Celeste's POV
Five seconds, Victoria says, her hand tightening on the device at Luna's neck.
I can't think. Can't breathe. Luna's eyes are terrified, trapped in her own body.
Let her go, Mother, Damian says, his voice deadly calm. This is between us.
Everything is between us, darling boy. You threw away your birth right for this witch. You destroyed our family's reputation. Victoria's smile is poison. I simply can't allow that.
Three seconds until lockdown.
I make a choice.
My magic shoots out not at Victoria, but at Luna. I dive into her mind, finding the magical control device's hold and shattering it.
Luna gasps, control released, and drops to the floor.
Run! I scream at her.
Two seconds.
Victoria's face twists with rage. She raises her hand to attack, but Silas is already moving. He tackles her, and they crash into the wall.
Go! Silas shouts. I've got her!
One second.
Damian grabs my hand. We dive through the portal with Luna stumbling after us.
The world twists. Colors blur. My stomach lurches.
Then we're outside, gasping in the cold night air three blocks from Council headquarters.
Behind us, the building's wards slam shut with a sound like thunder. The entire skyscraper glows red. Locked down. Impenetrable.
Silas, I gasp, turning back. We left him
He knew the risks. Damian's voice is tight. He bought us time to escape.
We can't just leave him with your mother!
We don't have a choice. Damian pulls out his phone. The screen shows news alerts flooding in supernatural media exploding with the evidence we released. Silas knew what he was doing. And he'd want us to finish this.
Luna collapses against a wall, shaking. That was Damian's mom? Your actual mother tried to kill us?
Victoria Cross. Damian's jaw clenches. She and Aurora have been working together since my father died. They run half the Council between them.
Why didn't you tell me your mother was involved? I demand.
Because I didn't know! His voice cracks. I knew she hated you hated us but I thought she just supported the Council. I didn't realize she was one of the architects of your erasure.
The betrayal in his eyes guts me. His own mother.
I'm sorry, I whisper.
Don't be. She stopped being my mother the day she helped them take you from me. He looks at the Council building, now crawling with enforcers. We need to move. Victoria will send people after us the second she gets out of lockdown.
We run to where we parked a backup car. The drive back to Luna's apartment the only safe house Victoria doesn't know about takes twenty minutes of pure terror. Every siren makes us flinch. Every shadow could be an enforcer.
Finally, we stumble into Luna's tiny apartment and lock every door.
Luna immediately pulls out her laptop. Let me check the damage. See how far the evidence spread.
She types frantically while Damian and I collapse on her couch.
We did it, I say quietly. We actually exposed them.
We exposed Aurora and the child experiments. Damian's voice is hollow. But Victoria is still out there. And she's more dangerous than Aurora ever was.
Why?
Because Aurora had a conscience, buried deep. She could be broken by guilt. He looks at me with haunted eyes. Victoria has no conscience. She cares about power and legacy. Nothing else. Not even her own son.
I take his hand. I'm sorry she's like that.
Me too.
Luna suddenly gasps. Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
We rush to her side. The laptop screen shows news feeds, but they're not celebrating our evidence release.
They're calling us terrorists.
'Rogue Witch Attacks Council Headquarters,' Luna reads. 'Dangerous Criminal Celeste Thorne Sought for Treason.'
My stomach drops. What? No. We released proof of their crimes!
Victoria's already controlling the narrative, Damian says grimly. Look she's claiming the evidence is fake. Doctored by us to frame the Council.
But it's real! Those children died!
We know that. But Victoria has connections everywhere. Media, law enforcement, other Council members. He points at another headline. 'Council Spokesperson Victoria Cross Denies All Allegations, Calls for Immediate Arrest of Terrorist Cell.'
They're making us the villains, I whisper.
Luna scrolls frantically. Not everyone believes it. Look some independent investigators are calling for a real inquiry. Some victims' families are coming forward. But Victoria's side is louder. They have more power.
So what do we do? I ask. We can't just hide forever.
Damian's phone buzzes. He answers, face going pale.
Silas?
Not quite. Victoria's voice purrs through the speaker, cold and triumphant. Your little friend is currently my guest. He's alive. For now.
Let him go, Damian snarls.
I will. After you surrender. You, Celeste, and that pink-haired assistant. Turn yourselves in, and I'll release him unharmed.
You're lying.
Am I? Would you like to hear him scream to prove he's alive? There's a pause, then Silas's voice, tight with pain: Don't do it! Don't trust her!
A muffled sound, like someone being hit. Then silence.
Twenty-four hours, Victoria says. Turn yourselves in, or I start sending you pieces of him. Your choice, son.
The line goes dead.
Luna looks like she might throw up. She's going to kill him.
She's going to kill him either way, I say. If we surrender, we all die. If we don't, Silas dies.
Damian slams his fist into the wall. There has to be another option. There has to be!
There is, a voice says from the doorway.
We spin around. A woman stands there middle-aged, sharp-eyed, wearing a Council badge.
I blast her with magic before I can think.
She deflects it easily. Please. I'm not here to fight.
Who the hell are you? Damian demands, moving between her and me.
Dr. Helena Moss. I work at the Council medical research division. She raises her hands, showing she's unarmed. I've been investigating the child experiments secretly for two years. I have proof real proof that Victoria can't discredit. Medical records she doesn't know I copied.
Why should we trust you? I ask.
Because thirty minutes ago, Victoria ordered my execution. Helena's voice is steady. I barely escaped. And I realized if she's willing to kill her own researchers to hide the truth, then you were right. The Council needs to burn.
She pulls out a data drive. This has everything. Not just the experiments Victoria's personal involvement. Financial records showing she profited from them. Communications proving she knew children were dying and covered it up.
Hope sparks in my chest. That could work. That could actually prove
There's a problem, Helena interrupts. To verify this evidence, to make it legally binding, we need to present it to the International Supernatural Court. In person. With witnesses.
Where's that court? Luna asks.
Geneva. Switzerland. Helena's face is grim. And Victoria controls every magical airport, every portal, every way in or out of the country. The second we try to leave, she'll know. She'll have us killed before we make it fifty miles.
Silence.
So we're trapped, I say. We have proof, but no way to use it.
Damian's phone buzzes again. A text message from an unknown number.
All it says is: I can get you out. But you have to trust me. M
Who's M? Luna asks.
Damian's face goes white. Marcus. The enforcer from the Council building.
The one who helped us before? I remember him holding off the other enforcers.
Another text: Victoria thinks I'm loyal. I'm not. I have access to a private portal. I can get you to Geneva. But we leave tonight. This is your only chance.
It's a trap, Luna says immediately.
Maybe. Damian looks at me. But it might also be our only shot at stopping Victoria.
I think about Silas, captured and tortured. About those dead children. About three years of stolen memories.
We take it, I say. We trust Marcus and we go to Geneva.
And if it is a trap? Luna asks.
I look at Damian, at Luna, at Helena standing in the doorway with evidence that could change everything.
Then we fight our way out. Like we always do.
Damian texts back: Where and when?
The response is immediate: Abandoned warehouse. Pier 17. Midnight. Come alone or the deal's off.
I check the time. 11:30 PM.
We have thirty minutes to decide if we're walking into salvation or a death trap.
And no way to know which until it's too late.