Chapter 29 · Ghost in the Safehouse

“You’re a hard man to kill, Silas. Even with dirt in your lungs.”

The voice didn’t just hit the air—it scraped. Rusted blade against stone.

Silas froze. Every muscle locked. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped animal trying to break through bone. He knew that voice. Ten years of nightmares, and here it was.

Viviane’s sword was out in a blur. Steel hummed as she stepped in front of him, her back a shield. She didn't know the voice, but she felt the temperature drop. The room had turned into a freezer.

“Who the hell are you?” she snapped. The blade leveled at the shadow in the corner. “Step into the light or I’ll carve you into pieces.”

“Always so aggressive, the Inquisitors.” A chuckle. Low. Wet.

The figure stepped forward. Candlelight hit a face that should’ve been a skull. Pale, sunken eyes. A jagged scar ripping from jaw to temple.

Kaelen.

Silas had watched this man burn in the Great Purge. He’d felt the heat.

“And look at you, Silas,” Kaelen grinned. It was a wrong kind of smile. “Hiding behind a pretty little Holy See lapdog.