Ethan burned the body to ashes with a concentrated burst of Dragon Force. The wind carried the remains into the trees, and within moments there was nothing left of Master Garrett but scorched earth and the smell of something foul.He turned to Natasha.She was on the ground, her body curled inward, her skin flushed so deep it looked like she was burning from the inside out.Her breathing came in short, desperate bursts, and her consciousness was flickering in and out like a candle in a storm.The red powder had overwhelmed every defense she had, and even her combat discipline, the iron will that had kept her fighting long past the point where most people would have collapsed, was crumbling.Ethan knelt beside her and placed both hands on her shoulders, channeling Dragon Force into her bloodstream to neutralize the chemical agent.The moment his energy entered her body, something went wrong.The Resentful Dragon Force inside his core surged with a violence that nearly knocked him off h

Natasha stood. She picked up her bag from the chair beside the window, slung it over her shoulder, and walked to the door with the measured stride of someone who had already decided that everything behind her no longer existed.She did not look back. She did not thank him for saving her from Master Garrett.She did not acknowledge that he had neutralized the poison burning through her body.She simply opened the door, stepped through it, and closed it behind her with a soft click that sounded like a verdict being handed down in a courtroom where the defendant was not permitted to speak.The room was very quiet after that.Ethan sat on the edge of the bed for a long time. His eyes fell on the sheets and he saw what the Spirit had already told him.The evidence was small and unmistakable, and it told a story that did not match the one Natasha Sterling had been telling the world for years.The widow. The woman whose husband had died and left her alone.Her public story did not match her

The Grand Crestwood Hotel rose from the city center like a monument to the kind of money that never needs to announce itself. Glass and marble and gold leaf trimming on every surface, the kind of place where the doormen wore better suits than most of the guests and the lobby chandelier cost more than a house in the suburbs.The two black sedans pulled up to the front entrance and the Clarke family stepped out in order of perceived importance. Robert first. Victoria behind him. Serena after that. Ethan last, the way luggage comes off a conveyor belt after everyone has already walked away.A young man was waiting at the entrance with a smile so wide it looked like it had been stapled on. Cousin Miles Clarke, mid twenties, with a tailored blazer that was one size too tight and the kind of eager, hungry energy that belongs to people who survive by licking the right boots at the right time. He was one of the eldest branch's reliable foot soldiers, the type who could smell which direction p

Harrison Clarke did not believe in small talk. He had built the Clarke Group with the same philosophy he applied to every conversation: get to the point, crush the opposition, and leave the room before anyone recovers enough to argue.He sat at the head of the table with a glass of red wine he had not touched, his silver hair combed back in rigid lines, and his eyes moving across the room with the slow, patient focus of a man deciding which limbs to cut from a tree he had planted sixty years ago.The appetizers had not arrived yet when he opened his mouth and ended the evening for the second branch."Robert." Harrison's voice was not loud. It did not need to be. Every person at the table stopped breathing the moment he spoke. "I want your daughter to divorce that coreless husband of hers. I have tolerated this embarrassment long enough."Robert nearly knocked over his wine glass in his rush to nod. "Absolutely, Father. I've been saying the same thing for months. The boy is a stain on

Warren coughed into his napkin. Grant choked on his drink.Sophia leaned toward Ethan with a warm, familiar smile that caught the entire table off guard. "Dr. Morrison, please, sit beside me. I've heard wonderful things about your work, and I'd love to hear more."She patted the seat next to her as if they were old friends reconnecting at a reunion. Lawrence's eyebrows lifted. Blake's skepticism deepened. Warren made a note of it in his mind the way accountants note irregularities on a balance sheet."Sophia playing the 'first meeting' card smooth as butter," the Spirit observed. "I like her. She lies with grace. Very few people manage that without looking constipated."Blake was not finished. He uncrossed his arms and pointed one thick finger at Ethan. "Alright, miracle boy. Lawrence says you're the real deal. Prove it. Read my fortune. Tell me something about my life that you couldn't have Googled on the way here."The table went quiet. This was a test, and everyone knew it.Ethan l