18. The Weight of Blood

Jace went completely still.

For a full five seconds, he didn't breathe.

Didn't blink.

Didn't move.

Then—low. Slow. Dangerous.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Kael didn't waver.

Didn't smirk. Didn't push.

He just let the words sit.

Because Jace had never known.

Jace didn't move.

He just stood there, staring at Kael, his ice-blue gaze sharp enough to gut a man where he stood.

"Say it again."

Not a question.

A demand.

Kael didn't flinch. Didn't waver.

He just exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back, silver eyes locked onto Jace's.

"You're related to Leah by blood."

Jace's jaw ticked.

Once.

Then—soft, lethal, absolute—

"That's impossible."

Kael didn't react. Didn't argue.

Because this wasn't a debate.

It was a fact.

And facts didn't care if Jace believed them.

"Your mother," Kael said evenly, "wasn't your only family."

Jace stilled.

Completely.

No movement. No reaction. Just a sharp, dangerous silence that filled the room like a blade waiting to drop.

Leah inhaled once, steady, deliberate.

"My father," she said quietly, "was your uncle."

Jace's head tilted slightly, gaze flicking to her.

Not disbelief.

Not rejection.

Just calculation.

His mind moving at full speed, trying to pick apart the impossible truth Kael had just dropped in his lap.

"No records," Jace murmured. "No connections. No shared name. Nothing."

Leah's lips curled—a sharp, humorless thing.

"Because they didn't want there to be."

Jace exhaled through his nose.

Once.

Then—smooth, lethal, absolute—

"Who else knows?"

Kael's gaze didn't flicker.

"Just us."

Jace studied him for a long moment.

Then—calm, deliberate, ice-cold—

"And why the fuck should I care?"

Leah didn't flinch.

She just took one step closer, voice steady, even.

"Because whether you believe it or not, Jace—" her gaze held his, "you are my family."

A beat of silence.

Then—

Kael tilted his head.

"And right now?" His voice was low, smooth. Deadly.

"That makes you worth saving."

Slowly—very slowly—Jace exhaled, tilting his head.

"That's a nice sentiment, Leah." His voice was calm, measured, but there was something dangerous underneath. "But you're gonna have to do better than words."

Leah didn't hesitate.

Didn't argue.

Didn't waste a second trying to convince him of something he'd already decided not to believe.

Instead, she reached into her jacket pocket.

And pulled out the photo.

A single, worn holo-print, edges softened by time.

She held it out.

Jace didn't take it.

Not immediately.

His gaze flicked down—and froze.

The photo was old, slightly faded, but clear.

Two men.

Their fathers.

Standing side by side.

The resemblance was undeniable. Same sharp features. Same dark hair. Same storm-forged expressions.

But that wasn't the part that made Jace go still.

It was the rest of the image.

A woman—Leah's mother—standing between them.

Holding a baby in her arms.

And at her side—

A boy.

Seven years old.

Bright blue eyes.

A scowl like he was daring the world to touch him.

A scowl Jace knew too well.

Because he'd worn it his whole damn life.

His breath came slow. Controlled.

But Leah saw it.

Saw the way his shoulders tensed, just barely.

Saw the way his fingers twitched at his sides.

Saw the way his jaw locked so tight it could break.

Jace finally spoke.

Low.

Quiet.

Lethal.

"Where did you get this?"

Leah didn't blink.

"My mother kept it."

Jace's gaze flicked up, locking onto hers.

Something dark in his eyes.

"And you're just showing me this now?"

Leah's fingers tightened around the photo.

"I never needed to before."

A long, stretched-out silence.

Jace exhaled, a sharp, irritated sound, dragging a hand through his hair.

"This is fucking insane."

Kael, still silent, still watching, finally spoke.

"Then let's make it worth it."

Jace's gaze snapped to him.

Kael just held it.

Unwavering.

"Come to Ark 0, Jace. Bring fifty of your best. See how 'insane' it really is."

Jace's jaw ticked once.

Twice.

Then—

He looked back at the photo.

And for the first time—

He didn't look away.

The Weight of Blood

Jace didn't speak.

Didn't move.

Just stared at the photo.

At the truth staring right back at him.

It wasn't just a picture.

It was his past—a past he hadn't known existed.

Jace exhaled, slow and controlled, but Leah saw the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled against his palm like he was holding something back.

Then, finally—

"Fucking hell."

Leah's lips twitched. "Took you long enough."

Jace shot her a glare, but it lacked its usual bite.

He looked down at the photo once more—then, without a word, slid it back across the table.

"Fine."

Kael and Leah both stilled. They had expected more of an resistance.

Jace exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose like this entire conversation had personally inconvenienced his soul.

"Fifty men. My best." He shot Kael a look. "But make no mistake, Voss—" his voice dropped, sharp as a knife "—I don't follow orders."

Kael didn't blink.

Didn't waver.

Just met Jace's sharp, ice-blue gaze and said—

"Then don't give me a reason to give them."

A long silence.

The weight of it thick, unspoken, absolute.

Jace exhaled sharply, jaw tight, like every second of this conversation was an inconvenience to his existence.

Then, without another word, he reached for the tablet on the table.

A flick of his wrist.

A scan of his fingerprint.

The system flickered to life, casting a pale blue glow over the room.

Kael watched as Jace navigated through the secured auction registry, his movements smooth, practiced, precise.

Then—

Application submitted.

Jace Solen, officially backing Kael Orion Voss.

His name locked into the system.

His alliance made permanent.

Jace leaned back, expression unreadable.

Then, flatly—

"I don't believe it."

Leah's lips curled, slow and knowing.

"You will."

Jace shot her a look, but she only smiled.

"You won't regret this."

Jace huffed a dry laugh, shaking his head.

"I already do."

But he signed anyway.

And that was what really mattered.