Elena paced the balcony of Wolfe Tower, arms folded, heart drumming faster than a war march. The city looked like a thousand flickering secrets beneath her but none as dangerous as the ones inside the building.
Behind her, Alexander was speaking on a secure line, voice low and sharp.
"I want Elias off the grid. Burn every trace. He's no longer safe under public radar."
When he hung up, she turned to him. "You don't get to make decisions about him without me."
His jaw tightened. "This isn't about you, Elena. Or me. It's about Elias staying alive."
"I've kept him alive for five years!" Her voice rose. "While you rebuilt your empire, I buried my name, changed my face, ran through countries with a child who couldn't sleep without crying. I did that. Alone."
Alexander's eyes darkened with guilt but he didn't look away.
"I didn't know," he said softly.
"No, you didn't want to know."
They stood there, thunder rumbling far in the distance.
"I wasn't just running from Desmond," she finally said. "I was running from you too."
His eyes flicked up.
"Why?"
Elena hesitated but then she said it.
"Because I was afraid you'd choose power over us again."
That struck something in him deep and unspoken.
He stepped closer. "I would have done things differently if I'd known about Elias."
"But you didn't," she replied. "Because you didn't look."
Silence stretched between them, the kind only old lovers could know. It pulsed with regret, pain, and something dangerously close to longing.
Before anything else could be said, Kira's voice crackled through the intercom.
"Emergency alert. We have movement on Level Nine. Unauthorized access in the server room."
Alexander was already moving. "Seal off the elevators. Get a team down there."
Elena was right behind him.
The server room was already a war zone when they arrived.
Two guards were down alive, but unconscious. Sparks flickered from one of the panels. A trail of smeared blood led toward the access hallway.
A figure in black darted through the shadows.
Elena didn't hesitate. She was faster than anyone in the room, instincts blazing. Her boots hit the tile with perfect rhythm as she gave chase.
She turned a corner and tackled the intruder hard.
They crashed into the wall, a knife skittering across the floor.
The hood came off.
Elena froze.
"Damon?"
He looked up at her, blood dripping from a cut above his eyebrow.
"Elena wait it's not what it looks like!"
She shoved him harder against the wall. "You're bleeding from my security room and you want me to wait?"
"I came to protect Elias!" he spat. "But something's wrong. They've got trackers on all of us. There's a mole inside your team!"
Elena's grip loosened just slightly.
"Who?"
"I don't know. But they wiped the logs. I was trying to find proof."
Alexander arrived then, his men aiming weapons.
"Stand down," Elena ordered, stepping in front of Damon.
Alexander raised a brow but lowered his hand. "You trust him?"
"I don't," she admitted. "But he's not lying."
Damon looked between them. "You two are still toxic."
Alexander smirked grimly. "Tell me something I don't know."
Back in the penthouse, Elias sat quietly, sketching something on a notepad. The sitter watching him was dozing off in the corner. His hand moved slowly, thoughtfully, drawing lines he didn't understand.
The image came together a door, surrounded by symbols.
His fingers tingled when he finished.
Suddenly, the lights flickered again. The window creaked open slightly, though the latch was still locked.
Elias turned toward the noise.
Outside the window, across the street, a shadow stood on the adjacent rooftop.
A woman. Blonde hair. A familiar silhouette.
Sabrina.
She raised a finger to her lips Shhhhhh and then disappeared.
Elias stood up, confused, his heart thudding with something strange.
That night, after stabilizing the situation, Elena stood by Elias's bed, watching him breathe.
She brushed a curl from his forehead, lips trembling.
"Why is this happening to you?" she whispered. "What are you becoming?"
Behind her, Alexander entered quietly. He watched her in silence for a moment before saying, "We both know this is just the beginning."
She turned to him.
"I won't let Desmond take him."
He nodded. "Neither will I."
A pause.
"Elena," he added, "I've never asked you this, but... back then, when you left did you ever stop loving me?"
Her breath caught. It was a cruel question. But she answered anyway.
"No," she said. "But love wasn't enough. You were too addicted to the crown."
He stepped closer.
"And now?"
She didn't answer but she didn't move away either.
His hand brushed her arm. Slowly, deliberately.
"You're still the only woman who ever made me lose control," he whispered.
Her eyes flared. The memory of their past ignited like a fuse.
And when he kissed her, it wasn't gentle. It was war.
Years of buried passion surged up. Clothes hit the floor with abandon. He lifted her onto the desk by instinct, her legs wrapping around him like they belonged there. Every movement was laced with desperation, redemption.
Their bodies moved with practiced heat, a violent dance of regret and lust and love all twisted into one unstoppable force.
When they finally collapsed together, breathing hard, tangled in silence, she whispered:
"This doesn't change anything."
He smiled faintly, brushing her hair back.
"Then let's pretend it does just for tonight."
Miles away, Desmond stood in a dark chamber, surrounded by robed figures.
A blood circle glowed faintly in front of him.
"The child has awakened," one of them hissed.
Desmond's eyes gleamed. "Then we begin Phase Two."
"And the mother?"
He grinned coldly.
"She'll come to me sooner than she thinks."