The print
895 Words
My heart wouldn’t stop racing.
Even in silence, it thundered behind my ribs like war drums.
It had been hours since Father returned from the crime scene. And still, I could hear it—
The heavy swing of the palace gates.
The echo of his boots across marble.
The low hum of danger that followed him like smoke.
Now, I stood outside his war room.
Every step toward that door felt like walking toward my own execution.
My hand trembled as I raised it to knock.
Then I heard his voice—sharp, commanding, unshakable.
“Pull the files again. Triple-check the radius cameras. I don’t want a single blind spot.”
A soldier answered, voice clipped.
“Yes, Commander. And the forensic team confirmed—”
“Save it. I’ll see it myself.”
My stomach dropped.
I backed away instinctively—but the door opened before I could escape.
And there he was.
General Ardan Ravencroft.
The kingdom’s most feared commander. My father.
Still in uniform, medals gleaming like bloodstained stars. But when his eyes landed on me—
Not suspicion.
Not rage.
Just love.
A deep, bone-aching love that almost broke me.
“Evelyn,” he said softly. “Didn’t expect you to be up this late.”
I forced a smile that felt like it cracked my whole face.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered. “I… heard you came back.”
He peeled off his gloves slowly. Dried blood speckled the fingertips.
I swallowed.
“How was it?” I asked, like I wasn’t talking about a murder scene I might have created.
He studied me. Too long. Too carefully.
“It was brutal,” he said finally. “Blood on the pavement. Viscera hanging off the bridge like a message.”
A chill scraped down my spine.
“A message?” I echoed.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe just carelessness. But whoever did it was scared. They rushed it.”
He paused.
“We found prints. A partial fingerprint on the railing. And hair. Dark. Female.”
The world tilted slightly. My fingers twitched.
“It’s with the lab now,” he added. “DNA results soon.”
I tried to breathe—but it felt like my lungs were made of glass.
“That’s good,” I managed. “That you found something.”
His eyes didn’t leave mine.
“You alright?”
No.
Absolutely not.
“Yes,” I lied. “Just tired.”
He stepped forward, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.
His touch always used to comfort me.
Now it just made the guilt burn hotter.
“You’ve always made me proud, Evelyn,” he said.
My throat closed.
“Don’t ever become someone I can’t protect.”
His words were soft.
But underneath?
A warning.
He walked away, and I stood there, shaking like a girl made of glass.
I didn’t sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the bridge.
The river swallowing secrets.
The corpse turning in mid-air.
Smiling.
You’re next, it whispered.
I woke up screaming into a pillow, my breath catching like wire in my chest.
By morning, I was sitting in the palace breakfast hall, untouched food on a silver tray.
Everything around me sparkled like royalty.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said.
Dark hair.
Partial print.
DNA results soon.
What if they matched me?
What if I missed a drop of blood?
What if they already knew?
A knock startled me. The tray nearly flipped.
Cassian stepped in.
Of course it was him.
My protector. My shadow. My weakness.
“Eve,” he said softly. “You haven’t returned my calls.”
“I’ve been… tired,” I said, too quickly.
He studied me, his eyes the color of warm whiskey—sweet, strong, and dangerous if you drank too much.
“You look pale.”
I didn’t answer.
He moved closer, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. That touch should’ve felt safe.
Instead, it made my stomach twist.
“I know something’s wrong,” he said gently. “Is it about the murder?”
My breath caught.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because your father’s acting like someone hit a nerve. He’s not just hunting the killer. He’s taking it personally.”
Because he should.
Because he’s hunting me.
Cassian tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him.
“Whatever this is… you can tell me.”
No. I couldn’t.
If I told him, he’d protect me for exactly five minutes—then drag me straight to my father.
So instead, I kissed him.
Hard.
Desperate.
A kiss that tasted like blood and goodbye.
That night, the air was colder than before.
I stood by the window, watching the moon bleed silver over the city.
And I felt it again. That ache under my skin.
The echo of something buried.
Something programmed.
The Siren.
The voice inside me that didn’t belong to me.
My phone buzzed.
UNKNOWN
They’re watching you. Don’t trust anyone. Not even him.
Cassian?
My throat tightened.
I stared into the glass. My reflection didn’t look like me anymore.
You did it, the voice in my mind whispered again.
You know you did.
And for the first time, I whispered back—
I think I did too.
- Writer
