Chapter Fourteen: Trial by Fire

The warehouse was too quiet.

Not because there weren't people moving around—there were. But the silence was different. It was thick. Suffocating.

No one wanted to be the one to say it.

Zeke was gone.

And if he wasn't dead, that meant something worse.

Collin was the first to crack.

His knife clattered onto the crate beside him as he ran a hand through his messy red hair, his bright blue eyes stormy. "We're just gonna sit here? Just act like nothing happened?"

Lottie, curled up on the old tattered couch, exhaled sharply. "What do you want us to do, Collin? March into the DNHA and demand they give him back?"

Collin's jaw clenched. "Maybe. We don't even know if they have him."

"They have him," Talulah said quietly.

Everyone stilled.

Collin turned to face her, his expression tense. "You don't know that."

Talulah's strange, glowing pale eyes never wavered. "I know he isn't dead."

A banshee's certainty.

If Zeke had died, Talulah would have felt it.

But that only left one possibility.

Ballad sighed, rubbing her temples. "We all know what happens when they take people and don't send them back."

Landon had been sitting against the wall, arms crossed, listening. "You're all assuming he was taken. What if he ran?"

Collin gave him a flat, disbelieving look. "You really think Zeke would just abandon us?"

Landon didn't respond.

Because he knew the truth.

Zeke had been captured.

And if the DNHA had him, it was already too late.

⸻

The conversation shifted after that.

They all knew there was nothing they could do for Zeke.

Not yet.

But there was one thing they could do.

"Tara needs to train," Ballad said, leaning against a crate, arms crossed.

Tara blinked. "I—what?"

Ballad's expression was unreadable. "You've been running on borrowed time. If the DNHA catches up to you, you won't last a second."

Tara bristled. "I can fight."

Lottie raised an eyebrow. "You can fight like a human. You can't fight like—whatever you are."

Tara stiffened.

Landon was the only one who hesitated. "She doesn't need to train with him."

Everyone caught that.

Collin snorted. "And there it is."

Landon's eyes darkened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Collin leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "We've all been letting it slide, but let's be honest here—you two are shady as hell."

Tara's stomach twisted.

Lottie smirked. "You think we didn't notice? You're both twitchy as hell whenever you're in the same room. Like two guilty criminals trying not to make eye contact with the cops."

Ballad tilted her head. "So? You gonna tell us what's going on?"

Tara felt the heat of everyone's attention. She opened her mouth—

Landon cut in first. "There's nothing going on."

Silence.

Collin exhaled sharply, looking unimpressed. "That's the best you've got?"

Lottie sighed. "Look. We don't care about your past or your issues. But if your baggage gets us killed, then yeah, we care a little."

Ballad nodded. "We need to trust each other." She looked Tara dead in the eye. "Can we trust you?"

Tara swallowed hard. "I don't—I don't know what you want me to say."

Ballad studied her for a long moment.

Then, finally, she exhaled. "Fine. Keep your secrets."

Landon relaxed slightly.

"But Tara's training," Ballad continued.

Landon stiffened again.

Collin smirked. "What's wrong? Afraid she'll like Skye better?"

Landon shot him a look that could kill.

Ballad ignored them both. She turned to Skye, still silent in the shadows. "You up for it?"

Tara felt Skye's gaze on her.

Assessing. Calculating.

Then—he gave a small, sharp smile. "Sure."

Landon stood up so fast his chair scraped against the floor. "No."

Ballad raised an eyebrow. "Yes."

Landon shook his head. "Not with him."

Ballad crossed her arms. "Landon, she needs this."

Landon's jaw clenched.

Tara watched the argument unfold, her pulse hammering.

Landon didn't trust Skye.

But Ballad was right.

If she didn't do this, she wouldn't survive.

Landon ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Tara, his green eyes stormy with frustration and worry.

Then—finally, reluctantly—he exhaled.

"I'm watching," he muttered.

Ballad grinned. "You do that."

Skye just tilted his head slightly, watching Tara like he already knew exactly what he was going to do to her.

Tara swallowed hard.

This was happening.

⸻

Training started that night.

Tara stood on the warehouse rooftop, the wind whipping through her hair.

Skye stood a few feet away, his arms crossed. Landon sat on the ledge nearby, watching.

Tara took a slow breath.

She knew how to fight.

Her father had trained her in combat, discipline, survival. She knew how to hold a knife, how to break an enemy with her bare hands.

Her mother had taught her healing. Restoration. Balance.

But magic?

That had never been hers to wield.

Skye tilted his head slightly, watching her. "What do you think your power is?"

Tara frowned. "I—" She hesitated. "I don't know."

Skye stepped closer. "You've never used it?"

Tara clenched her jaw. "Not on purpose."

Skye studied her. "It doesn't just come from nowhere. It's in you. Buried. Locked. Someone put a block on it. Someone sealed you."

Tara's breath caught. "Sealed me?"

Skye nodded. "It happens sometimes. To powerful beings who need to be controlled."

Landon tensed.

Tara shivered. "Controlled?"

Skye's gaze darkened.

Then, quietly, he said:

"You weren't born, Tara. You were made."

The words hit like a blade to the gut.

Tara froze.

She stared at Skye, waiting for him to take it back.

But he didn't.

Landon exhaled sharply. "Skye—"

Skye ignored him. He took a slow step forward, his black-glimmering eyes focused on her. "I wasn't sure at first." His voice was almost gentle. "But you're not just like me."

He tilted his head.

"You're more."

Tara felt like the world had tilted beneath her feet.

Landon looked away, his jaw tight.

He knew.

He had always known.

Tara's hands shook.

The memories stirred.

Her mother's voice.

Her father's careful silence.

The lullaby.

The protection.

Tara swallowed hard.

She wasn't supposed to exist.

And yet—she did.

And now, she had to figure out why.