The next morning, Seraphina woke up feeling something she hadn't felt in a long time—calm. The scent of home, the soft hum of morning chatter in the house—it was a rare moment of peace.
She made her way to the dining table, where her family was already seated. "Look who finally decided to wake up," her brother teased, smirking as he took a bite of his toast. Seraphina rolled her eyes, grabbing a cup of coffee. "Unlike you, I actually needed sleep.""You mean beauty sleep?" he shot back. "Because I don't think it worked."
She narrowed her eyes, throwing a napkin at him. "Shut up." Their parents watched the exchange, amused. It was normal. It was home. For a moment, Seraphina allowed herself to enjoy it. But only for a moment. Because she had somewhere to be.
Once breakfast was done, she went to her room, pulling out a scarf and sunglasses. She needed to cover her face. Blend in. Stay unnoticed. Slipping out of the house without questions, she hailed a cab and gave the driver a destination.
The prison. Where Victor Alaric and Adrian Alaric were waiting. The brothers. The ones whose case had been too clean, too perfectly handled. The ones who might hold the answers she was looking for.
As the prison gates came into view, a chill ran down her spine. Because for the first time in a long time, she wasn't just looking at a case.She was walking straight into it.
As Seraphina stepped into the cold, sterile meeting area of the prison, she felt the weight of unspoken truths lingering in the air. Across the table, Victor Alaric sat, his sharp eyes already locked onto her as if he had been expecting this moment. The smirk on his lips wasn't one of amusement, but of knowing.
"I knew you would come," he murmured, leaning forward slightly. Seraphina didn't react, didn't let him see how those words unsettled her. Instead, she slowly sat down, crossing one leg over the other, her expression unreadable.
Victor Alaric leaned forward, his voice lower now, serious. He knew why she was here. There was only one reason. The Manipulator. Because of him he was here.
"Before he died, he gave me something." Seraphina stayed still, waiting. Victor reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, slightly crumpled piece of paper. He slid it across the table. He has carefully hide the piece of paper with him till now.
Seraphina picked it up, her eyes scanning the words. The moment she read them, her pulse spiked. Her grip on the paper tightened. It was a location. But not just any location.
The abandoned research lab. The same one where she had found the missing researchers—working like lifeless machines. A chill ran down her spine. This wasn't a coincidence. This meant the man Victor killed was directly connected to the experiments.
To the researchers. To the manipulator. Her mind raced. Why did the victim have this place written down? Was he supposed to go there? Was he trying to escape?
Or worse—was he supposed to lead someone else there? Seraphina's jaw clenched. This wasn't just a hint. This was a direct trail to the manipulator's operations.
She lifted her gaze, locking eyes with Victor. "Did he say anything else?" Victor smirked, but this time, it was laced with something darker."Just one thing."
Seraphina waited. Victor exhaled, then said:
"'The more you dig… deeper the truth will get.'" Seraphina's heart pounded. Deeper. The abandoned lab. The manipulated researchers. And now? She had the first real thread to pull. And she knew exactly where it would lead.
Ezrin sat in his office, his patience razor-thin, his mind dangerously quiet. Seraphina was gone. No word. No trace. He had given her the illusion of choice, of freedom—and she took it. But Ezrin knew better. She wasn't just disappearing. She was running from him. And that? He wouldn't tolerate. But she was trying to find the truth and he knew better.
A sharp knock broke the silence."Come in." Kieran stepped inside, his usual indifference masking something heavier."We found her." Ezrin finally looked up. His fingers, which had been tapping against the desk, stilled. "Where?" Kieran exhaled. "Norway."
Ezrin's jaw tightened slightly, but his expression remained unreadable. "Norway." He repeated the word slowly, rolling it over like a puzzle piece that didn't fit. "Seraphina had no reason to go there. Unless…" His mind raced.
His grip on the desk tightened. Kieran continued. "She flew out last night. One-way ticket. No return flight booked." Ezrin's patience snapped. One-way? She wasn't just leaving. She wasn't planning to come back. A slow exhale.
Then—a smirk. Cold. Calculated."Get the jet ready." Kieran raised a brow. "You sure? We don't even know where exactly she is." Ezrin's eyes darkened. "We will."
"Because Seraphina could try to disappear. But she wouldn't get far." He thought.
As Ezrin stepped onto Norwegian soil, the cold air did nothing to cool the fire burning inside him.
Only one thought consumed him. Where is Seraphina? She had been careful, calculated. No digital trail, no clear destination. But she had made one mistake. She thought distance could keep him away.
Ezrin's jaw clenched as he slipped into the black car waiting for him. Kieran slid into the seat beside him, phone in hand. "Still no exact location." Ezrin exhaled slowly, gaze locked on the road ahead. "Then find one." Because this wasn't about tracking her down. It was about reminding her that she was never out of his reach.
As Seraphina stepped out of the cold, grey walls of the prison, the sharp wind brushed against her coat, but her mind was louder than the weather. Victor's cryptic note echoed in her thoughts—the abandoned lab, the researchers… the past she had buried but never truly forgotten.
She reached into her coat pocket, pulled out her phone, and dialed the number that hadn't been used in years.
"Aaron," she said the moment he picked up, breathless. "I need to talk. Meet me at Rosehavn Café, the old one near the clock tower. It's important."
The cab ride was silent except for the low hum of traffic. She gripped the note tighter in her hand. Aaron, one of her oldest friends. And if there was anyone who could confirm what she feared… it was him.
The café was warm, lit with soft amber lights and the rich scent of roasted coffee. Seraphina sat by the window, wrapped in a scarf, sipping black coffee when the door swung open with dramatic flair.
Aaron strolled in like he owned the place—mismatched jacket, wild curls, and that signature grin that never seemed to fade.
He spotted her and dramatically raised his arms. "You called me after what? A century? Didn't even say hello, or hey Aaron, how's life treating your chaotic soul, just meet me. Do I look like your personal emergency hotline?"
Seraphina burst out laughing, her first real laugh in days. "I missed this. You haven't changed," she said, smiling as he slid into the seat across from her. "Missed me? That's sweet. I'm unforgettable. But seriously, you okay? You look like someone ran you over with... responsibility."
She rolled her eyes. "Let's just say I'm on a tightrope walk with chaos on one side and death on the other."
"Ah, so same old Seraphina then." He winked. "Alright, spill. Or wait coffee first, and then we gossip about the past like old ladies."
They laughed again, and for a moment, time slowed.
Then, after catching up on old memories, dorm pranks, failed baking attempts, and Aaron's very questionable sense of fashion, Seraphina leaned in, serious now
After a few minutes of teasing and catching up—rants about his neighbors, a joke about how she still sat like she was in a board meeting—Seraphina leaned in.
"I need to ask you something… about an abandoned lab in Iceland." Aaron blinked, straightened a bit. "An abandoned lab? That's oddly specific. What's the name?" She quietly told him.
He tilted his head. "Huh. I've heard of the place—locals whisper about it, but I don't know thedark truths behind it." Her gaze sharpened.
"But hey," he continued, flashing a grin, "if you're looking for dirt, you came to the right guy. I might not know the truths now, but I will. Easily. Just give me some hours and maybe a cinnamon roll." She chuckled. "Still bribing you with sugar?"
"I'm a simple man with dramatic taste." And just like that, they were back in sync—bantering, joking, but now with something darker bubbling beneath the surface.
Little did she know that the moment she turned on her phone, she was already in trouble.
The second the device came alive, it triggered a silent ping Ezrin had been waiting for. In a nearby hotel room in Oslo, Kieran's secure device vibrated quietly. He looked at the screen, then at Ezrin, who was standing by the window, hands clenched behind his back.
"She just turned on her phone. Café Rosehavn, ten minutes from here," Kieran said.
Ezrin turned slowly, his eyes dark and unreadable.
"She's close," he murmured, grabbing his coat. "I'm going there. Now."
Ezrin sat in the sleek black car, his jaw clenched and eyes fixed on the GPS screen. He had told Kieran to stay behind—this was something he needed to see for himself.
The car came to a halt near the cozy café nestled in a quiet corner of the street. Without waiting for the driver, Ezrin stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his coat as his eyes scanned through the large glass windows.
And then he saw her. Seraphina.
She was sitting at a table near the window, sunlight brushing over her soft features. Her head tilted back slightly as she laughed—carefree, beautiful, unaware. And beside her was a man. Casual, relaxed, leaning in as if he belonged there.
Something inside Ezrin snapped.
His eyes darkened, the storm in his chest roaring louder than reason. Her laughter—the one she rarely showed—wasn't his to see at that moment. It belonged to someone else. And the thought of it… made his blood boil.
Possessiveness surged through him like a wave. She was his. Whether she realized it or not. And no one else should ever be that close.
Ezrin didn't move, didn't flinch. He stood there like a shadow, eyes locked on Seraphina through the glass as if the world outside ceased to exist. His hands were buried deep in his coat pockets, fists clenched so tightly the leather of his gloves creaked.
He watched the way she tilted her head, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke to him. That boy. That stranger who didn't deserve her time.
But Ezrin didn't act. Not yet.
He waited until she stood, politely waved goodbye to Aaron, and stepped outside. She didn't look around, didn't sense the sharp gaze following her every move. She simply got into a cab, tugging her coat closer to her as the evening breeze hit.
Ezrin's car slid onto the road the moment hers disappeared around the corner. She had no idea. That from this moment on, she was being followed.
And this time, he wasn't letting her out of his sight.
Back home, everything felt... normal. Seraphina had a light-hearted chat with her family in the lounge, talking about small things—childhood memories, random local gossip, her brother's silly complaints about chores.
Dinner was warm and simple, her mother fussing over her like she always did, piling more food on her plate despite Seraphina's protests.
Afterward, her brother dragged her to the couch, insisting they watch an old movie they used to love as kids. They argued over which one to pick, like old times, and ended up watching both.
For a while, she laughed. For a while, she forgot. But outside, parked silently across the street under the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, Ezrin's car stayed.
He hadn't moved. He waited. And the night passed quietly, under a sky that knew too much.
The next morning, the soft warmth of the sun stirred Seraphina awake. She stretched slowly, letting herself savor the rare peace she'd found in this little escape.
After a long, hot shower that washed off more than just sleep—stress, tension, and the weight of everything she'd been carrying—she wrapped herself in a towel and padded back to her room.
She moved to the window, sliding the curtains open to let the sunlight in. The golden rays kissed her skin, and her damp hair clung to her back in dark waves.
But what she didn't know… Ezrin hadn't moved from his car all night. Eyes sharp, jaw tight, coffee cold in his hand—he watched.
And when those curtains parted and he saw her—fresh out of the shower, a soft glow on her skin, hair still dripping—his grip on the steering wheel tightened dangerously.
She was right there, looking so unapologetically herself, so unaware of his presence. And he wasn't sure whether to walk away… or walk in. Just as Seraphina was pulling a hoodie over her head, her phone buzzed on the bedside table.
"Got the info you wanted. Meet me—same place."
Her eyes widened, heart skipping. She didn't even wait to read the whole message. She tossed the phone on the bed, grabbed the first pair of jeans she saw, and got dressed in a rush—her hair still wet, water dripping down her collar. She didn't even glance at the mirror.
Ezrin watched it all. From the same spot. Same car. Same seat.
Through that half-open curtain, he saw her phone light up. Then the way she scrambled, moving fast, dressing carelessly, tugging her hoodie on, and bolting out the door without even bothering to dry her hair.
She skipped breakfast. Didn't even say goodbye to anyone.
His jaw locked as he saw her coming out of the main door. She was going somewhere. Urgently. To someone.
And again, she didn't tell him. As she got in the cab, Ezrin finally started the engine. He wasn't going to sit back anymore.
Seraphina stepped into the café, her hoodie still clinging to her damp hair. She spotted Aaron instantly—sprawled out on the corner seat, one leg up, munching on a muffin like he owned the place.
"Well, well," he smirked, waving the manila file in his hand. "Look who decided to show up without even drying her hair. You running from someone or running to the truth?"
Seraphina rolled her eyes but grinned, sliding into the seat across from him. "Just give me the file, Aaron."
He handed it over, tone light but eyes sharp. "Everything I could dig up on that abandoned lab. You'll want to read that carefully. Some of it is messed up."
She opened the file, her smile fading as her fingers grazed the documents—diagrams, floor plans, personnel lists, a few reports… and a series of redacted records that screamed secrets.
Aaron leaned closer. "You're in deeper than you told me, aren't you?"
She didn't answer, just stared at the file like it might start whispering answers. Outside, Ezrin's car pulled up. He saw her. With Aaron. Again.
His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. But this time, he wasn't just going to watch.
Seraphina sat silently in the corner booth of the café, her fingers gripping the edge of the file. Her eyes scanned line after line, each word pulling her deeper into a pit of dread and disbelief.
Her breath hitched at "Adaptive Thinkers." Her fingers trembled as she flipped to the next page. The robotic researchers… the ones she had seen in the abandoned lab—suddenly, everything aligned. They weren't just victims. They were reprogrammed. Conditioned to obey.
Her jaw clenched. Then she saw the list—Elias's name, circled. Bold, red. Her heartbeat quickened. They have him. They had him all along.
She turned to the final page. The photo of the lab stared back at her like a ghost. Familiar. Silent.
Then she saw the phrase
"The mind is a weapon. The lab forged its blade."
A chill ran down her spine. Her mind spiraled with thoughts.
Who is A.S.? Was Victor trying to stop the data from spreading? Was that man the missing researcher?
But what unsettled her the most—what made her exhale sharply and sit back—was this:
She was never meant to find this.
She was getting too close.
And someone—something—was watching.
As she read it, Aaron spoke, "These three lines were written on a page there. I've picture of it." He turn the phone screen to her as she saw the picture of it from his phone.
She exhaled. "Aaron, thank you," she said softly, offering a faint smile before walking away. He didn't stop her—he knew that look in her eyes. A storm was coming.
As Seraphina stepped out of the café, the cool air brushed against her skin. She pulled her coat tighter, holding the file close to her chest like a secret too heavy to share.
Outside, she paused on the sidewalk and looked up at the sky. A deep breath in—calm down. She needed to clear her thoughts before they consumed her.
Sliding into the backseat of the cab, she pulled out her phone. No missed calls. No messages. Still silence from Ezrin.
Her fingers moved quickly. Flight tickets. Departure, tomorrow morning. Back to Iceland.
She stared at the confirmation screen for a second too long.
This is it. No turning back. She had the puzzle piece she needed… now it was time to go where it all began again.
She was not going home. Not right now.
The cab moved through the quiet streets of Norway, her home fading into the background as her thoughts tangled with strategy and fear.
Cab stopped in front of a park. She stayed there till evening. She needed to clear her thoughts and this was the perfect way.
She didn't know Ezrin was still watching.
And she didn't know… he wouldn't let her go that easily.
As Seraphina entered the house, warmth enveloped her—both from the gentle heat inside and the familiar scent of home-cooked food. Her mother glanced up from the kitchen with a soft smile.
"You're back," she said, stirring a pot. "Had what I needed," Seraphina replied, her voice light.
Her father looked up from the newspaper, her brother sprawled across the couch with his phone. "You're glowing," he teased. "Must be the weather or some secret you're not telling us."
She chuckled, ruffling her brother's hair on the way to the dinner table. "Just hungry."
Dinner was filled with laughter, small arguments about who got the last piece of bread, and her mother's stern warnings about staying out too late. It was… normal. The kind of normal she hadn't had in so long.
After dinner, Seraphina made her way to her room, her mind still buzzing with thoughts—about the lab, the file, and what she'd uncovered. She needed sleep, but first, a shower to wash off the weight of the day.
She stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying her hair, wearing silk shorts and a matching shirt. The fabric clung softly to her skin, her legs bare, her presence effortless and unguarded in the privacy of her childhood home.
But the moment her eyes lifted from the floor… she froze. Her breath caught in her throat.
Ezrin.
He was standing there, by the window, tall, dark, and unreadable. His eyes locked onto hers—stormy, intense, as if he had been watching her for longer than she wanted to believe.
For a full second, silence wrapped around them like glass. She clutched the towel a little tighter in her hand, the only movement between them.
"What are you doing here?" she finally asked, her voice low, startled… but not weak. Ezrin didn't answer right away. His eyes drifted over her—not lustful, but with a sharp possessiveness that said more than words ever could.
"You left," he said quietly. "Without a word." She felt her pulse quicken, but she kept her face calm. Her fingers tightened slightly around the towel in her hand.
"I had to," she replied, voice firm yet steady. "I needed space. Time to think."
Ezrin stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. "So, you ran."
"I didn't run," she said, matching his gaze. "I chose to breathe."
His jaw clenched. "And the boy you were laughing with yesterday, was that part of breathing too?" Seraphina blinked, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "You followed me?"
He tilted his head slightly, unapologetic. "You think I wouldn't? After everything?" She didn't back away. "You don't own me, Ezrin."
"No," he murmured, his voice dark. "But you know damn well you're mine." The words hung heavy in the air between them. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension crackled—emotions raw, unfiltered.
Then she whispered, "You can't control me." Ezrin stepped closer, now only inches from her. "No, but I can protect you—even from yourself." Seraphina looked up at him, her breath catching, not from fear… but from how right and wrong it all felt at the same time.
"You can't keep doing this," she said softly. "Showing up in my life like a storm and expecting me to stand still."
"And yet," he said, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a damp strand of hair behind her ear, "here I am. And here you are."
His grip was firm, unrelenting—there was no hesitation this time. Seraphina gasped softly, more in surprise than fear, as her back hit the wall. Ezrin's body pressed against hers, their closeness suffocating yet intoxicating. His eyes, usually cold and unreadable, now burned with something darker—anger, frustration… possession.
"You left," he growled, his voice low, breath grazing her cheek. "Without a word."
Her breath hitched, fingers instinctively reaching for his wrist that rested against her throat—not hurting her, but reminding her he was in control.
"I had to." she started, but he cut her off.
"You had to what? Escape me?" His voice cracked slightly, laced with something deeper than rage—betrayal.
His hand slid on her waist and tightened, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. She could feel the tension in him, like a coil ready to snap.
"You don't get to vanish, Seraphina," he said, staring into her eyes. "Not from me. Not when I'm the only one keeping you alive."
Her lips parted to speak, but the words were lost as he leaned in, so close their foreheads almost touched.
"You think I can let you go now?" he whispered. "After everything? No. You're mine—and if I have to remind you of that again and again, I will."
Her heart pounded, not from fear—but from the weight of everything unspoken between them.
Without giving her a chance to reply, Ezrin's eyes dropped to her lips. There was a flicker of something raw—need, desperation, fury laced with longing. And then, without warning, he leaned in and captured her mouth with his.
The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. It was demanding, claiming, as if he was trying to pour every ounce of his unspoken emotions into it. His other hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss, and the other gripped her waist possessively.
Seraphina stiffened at first, caught off guard, but his intensity—his hunger—wrapped around her like fire. Her fingers curled into his shirt, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.
Ezrin finally pulled back, just slightly, his breath ragged. His forehead rested against hers as he whispered, "You drive me insane." Seraphina blinked up at him, lips still tingling, her voice barely a breath. "Then why do you keep chasing me?"
His eyes locked on hers, dark and unwavering. "Because no matter where you run, you're already mine."