Chapter Five– The Rules of the Unseen

Aaden stood at the edge of the table, watching the grainy image of Aaralyn flicker on the screen. His jaw tightened. The red journal in her hands looked like a storm waiting to happen.

He had warned them — she doesn't know what she's holding.

But the Society never listens until it's too late.

"She's innocent," Aaden said again, voice flat but firm.

The tall woman across the table raised a brow. "No one born into Larkspur's legacy is innocent."

He hated her voice — always sharp, always sure. Lenora had been part of the inner circle for years, and she lived by one rule: control everything, feel nothing.

Aaden used to be like that too.

Used to.

"Did she open it?" he asked, nodding at the journal.

"Not yet. But she's close," said the man

beside her — Corwin, the keeper of records. He never blinked long and always spoke in riddles. "She's dreaming again, isn't she?"

Aaden didn't answer.

He didn't need to.

Everyone at that table knew Aaralyn had the bloodline. The mark. The connection.

And if she started remembering — it wouldn't just be a problem.

It would be war.

Beneath the table, Aaden's hand curled into a fist. This was why he'd left years ago. Why he vanished without saying goodbye to people who once trusted him.

The Society played god with Larkspur, and he'd sworn never to be their pawn again.

Yet here he was.

Back in the game.

Back because of her.

"She has a right to know the truth," Aaden said, softer now. Almost to himself.

Lenora leaned forward, her shadow stretching across the table. "If she knows the truth, she won't survive it. Neither will you."

A pause.

Then a soft knock at the door. Three taps. A pause. Two more.

Aaden's heart sank.

Only one person used that knock.

The Archivist.

The door creaked open, and an older man with silver-rimmed glasses stepped inside, holding a sealed envelope.

He placed it in front of Aaden. "For you."

No words. No explanation.

Just his name on the front, written in Aaralyn's handwriting.

Aaden's chest tightened.

"How?" he whispered.

"She sent it yesterday," the Archivist said.

"Before she even met you."

The room went still.

A chill swept through the air.

Aaden didn't open the envelope.

He just stared at it, heart thudding like war drums.

Because there was only one reason Aaralyn would have known his name before meeting him —

And it meant the past wasn't just haunting them…

It was already rewriting the present.