Chapter 97

The vice-captain's lips curled into a mocking sneer. "The Obsidian Circle doesn't forgive traitors. You slipped away once, but your luck ends today."

Evelyn's face drained of color. Her vision swam, and she stumbled back, her mind reeling.

The cold glint of a gun appeared in his hand, aimed directly at her heart.

She couldn't process it. A spy? Sent by the Obsidian Circle to steal secrets from Liam before her memory vanished?

He advanced slowly, the barrel unwavering.

"Liam is starting to suspect me," he hissed. "Soon, he'll uncover that I was the one who tried to kill you before. My cover is blown—and yours will be too."

His voice dripped with venom. "You'll die either way—by our hands or his."

Self-loathing coiled in Evelyn's chest like a serpent.

She could accept being cruel in her past. She could bear the shame of corruption and start anew.

But a spy? That stain would never fade. A criminal. An enemy to both Liam and their country.

The thought of dying by his hand shattered her.

"Just do it," she whispered, hollow.

The click of the hammer echoed in the silence.

She shut her eyes, surrendering to the darkness. No second chances for someone like her.

A gunshot cracked through the air.

Evelyn flinched—but no pain came.

Instead, strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her against a familiar warmth. Liam's scent enveloped her, cedar and steel.

Tears blurred her vision as she went limp in his embrace.

"Why didn't you run?" His voice was rough with frustration.

She stayed silent.

"General Blackwood—he's dead," Adrian reported from somewhere nearby.

Liam's breath fanned over her ear, his pulse wild against her skin. The fate of a traitor meant nothing to him—not when terror still clawed at his throat.

Evelyn closed her eyes again. Soon, that would be her. She couldn't bear the thought of Liam being the one to pull the trigger.

She didn't dare imagine tomorrow.

Liam frowned, sensing her unnatural stillness. Gently, he pushed her back to study her face—pale, tear-streaked.

"Were you scared?" he asked, softer now.

Her tears fell harder. Still, no words came.

Without another sound, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the waiting car.

——

The hospital cleared her, but Evelyn barely registered it. Back in her dorm, she burrowed under the blankets, craving oblivion.

Liam didn't notice her silence. Duty called him away.

First, he dissected the spy's background. Then, he replayed the surveillance footage, frame by frame.

Evelyn had been running toward safety—until the traitor's words froze her in place. Her expression had crumbled after that.

Something icy slithered down Liam's spine.

By evening, he couldn't stay away any longer. He needed to see her.

But as he stepped out, Adrian rushed up, breathless. "General Blackwood—Madam Carter is gone. She left this."

A letter.

Liam's jaw tightened as he snatched it. The neat script inside was painfully formal:

Dear General Blackwood,

Thank you for your care these past days. I know you're busy, so I won't impose further. I've recovered enough to return home.

Forgive me for leaving without notice.

His fist clenched, crumpling the paper. A cold smile twisted his lips.

General Blackwood.

Since when had she ever called him that?

The entire note reeked of distance.

In this age, she could've called. Texted. Yet she chose a damn letter.

Adrian shifted nervously. "Sir, maybe she took a later flight. I can check the airport—"

"No." Liam strode back inside, tossing the letter into the trash.

"But Madam—"

"She's nobody," Liam cut in, voice flat. "Her presence or absence changes nothing."

He returned to his paperwork, but Adrian hesitated.

Nobody?

Then why had Liam nearly torn the base apart when she was attacked? Why had he barely slept while tending to her injuries?

Adrian didn't dare ask. He retreated quietly.

The moment the door shut, Liam dropped the facade. The documents fell from his hands as he sagged into his chair, eyes closing against the ache in his chest.

It hurt.

——

Ten days later.

3 AM. Somewhere in the office, Adrian and Ryan slumped over the couch.

"How long has it been?" Adrian mumbled, eyes shut.

"Ten days," Ryan groaned. "Ten. Straight."

"Feels like a decade," Adrian moaned, sitting up suddenly. His tired eyes gleamed. "Don't you think the General's been... off since Madam left?"