The envelope was unmarked.
Inside, a single sheet of paper: Admitted. Full
ride. Report to Blackthorn Academy, 8 a.m.
No signature. No return address.
Just the kind of thing that made Lila Cross smil
e.
She’d spent the last ten years surviving the wre
ckage of her family.
Now, someone was handing her a shot at the peopl
e who destroyed them.
And she wasn’t about to waste it.
Blackthorn Academy loomed like a fortress on a c
liff.
Its towers pierced the fog rolling in from the A
tlantic.
The kind of place where old money sent their kid
s to become legends.
Or monsters.
Lila stepped out of the cab, her duffel slung ov
er one shoulder.
“Need help with that?”
A man’s voice. Smooth. Confident.
She turned.
Dark suit. Blue eyes. Built like a soldier.
But it was the way he looked at her — like he al
ready knew her name — that made her spine stiffe
n.
“I got it,” she said.
He smiled.
“I like that. Most don’t.”
“Most aren’t here to settle a score.”
He tilted his head.
“Is that what you’re doing?”
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she walked past him and into the academ
y.
The lobby was a museum of cold marble and older
secrets.
Portraits lined the walls. Men in uniforms. Wome
n in lab coats.
One photo stood out.
A man in a WWIIera flight jacket.
Same eyes as the man behind her.
“Your father?” she asked.
“Was.”
She glanced back.
“Was he the one who approved my scholarship?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
He stepped closer.
“That’s what you’re here to find out.”
The classroom was silent.
Rows of desks. Holographic displays.
A few students already seated, eyes scanning her
like a threat.
“Take a seat,” said the professor, a woman with
steelgray hair and a voice like a command.
Lila chose the back row.
As she sat, the man in the suit walked to the fr
ont of the class.
“My name is Rhys Blackthorn,” he said.
Some students gasped.
Lila didn’t.
She already knew who he was.
CEO of Blackthorn Biotech. One of the richest me
n in the world.
And possibly, the reason her parents were dead.
“Welcome to Advanced Neural Dynamics,” he said.
Lila’s fingers curled into fists.
Neural Dynamics.
The same field her father had been working in be
fore his lab exploded.
Before the government called it an accident.
Rhys glanced at her.
She stared back.
No way this was coincidence.
After class, Lila slipped into the archives.
Old student records. Faculty files.
Her father’s name came up once.
1944. Blackthorn Academy research fellow.
Project: NeuroFate.
Classified.
She tried to dig deeper, but a shadow fell over
her shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” Rhys said.
She didn’t turn around.
“I found his name.”
Silence.
Then: “He was brilliant.”
“He was murdered.”
Rhys stepped around her.
“You think I killed him?”
“I think you knew what he was working on.”
He leaned back against the shelf.
“Your father discovered something. A neural link
between people. A way to predict chemistry. Fat
e, if you want to call it that.”
Lila’s breath caught.
Fated mates.
The rumors she’d heard. Billionaires using scien
ce to find their perfect match.
“Why would that get him killed?”
Rhys’s jaw tightened.
“Because the government wanted to use it for war
.”
Lila’s mind raced.
That night, she didn’t go back to her dorm.
She went to the lab.
The one hidden beneath the campus.
Security was light.
Too light.
Like they were expecting her.
Inside, rows of pods. Cryochambers.
And a screen glowing in the dark.
Project NeuroFate — Active.
She stepped closer.
A list of names.
Hers. Rhys’s.
Matched.
Predicted.
Fated.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Rhys said fr
om the doorway.
She spun, heart pounding.
“Is this what you brought me here for?”
He walked toward her.
“I brought you here because your father wanted m
e to.”
She blinked.
“He left me a message. One condition. I had to f
ind his daughter. Train her. Protect her.”
“And?”
Rhys stopped inches from her.
“And now you’re here, I don’t know whether to ki
ss you or lock you in a vault.”
She smirked.
“Try either, and I’ll break your jaw.”
He grinned.
“I like that too.”
But the moment didn’t last.
Alarms blared.
Red lights flashed.
“Someone’s here,” Lila said.
Rhys’s face went cold.
“They found you.”
The lab door slammed open.
Men in black. Militarygrade gear.
One stepped forward.
“Step away from the console.”
Rhys moved in front of Lila.
“You know who she is,” he said.
The man nodded.
“We do. That’s why she can’t leave.”
Lila’s pulse spiked.
They knew about her. About her father.
About the project.
But they didn’t know what she’d done.
While they argued, she accessed the system.
Uploaded the data.
Sent it to every server she could find.
The truth.
Unlocked.
Exposed.
The leader turned.
“You little—”
Rhys moved fast.
Shot the man in the knee.
Grabbed Lila’s hand.
“Run.”
They sprinted through the tunnels.
Behind them, gunfire echoed.
“Where are we going?” she shouted.
“To the one place they can’t follow.”
“What is it?”
Rhys didn’t slow.
“My father’s old bunker. From the Cold War.”
They burst into a hidden hangar.
A sleek hovercraft waited.
Lila climbed in.
Rhys followed.
The craft lifted.
As they flew into the storm, Lila looked at him.
“You knew this would happen.”
He nodded.
“You were always going to find me.”
“And now?”
He reached for her hand.
“Now, we finish what your father started.”
The sky cracked open with lightning.
Somewhere below, the world was chasing them.
But up here, in the storm, Lila felt something s
he hadn’t in years.
Hope.
And the strange, undeniable pull of fate.
