Caught between two men-Zayne, a brilliant doctor tethered to her present, and Sylus, an enigmatic figure claiming ties to her across universes-a young woman is drawn into a love triangle where loyalty, trust, and desire blur under the weight of a co...
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The high-tech room was bathed in a cold, artificial glow, its sleek surfaces polished to a mirror sheen. The dark metallic walls pulsed faintly with streams of shifting energy, the rhythm slow and deliberate, like the heartbeat of something ancient. At the center of the room, encased in a cylinder of reinforced glass, a rare Protocore hovered in suspension, its energy swirling in hypnotic patterns. It pulsed with a quiet menace, casting eerie shadows along the floor.
Caleb stood before it, rolling an apple between his fingers, the fruit catching the sterile light with every lazy turn of his wrist. His gaze never left the Protocore. The weight of his thoughts bore down on him, but his voice, when he spoke, was low and filled with something far more dangerous than rage.
"Soon, I'll make you pay."
His fingers tightened around the apple. His grip was firm but controlled, a predator savoring the moment before the kill. He raised the fruit to his lips, his purple eyes glinting with something unreadable, his voice softer now, more intimate, as if he were whispering to the Protocore itself.
"I'll make you pay."
His teeth sank into the apple's crisp flesh, the sound sharp in the otherwise silent room. He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, as if relishing the taste of both the fruit and the vengeance he had been planning for far too long.
A presence stirred behind him.
The faint click of heels on the polished floor echoed, deliberate, unhurried. Caleb did not turn, but he felt her before he saw her.
Lena.
She stepped into view, her olive-toned skin gleaming under the cold light, her short blonde hair framing her sharp, striking features. Everything about her was precision—her posture, the bored flicker of her icy eyes, the way she crossed her arms in front of her chest with a smirk that barely touched her lips.
"You're talking to yourself again, darling."
Her voice was silk laced with steel, smooth yet cutting. Caleb didn't acknowledge her immediately. Instead, he took another bite of the apple, his jaw tightening slightly before he finally turned.
"This is your fault."
The words were sharp, edged with accusation, and Lina didn't flinch. She only raised a brow, a slow, deliberate motion, and let out a soft chuckle.
"My fault?" She tilted her head. "You say that like you had things under control."
Caleb tossed the half-eaten apple onto a sleek black table and took a step toward her, his presence a storm of barely restrained fury.
"I did. You should have never taken her when you did. I had a plan. I was going to lure her in through him. You ruined everything."
Lina let out a slow exhale, a mockery of patience, as if indulging a child throwing a tantrum.
