Page 218 of Without a Trace
Zeke tapped the map again. “Then we prep. Two trucks. Gear up. We go at sundown.”
Everyone nodded, the decision was made without question.
And beneath the fear, beneath the ache that still lived inside my skin, something else clicked into place.
Focus.
Fire.
***
The map was still spread out when the silence settled.
Everyone had moved into their corners. Kane checking gear. Rhett finishing breakfast. Alden cleaning weapons. Trace standing too still.
Zeke was the only one still at the table.
His eyes hadn’t left the Codex.
I moved closer. “What are you thinking?”
He hesitated.
“The last page is missing.”
I looked over to where he was pointing. “What?”
“The Codex. The original. There’s a page that used to come after the Binding laws. It's gone. Torn out. Some say it was lost. Others think it was hidden.”
Trace stepped forward, voice sharp. “What was on it?”
“No one knows for sure,” Zeke said. “But there were references. It supposedly described what happens when a bond isn’t sealed between two—but three.”
Alden looked up, tense. “You’re saying this was predicted?”
Zeke shook his head. “Not predicted. Feared.”
Kane whistled low. “So we’ve got a prophecy with a missing ending?”
“Basically,” Rhett muttered. “Feels on brand.”
I stared at the table.
“At least now we know why they’re afraid of us,” I whispered. “We’re the version they can't control.”
Zeke nodded.
“And maybe,” he added, “that’s why we survive.”
Scarlett
No one said it, but the air was holding its breath.
Weapons were checked. Gear packed. Voices low.
Everyone moved like they knew this safe-house was about to become a memory.
I stood at the mirror, tying my hair back. Boots laced. Blade strapped to my thigh. Trace’s jacket slung over my shoulders, the collar smelling like him—like smoke and something ancient.
