Chapter Twelve
The moment the banquet finally thinned, Isabella Reyes tuned toward Adrian Cole. Her expression, which had been cold steel in front of everyone else, softened just slighly.
“Come with me,” she said quietly.
Catherine Moretti frowned, but Adrian raised a hand, wordlessly asking her to wait. He followed Isabella down a side corridor, their footsteps echoing against polished marble until they reached a private office. The door shut with a heavy click, sealing the noise of the auction outside.
Catherine remained in the hallway, arms folded, her gaze sarp but patient.
Inside, the silence was suffocating. Adrian stood across from Isabella, studying her calm face. “Here we are?”
For once, Isabella did not posture. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached into her clutch and withdrew a small velvet case–the very same handed to him after the auction. She pushed it across the table toward him.
“You’ve been searching for this,” she said softly. “Even before your accident. And now… fate has brought it back to you.”
Adrian’s brows drew together. He opened the case. Inside, the twin of the ring he’d fought for gleamed faintly under the light. Its design was ancient, intricate, carrying an aura that seemed to hum in his bones.
“You knew about this?” His voice was low, dangerous.
Isabella nodded, lowering her head in respect. “It is your mother’s relic. She told me… before her death… that you must one day unite the pair of rings and awaken them with your blood. Only then would the truth be revealed.”
The words hit him like a blow. His chest tightened painfully, and for the first time in years, the mask of calm cracked. “My… mother?”
His voice broke.
Isabella’s lashes lowered. “She is gone, young master. I’m sorry. I don’t know how she died. I only know what she entrusted to me that nothing can be explained until you regain your memories fully. Until then, the rings are your only key.‘
—
Adrian staggered back a step, his breath ragged. He clenched his fists until his knuckles blanched, but the grief was unstoppable. “Gone…” He whispered the word like it was poison. His vision blurred, the weight of it suffocating him.
For a long moment, he said nothing. His body trembled as a storm of sorrow and rage churned inside. Then- without hesitation–he seized the ring.
“Enough waiting,” he muttered. “If this is the path she left me, I’ll walk it.”
He pressed the two rings together, then pulled a blade from his coat pocket. With one sharp motion, he cut across his fingertip. Blood welled instantly, dark crimson against ale skin.
The drops struck the rings.
The instant his blood touched the ancient metal, a surge like lightning exploded outward. The office filled with a violent hum, the lights flickering as if the very walls could ot contain the force.
Adrian’s body arched, his breath ripped from his chest as the relics drank in his blood. Power–endless, ancient, overwhelming–poured into him in torrents.
1/2
Power unleashed
+25 Bonus
Visions slammed into his mind. Countless figures in battle stances, masters of forgotten eras, their movements flowing like rivers. Blades flashing. Palms striking. Techniques beyond comprehension flooding into his consciousness one after another.
And not just martial arts. Knowledge, deep and arcane, poured into him–medicine that could cure the incurable, alchemy formulas that could transmute the impossible. Each truth seared itself into his soul, burning, reshaping, remaking.
Adrian staggered forward, gripping the table with white–knuckled hands as the weight of a thousand lifetimes threatened to crush him. His eyes blazed crimson for a heartbeat, then cooled to steel.
Isabella watched with tears brimming, awe etched into every line of her face. She whispered almost reverently, ‘ So it’s true… only you could awaken it. No one else.”
The torrent slowed. Adrian gasped, the last of the energy sinking into his bones. When he finally lifted his head, his gaze was sharper than a blade, deeper than night.
He straightened slowly, his grief carved into something harder. Resolve.
“My mother left this for me,” he said hoarsely. “Then I’ll find the truth she died protecting.”
Isabella lowered herself into a half–bow, her voice trembling but respectful. “Yes… young master.”
The title struck the air like a bell. Alone with him, she no longer hid the truth.
Adrian closed the velvet case, his hand steady again. The weight of despair was still there, but beneath it now burned an unshakable fire.
”
日
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
