Colson

The Lie That Buys Time

Colson POV

Amaris didn’t move to stop me when I reached for the door.

That alone told me how serious this was.

“You should have a few days,” she said, her voice calm but weighted. “The watch bought you time. Not safety. Time.”

“Good,” I replied lightly. “I do my best work when the universe is actively threatening me.”

She ignored that, as she always did when I was deflecting instead of listening.

“You need to stay off Ezra’s radar,” she continued. “No deviations that can’t be explained. No unnecessary bloodshed. You return to the city as you would have.”

I grimaced. “So… arrogant, sarcastic, morally questionable, and pretending I don’t care about anything.”

“Yes.”

“…wow. You really know me.”

Her gaze softened for just a heartbeat. “I know enough.”

She crossed the room and retrieved a small wrapped object from a hidden compartment in the wall. When she placed it in my hands, I immediately felt it—old magic, muted and carefully restrained. Not dangerous in itself, but convincing.

“This will satisfy Ezra,” she said. “It’s real enough to hold his interest, flawed enough to send him searching in the wrong direction.”

I turned it over, inspecting the faint runes. “So this is the magical equivalent of busywork.”

“Exactly.”

“I love it already.”

She didn’t smile this time. “It will also give you an excuse to leave the city again. Ezra will want you chasing what he believes is a lead.”

“Perfect,” I said. “I was worried I’d have to invent a sudden passion for long walks and solitude.”

She hesitated, then looked at me intently.

“Colson,” she said, “do you know what happens to a vampire who touches the book?”

I snorted. “Let me guess. Bursts into flames. Screams dramatically. Ruins a perfectly good coat.”

Her expression remained grave.

“You would burn,” she said. “From the inside out. The wards don’t merely repel vampires. They punish them.”

I sobered, nodding slowly. “So bursting into flames wasn’t far off.”

“But,” I added, meeting her eyes, “I’m not just a vampire.”

Her brows knit slightly.

“I’m… special,” I said. “In ways even future you didn’t see coming. I carry something Ezra doesn’t know exists. Something that changes the rules.”

“The crystal,” she said quietly.

I blinked. “You already knew.”

“I suspected,” she replied. “Your magic feels anchored. As if the earth itself recognizes you.”

“Fantastic,” I muttered. “I always wanted the planet’s attention.”

She studied me for a long moment. “Even so—be careful. Don’t assume immunity where there may only be resistance.”

“I won’t,” I said. And this time, I meant it.

She stepped closer and tucked the artifact into my coat pocket, her fingers lingering for a fraction longer than necessary.

“Bring the real piece back to me,” she said softly. “When you can.”

“I will.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the others. Charged with everything we weren’t saying.

“What you’re doing,” she said at last, “will cost you something. It always does.”

I offered a crooked smile. “I’ve already accepted that my life runs on interest and debt.”

That earned me a quiet huff of laughter.

When I stepped outside, the city’s pull hit me immediately—familiar, suffocating, inevitable. The warmth I felt near her dulled to an echo, replaced by the cold hum of wards, ambition, and old sins waiting patiently for my return.

I crossed back over the boundary and slid into my old skin like a well-worn lie.

Near the gate, a newspaper lay abandoned, edges fluttering in the breeze. The headline caught my eye immediately.

NEW ALPHA TO ENTER CITY TONIGHT – ANCIENT GEM RUMORED

I froze.

Tonight.

This night.

Memory surged forward, sharp and unwelcome.

This was the night everything began to tilt.

The night a new Alpha crossed the city line carrying a gem powerful enough to make even Ezra nervous. The night the air shifted, alliances trembled, and the first crack appeared in Ezra’s reign.

Zane.

Ezra’s death wasn’t far off anymore.

Neither was my peace—the fragile, hard-earned kind I hadn’t believed I’d ever deserve.

I folded the paper slowly, tucking it under my arm as my thoughts spiraled.

Because this night wasn’t just important for Ezra.

It was important for them.

For my future family.

This was the night I pissed Sage off so badly she nearly knocked my teeth out in a fighting ring.

I huffed a quiet laugh at the memory.

I’d been insufferable. Condescending. Careless with her boundaries. I’d underestimated her—badly—and she’d made damn sure I never did again.

It had been ugly.

And somehow… necessary.

Because—that argument—was what cracked the wall between us. What forced mutual respect. What started the long, reluctant road toward trust, then friendship, then family.

But what happens if I’m not there this time?

What happens if I don’t intervene when I did in the past?

If I don’t distract Ezra at the right moment?

If I don’t help Zane from the shadows the way I once did—without even realizing how important it was?

So much of what followed had been built on moments I hadn’t thought mattered at the time.

Moments I’d watched from the edges.

From the dark.

From behind someone else’s spotlight.

And now I was choosing to step away from that role.

To chase the book instead.

To rewrite something deeper.

I exhaled slowly, the weight of it pressing in.

“You can’t save everyone,” I muttered to myself. “You never could.”

But that didn’t stop the fear curling in my gut.

If I changed too much—

If I wasn’t where I was supposed to be—

Would Sage still become the woman I trusted with my back?

Would Zane still rise the way he was meant to?

Would my future family even exist?

Or would I save the world… and lose everything else?

I started walking deeper into the city, the artifact warm against my side, the watch silent for now.

“Guess that’s the gamble,” I said under my breath.

Because this time, I wasn’t choosing comfort.

I wasn’t choosing familiarity.

I was choosing timing.

And somewhere ahead of me, fate was already adjusting—threads tightening, others loosening—waiting to see if I’d pull the right one.

Or snap the whole damn tapestry apart.