Chapter 5 The Fire In His Name

Leo had the name now.

Cyrus Vale.

A man with no traceable childhood. No records before the age of twenty-seven. Every file Leo's private investigators pulled up seemed... planted. Crafted. Too perfect.

He sat at his office desk, flanked by two monitors-one displaying company archives, the other locked on Cyrus's security access logs.

Over the last three weeks, Cyrus had accessed three classified departments: Ardent Security Intelligence, Estate Development, and-most alarmingly-the Family Archives. The same archive Leo had just shown Amara.

"Why would he risk it?" Leo muttered aloud. "Why now?"

He tapped the encrypted call line.

"Silas."

"Yes, sir?"

"Find me everything on Cyrus Vale. I want photos from every CCTV feed we've got. Especially from the basement vaults. And scrub everything he touched."

"Understood."

He hung up and leaned back.

Cyrus wasn't just watching. He was preparing.

And Leo knew that look in Cyrus's eyes when he saw Amara.

He remembered.

Downstairs, Amara paced across the garden terrace behind Ardent Corp. She'd stepped out to breathe, but it hadn't helped. Her hands still trembled from the encounter.

"Lovely to see you again, Mariselle."

The way he said her name. As if it belonged to him.

She touched the small locket around her neck-something Estelle had gifted her months ago. She'd never opened it until now. The clasp clicked softly, revealing a tiny parchment rolled inside.

She unrolled it carefully.

A message in elegant, faded ink:

"When fire returns to the world of men, seek the one whose name it bears. For only he can bind or burn the bond of souls."

Amara swallowed hard.

Fire.

Cyrus.

Cyras.

It was him.

Not just a reincarnation. He had kept his name. Changed a single letter-just enough to fool the world.

But not her soul.

That night, Leo met with Rhea again in a secluded gallery she rented under an alias. The room was filled with strange artifacts, occult books, and dusty mirrors from the Victorian age.

She didn't greet him.

Instead, she slid a file across the table. Inside was a black-and-white photo from 1873.

A man in a tailored coat stood in the background of a masquerade-dark eyes and, grim smile.

Leo looked closer.

Then his stomach dropped.

It was Cyrus Vale.

"You see it now?" Rhea whispered. "He never died."

"But how?"

She lit a clove cigarette. "Because Cyras didn't just serve the Order of the Veiled Flame. He led them. The sigil you found-the flame surrounded by serpents? It's his. He created it."

Leo's hands clenched. "What does he want from Amara?"

"She's the last of the Mariselle line. The only one who can complete the Reclamation."

"What's the Reclamation?"

Rhea hesitated.

"An ancient ritual. One that can either seal souls for eternity... or merge them. Cyras believes if he binds Amara to him willingly, he'll gain eternal life. Not just reincarnation. Immortality."

Leo's voice dropped. "What happens if she resists?"

Rhea stared at him, eyes dark.

"Then she dies again."

Amara stayed in her apartment that evening, curtains drawn, doors bolted. She didn't want Leo to see how shaken she was. Not after how hard he was trying to stay composed.

But the moment she turned off the lights, her phone lit up.

Unknown Number.

She froze.

Then it rang again.

Hand trembling, she answered.

Silence.

Then-

"You remember now."

"The lakeside. The crimson gown. The way you looked at him."

"You loved me once, Mariselle. You will again."

Amara's breath hitched.

"Cyrus," she whispered.

He laughed softly. "Close."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be," he murmured. "Because the bond we made wasn't just broken. It was betrayed. And you'll feel every piece of it when we complete the circle."

She hung up and threw the phone across the room.

The locket burned against her skin.

Leo arrived less than fifteen minutes later. He didn't wait to be invited in. He stormed inside and wrapped Amara in a fierce embrace.

"I shouldn't have left you alone."

"You didn't know he'd call."

Leo pulled back. "Actually, I did. That's why I had your place tapped. I heard everything."

Amara blinked. "You what?"

"I had to know if he'd reach out. I wanted to protect you-"

"You spied on me, Leo."

His jaw clenched. "I did what I had to. You're in danger."

"So am I a person to you? Or a weapon in a war you inherited?"

Silence.

Then he looked away. "You're everything. That's why I'm terrified."

She softened, just a little.

"I don't want to be a pawn," she said.

"Then let's make you a queen," Leo replied, voice like steel.

At midnight, they returned to the archives, this time to the hidden vault. Beneath the marble floors, accessed by a sequence of mirrored steps and bloodline-coded entry points, was a chamber built by Leontius himself.

Amara stepped onto the center stone, and the room pulsed with heat. The sigil-the flame-lit up beneath her feet.

She gasped.

Leo moved beside her. "It responds to your blood."

A hum filled the air.

And then-the walls parted, revealing a mural spanning centuries: scenes of war, lovers in moonlight, a crown of fire, and a man's silhouette-always watching, always hunting.

Cyras.

Amara stared, heart pounding. "The Reclamation..."

Leo met her eyes. "He's going to try again."

"I won't let him."

"You won't have to." His hand slipped into hers.

"I'll burn the world before I let him touch you.