Novels by Rachel Holt

Victor Ashford spent the entire day making phone calls. By noon, he had contacted every business partner Ashford Industries had worked with over the past ten years. Some answered. Most did not. The ones who did answer were polite. Professional. But distant. "Victor, I am in a meeting right now. Can I call you back?" "Victor, we need to discuss our partnership later. Not a good time." "Victor, let me check my schedule and get back to you." No one called back. By 3 PM, Victor received the first official notice. An email from Peterson Manufacturing. One of Ashford Industries' oldest partners. They had been working together for fifteen years. The email was short. Three sentences. "Dear Mr. Ashford, we regret to inform you that Peterson Manufacturing will be terminating our partnership with Ashford Industries effective immediately. This decision is final. We wish you the best in your future endeavors." No explanation or phone call. Just three cold sentences. Victor stared at th

The news spread overnight.By morning, Ethan's name was everywhere. Every social media platform. Every news outlet. Every conversation.#JusticeForVivian was trending worldwide.Claire called him at 7 AM. Her voice was tight. Controlled. But he could hear the strain underneath."Have you seen it?" she asked."Yes.""The board is calling an emergency meeting. They want me to make a public statement distancing the company from you.""Are you going to?"Claire was quiet for a moment. "No.""Claire—""I am not going to throw you under the bus because of lies.""The stock dropped 20% in five hours.""I know.""It is going to get worse before it gets better.""I know that too." Claire exhaled slowly. "Ethan, what are you going to do?"He looked out the window of the study. The sun was rising over the city. "What I should have done from the beginning.""What does that means?""It means I am done being quiet."He ended the call.---Ethan sat at his desk for a long time, staring at the black

"To my son! Welcome back!"Victor Ashford raised his champagne glass high above his head. The ballroom of his private estate was packed with guests. Business partners. Politicians. Journalists. Everyone who mattered in the city.Marcus stood beside his father, wearing an expensive suit and a forced smile. His hand was still bandaged from the injuries he sustained weeks ago. But tonight was not about his injuries. Tonight was about redemption."My son," Victor continued, his voice booming across the room, "has been through hell. He was falsely accused. Arrested. Humiliated. All because of one man's vendetta."The crowd murmured sympathetically."But justice prevailed," Victor said. "The charges were dropped. The accusations were proven false. And now Marcus is free. Free to reclaim his life. Free to reclaim his future."Applause erupted.Marcus nodded graciously, shaking hands with guests who approached to congratulate him. He played the role perfectly. The victim. The wrongly accused

The crowd erupted in applause.Howard looked at Ethan. "You should leave. Before this gets worse for you.""Worse how?""We could call security. Have you removed for trespassing.""I was invited.""By someone who does not have our trust anymore." Gerald crossed his arms. "Leave. Now. Or we will have you escorted out."The crowd was watching and Waiting.Ethan stood there silently his hands at his sides.Patricia called out, "Tell Claire we will be voting to remove her next week! And we will be cutting off her little charity project too!"More laughter. Louder this time.Gerald stepped closer. "Did you hear me? I said leave. Now.""Or what?" Ethan asked quietly."Or we will have security remove you.""Go ahead."Gerald's smile faltered. "What?""Call security. Have me removed. Do whatever you think you need to do."Patricia looked confused. "You are not going to leave?""No.""Then you are even more pathetic than I thought." She turned to the crowd. "Everyone, look at this. He does not

The Grand Riverside Hotel ballroom was packed.Ethan walked in alone. Simple black suit. Nothing expensive. He had not wanted to come but James insisted. "You need to show your face. Hiding makes you look guilty."The moment Ethan stepped through the entrance, conversations stopped.People stared. Then the whispers started."That is him.""The convict.""Living off Claire Sterling's money."Ethan walked toward the far side of the room, looking for a quiet corner. He did not make it halfway before Gerald blocked his path.Gerald was not alone. Patricia stood beside him. Howard was there too. And five other Sterling Global board members formed a semi-circle around Ethan.People nearby stopped talking. Started watching."Well, well," Gerald said. His voice carried across the room. "Look who decided to show up."Ethan said nothing."Tell me something, Mr. Cross," Gerald continued. "Do you have an invitation? Or did you just walk in off the street?""I was invited.""By who? Claire Sterlin

Marcus's father was named Victor Ashford.He was not a good man. But he was a powerful one.Victor owned three manufacturing companies, held board positions at two major banks, and had connections that stretched through every level of the business community. Politicians owed him favors. CEOs took his calls. When Victor Ashford spoke, people listened.And right now, Victor was furious.His son had been arrested. Humiliated. Dragged out of a villa by military soldiers and held in detention for three days. The family name had been dragged through the mud. Business partners were asking questions. Investors were getting nervous.All because of one man.Ethan Cross.Victor sat in his office on the top floor of his headquarters building, staring out the window at the city below. His hands were clasped behind his back. His jaw was tight.He had made some calls. Done some digging. Found out everything he could about Ethan Cross.Ex-convict. No family wealth. No education. No connections.And y

The observation deck at the top of the crystalline spire had become Jack's favorite place to think. From here, he could see the entire city spread out below—rebuilt stronger and more beautiful than it had ever been, filled with people living lives that would have been impossible without the protection his network provided.But tonight, as the dual moons cast silver light across the transformed skyline, Jack wasn't admiring their achievements. He was remembering where it all began."Hard to believe it started with Charles Oliver's execution," he said aloud, knowing his friends would hear him through their permanent mental link even though they were scattered across different dimensions on various missions."You mean it started with a weak boy nobody wanted," Lucy's voice replied warmly through their connection, her protective instincts wrapping around the memory with fierce affection.Jack smiled, pressing his hand against the medallion that had become part of his chest. The golden sur

The war room deep within the crystalline spire had become the nerve center for the most ambitious defensive project in dimensional history. Holographic displays showed the status of their entire universal cluster—thousands of realities connected by the portal network, each one now monitored by their expanded consciousness.Jack stood at the center of it all, no longer the weak boy who had once struggled to survive in a world that saw him as worthless. The medallion had become so integrated with his being that its golden surface was visible beneath his skin, pulsing with the rhythm of dimensional currents across countless worlds. But unlike the corrupt artifacts that had consumed previous wielders, his medallion was sustained by the bonds that connected him to his friends."Protocol Seven is now fully operational across all monitored dimensions," Sierra reported, her tactical awareness coordinating defensive measures on a scale that would have been incomprehensible months ago. "Early w

Six months after the dimensional crisis, their city bore little resemblance to the place that had nearly been destroyed by Vale's invasion. The rebuilding hadn't simply restored what was lost—it had created something entirely new.Where the old council headquarters had stood, a crystalline spire now reached toward the sky, its faceted surface designed to detect dimensional anomalies from hundreds of miles away. The building served as headquarters for the Dimensional Monitoring Initiative, the organization Jack and his friends had established to prevent future crises."Seventeen minor rifts detected across the northern sectors this week," Sierra reported during their morning briefing, her tactical awareness processing data streams that would have overwhelmed any individual mind. "All within normal parameters, but the frequency is increasing."Jack nodded, his consciousness simultaneously monitoring the reports while maintaining awareness of dimensional currents across their entire real

As the final seconds of his transformation ticked away, Jack felt his consciousness crystallize around a revelation that changed everything. The medallions' power didn't have to choose between perfect guardianship and human connection—it could create something entirely new."What if the burden doesn't have to be mine alone?" he said through their shared mental link, his voice carrying wonder despite his fading physical form. "What if we've been thinking about this wrong from the beginning?"Through their psychic connection, his friends felt his idea taking shape—not one guardian managing impossible responsibilities, but a network of consciousness that could handle the dimensional network's complexity while remaining anchored to humanity."You mean permanent integration?" Sierra breathed, her enhanced understanding immediately grasping the implications. "All of us linked directly to the dimensional network?""The ancient guardians failed because they became isolated from the people the

Jack's consciousness spread like spilled mercury across the dimensional network, his awareness touching worlds he'd never imagined. He could feel the pulse of life on countless planets, sense the delicate balance that held reality together, perceive threats to dimensional stability that existed light-years away.It was overwhelming and magnificent and terrifying all at once.Through his expanded perception, he could see their own world as just one node in an infinite web—small, fragile, but pulsing with the fierce determination of beings who refused to surrender to despair. He could feel Mrs. Sophie organizing relief efforts in the ruined city, Lord Rasmus's surviving soldiers helping with rescue operations despite their old conflicts, even the corrupted treasure hunters slowly recovering their humanity as the dimensional toxins were purged from their systems.But he could also feel himself slipping away from all of it. His connection to individual human concerns was fading as cosmic

The moment Jack's hand closed around Vale's dark medallion, reality screamed.Two opposing forces—one meant to protect, one designed to consume—collided within his consciousness with the fury of colliding stars. Jack felt his sense of self being torn apart and rebuilt simultaneously, his awareness expanding beyond the boundaries of single-dimensional existence.Vale's eyes widened in shock as his dark artifact began resonating with Jack's medallion, the two pieces fighting for dominance within the same host. "What are you doing, you fool? You'll destroy us both!""Maybe," Jack gasped, feeling the competing energies threaten to tear his mind apart. "But at least I'll take you with me."The dark medallion's hunger crashed against Jack's consciousness like a tidal wave of pure malevolence. It whispered promises of power beyond imagination, showed him visions of ruling infinite realities, offered him the ability to reshape existence according to his will. The corruption was overwhelming,

The Darkness coiled around Jacob like a living thing, tendrils searching for entry points while he struggled to maintain the merged artifact's protective aura. Anna's anchor helped but was not enough—the entity was too strong and Jacob too depleted to hold it back indefinitely.Then he realized the Darkness was not actually trying very hard to possess him.It was distracted. Still reaching toward Anna with the bulk of its attention, using Jacob as an obstacle to navigate around rather than a target worth consuming. The entity wanted her specifically, wanted the guardian bloodline for reasons Jacob could not begin to guess.He channeled power through the merged artifact despite having nothing left to channel. Drew on reserves that did not exist, pulled energy from places that should have been empty. The weapon blazed with light that was more will than actual power, bright enough to hurt looking at but lacking the substance to truly repel the Darkness.It was enough. Barely.The shadow

Anna moved to Jacob's left without needing coordination. They had trained together enough that positioning was instinctive—her guardian abilities complemented his warrior techniques, creating gaps in enemy defenses that neither could exploit alone.Verons attacked her first, correctly identifying her as the weaker target. His shadow-blade carved through air fast enough to create sonic disruption.Anna blocked with a barrier that should not have held against that much force. Should not have, but did—because Jacob was channeling power through the merged artifact to reinforce her defense, the two of them connected through combat in ways that went beyond simple teamwork.She countered while Verons was still recovering from the unexpected resistance. Guardian light blazed from both hands in concentrated beams aimed at the joints in his shadow-armor where the protection looked weakest.Jacob attacked simultaneously from the other side. Not trying to hurt Verons directly but creating pressur

Jacob broke the blade-lock and stumbled backward, his transformed body finally showing signs of strain it should not have been capable of feeling. The merged artifacts' power was infinite in theory but channeling that infinity through flesh—even modified flesh—had limits that were now approaching faster than he wanted to admit.Verons pressed forward immediately. He had been waiting for this, watching for the moment when Jacob's control started slipping. Shadow-blade carved through Jacob's guard and scored a deep cut across his ribs that did not heal as fast as previous wounds.The artifacts' power was depleting. Not gone but no longer flowing at the rate needed to maintain the transformation at full strength. Jacob's semi-translucent form was becoming more solid again, divine fire in his eyes dimming to something closer to normal human intensity."There it is," Verons said, driving another strike home that Jacob only partially deflected. "The moment when unlimited power reveals its l

Jacob changed tactics immediately. If the Darkness fed on mystical energy, he would fight physically. No more reality manipulation, no more ancestral techniques that required channeling power through the artifacts. Just blade work and combat skill earned through his own training.Verons met him in the temple's main courtyard, which was now more crater than structure. They fought across broken stone and shattered columns, each strike delivered with precision but minimal mystical enhancement.It was not enough. The Darkness had already grown too strong from hours of feeding. Verons was faster than before, his shadow-enhanced reflexes outpacing even Jacob's transformed state. Every defensive position Jacob took, Verons found the opening. Every attack Jacob launched, Verons countered with something pulled from the entity's infinite memory of combat.They crashed through the courtyard's western wall and into what had been meditation chambers. The quiet spaces where guardians had trained fo

The explosion cleared and both fighters still stood. Impossible, but there they were—Jacob wreathed in light that pushed back the shadows, Verons coated in darkness that absorbed the illumination around him. The ground between them had been carved into a crater fifty feet deep.Neither spoke. They just attacked again, resuming the battle without pause as if the reality-breaking explosion had been nothing more than catching their breath.Time became meaningless. The fight could have lasted minutes or hours or days—Jacob had no way to measure it anymore. His perception had shifted into something that experienced combat differently, each exchange of blows containing infinite complexity that unfolded across microseconds.The temple's upper levels collapsed. They fought through the falling debris, neither bothering to dodge when massive stones the size of houses crashed down around them. Jacob's light-blade carved through obstacles while Verons's shadow simply dissolved anything that touch

Jacob burned the shadow corruption from his ribs with raw guardian energy, but the effort cost him. The Darkness was not just trying to wound him anymore—it was actively attempting invasion, using every opening Verons created to push tendrils of itself into Jacob's transformed body.His mother's warning still echoed in his mind. The price. There was always a price for power this absolute.But he could worry about prices later. Right now Verons was attacking again and Jacob had to respond or die.Their blades met and the impact sent cracks racing through what remained of the temple floor. Stone that had stood for millennia shattered like glass. The air itself rippled from the energy release, creating visible distortions that made it difficult to see clearly.Jacob countered with a technique his ancestor had used to kill a shadow demon in the year 843. The merged artifact blazed with light that forced the shadows back, creating a sphere of clarity around him where reality functioned nor