2025-02-18 19:20:16I don’t have time to bleed.
The train rumbles beneath me, the cold metal pressing into my back as I stare up at the dark sky. My shoulder is a mess, my ribs feel like they’ve been crushed, and my head won’t stop pounding from the fight at the station. But pain doesn’t matter. The Oath is still after me. I need to keep moving. I climb down the side of the train, slipping through the door into an empty car. The overhead lights flicker, casting shadows on the torn seats and graffiti-covered walls. No passengers. Good. I need a moment to think. I drop onto a seat, pressing my fingers against the wound on my shoulder. Not deep, but still bleeding. I rip a strip from my ruined shirt and wrap it tight. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do for now. My mind shifts back to the USB drive. The corrupted files. The message. You made the right choice, Nathan. But they will never let you walk away. What choice? What did I do? I don’t remember. But someone does. And if The Oath wants me alive, it means I’m still useful to them. I need answers before they find me. I pull out my phone. A burner. Untraceable, but even those can be tracked if I’m not careful. No calls. No texts. I need someone I can trust. One name comes to mind. Riley Kade. If anyone can crack the drive, it’s her. Last I heard, she was working security for an underground syndicate. If she’s still in the game, she can get past any encryption. She can tell me what The Oath is trying to hide. The train slows. I get off at a small station on the edge of the city, keeping my head down. Cameras are everywhere, and I don’t know how many of them belong to The Oath. I disappear into the streets, moving fast, hands in my pockets, shoulders hunched. My body is exhausted, but rest isn’t an option. Finding Riley isn’t easy. She doesn’t just hide—she erases herself. But I know who to ask. After a few dead ends—and some “persuasion”—I get an address. An old warehouse near the docks. I approach carefully, scanning every shadow, checking every rooftop. If Riley is still Riley, she’s watching me right now. The door is locked. Not a normal lock. No keypad. No keyhole. A biometric scanner. Military-grade. I smirk. Classic Riley. I knock once. Nothing. I knock again, this time in a pattern only she would recognize. Silence. Then, a voice crackles from a speaker above the door. “Nathan Vale. I was wondering when you’d come crawling back.” Her tone is sharp, amused. “Open the door, Riley.” She doesn’t. “You’re bleeding on my doorstep. That’s rude.” “I’ll buy you a new doorstep.” A pause. Then—a click. The door unlocks. I step inside. The place is filled with screens, wires, and enough tech to break into the Pentagon. Riley sits in a chair, feet propped on a desk, flipping a knife between her fingers. Her dark eyes scan me, taking in the torn clothes, the bandaged shoulder, the exhaustion I can’t hide. “You look like hell,” she says. “Feel worse.” She nods to the chair across from her. “Sit. Talk.” I drop into the chair, exhaling slowly. “I need you to decrypt something.” I pull out the USB and place it on the table. Riley doesn’t touch it. She just looks at me. “Where did you get this?” “From me.” She raises an eyebrow. “I had it hidden. Didn’t even know I had it until today. The Oath wiped my memory, but this survived.” Her smirk fades. She picks up the drive, turning it over in her fingers. “If The Oath wanted this erased, then whatever’s on here is dangerous.” “Exactly.” She slides it into one of her computers. Her fingers fly across the keyboard. Lines of code fill the screen, scrolling too fast for me to follow. She frowns. “This encryption isn’t standard.” Her voice is quieter now. “It’s layered. Someone really wanted to keep this buried.” A progress bar appears. Thirty percent. Forty. Then—the screen flickers. Riley curses. “Shit. It’s fighting back.” The system starts shutting down. Files scramble. The drive is erasing itself. No. Not now. Riley’s hands blur over the keyboard. Bypassing firewalls. Isolating corrupted data. Trying to save what she can. Then— A single line of text flashes before the drive self-destructs. A name. Elias Graves. My pulse pounds in my ears. Riley turns to me, her face grim. “Who the hell is Elias Graves?” The question burns in my mind. I don’t know. But something deep inside me does. And it terrifies me.
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SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 11
I pushed open the rusted metal door. The smell of cigarette smoke and old wiring filled my nose.The underground hacking den looked the same—dim lights, walls lined with servers, the air thick with heat and tension. The glow of computer screens painted the room in blue and green light. Some people were lost in their screens, others watched me carefully.And then, I saw her.Riley sat at a desk, typing so fast it made my head spin. The moment she noticed me, she stopped. Then, she sighed and leaned back in her chair, throwing her boots up on the desk.“Well, well. Look who’s still alive.” She crossed her arms, smirking. “What do you want, Nathan?”Her voice was playful, but her sharp hazel eyes were already scanning me, calculating the risks.I stepped forward. “I need your help.”She let out a short laugh. “Last time I helped you, I almost got killed. Remember that?”I did. Too well. She barely made it out that night. She saved me. And I never forgot the way her hands shook after.“I
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 12
The glow from Riley’s monitors paints the room in cold blue light, flickering across her face as she types furiously, her fingers moving faster than my eyes can follow. I watch from the edge of the room, arms crossed, pulse still racing from the last hour. The warehouse feels smaller, the air thick with old electricity and unsaid words.She hasn’t spoken since the system rebooted itself, since the warning message crackled through the speakers like a whisper from the grave.You should’ve stayed out of this, Nathan.The voice still lingers in my head, an unwelcome echo. I don’t scare easily, but something about it feels too personal. Like someone reaching through the dark, just to remind me I was already in the grave—I just hadn’t realized it yet.Riley exhales sharply, frustration laced through the sound. "Whatever’s on this drive, they really don’t want us to see it," she mutters, tapping a few more keys. A progress bar crawls across the screen at a painfully slow rate.I force myself
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 13
I leaned over Riley’s shoulder, my pulse hammering as she worked on the corrupted files. The glow from her monitor painted our faces in blue and green, flickering like a heartbeat. I could see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers moved faster than normal. She was worried."Anything?" I asked, my voice tight.She exhaled sharply. "Some of it’s fried, but..." Her fingers flew over the keyboard, and suddenly, a fragment of text appeared.A name.Julian Cross.A cold, sharp feeling stabbed through my chest.No. That’s impossible.I took a step back, my throat dry. "Where—where did that name come from?"Riley shot me a look, the kind that saw right through me. "It was buried in the metadata of one of the files. You know him, don’t you?"I did.Julian wasn’t just a name. He was my best friend. My brother in all but blood. And if his name was here, tied to this mess, something was very, very wrong.I forced myself to breathe, but my thoughts spun like a storm. Julian had been off the
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 14
Riley is too quiet.Not her usual kind of silence—the one where she’s working, focused, fingers flying over the keyboard. This is different.This is the kind of silence that makes my skin crawl. That makes my pulse stutter before my brain even catches up.I step closer. "What is it?"She doesn’t answer. Just stares at the screen like it holds something impossible. Like the words on it changed everything."Riley," I snap. "Talk to me."She flinches. Slowly, she turns to face me, and the look in her eyes hits me like a gut punch.Fear.Not the kind where something feels off.The kind that’s personal.The kind that has my name written all over it.My stomach knots. "What the hell did you find?"She hesitates, then takes a deep breath and spins the laptop toward me.At first, I don’t understand what I’m looking at. A security log. A list of names.And then I see mine.Nathan Vale.My heartbeat slams against my ribs.Next to my name: A timestamp. A location. A red warning.PRESENT AT CLASS
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 15
I had seen death before. Felt its breath on my neck. But nothing compared to the cold terror that ran down my spine as Riley’s screen flickered, glitched, and then displayed a single message in bold, chilling letters:“You should have stayed hidden, Nathan.”My chest tightened.Riley froze, her fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard. The hum of her computer, usually steady, now felt like a warning. The color drained from her face."Shit," she whispered. "They found us."A second later, the power cut out. Darkness swallowed the room, except for the faint red glow of the emergency battery. I reached for my gun. Every muscle in my body locked up, wired tight.Then—Glass shattered.A high-pitched whine filled my ears as a bullet tore through Riley’s monitor, sending sparks and shards flying. We hit the ground, my arm wrapping around her instinctively as more shots thundered through the air. The sharp scent of
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 16
The moment Riley disappeared into the night, I forced my mind into lockdown.No distractions. No hesitation.Just survival.The Oath was closing in, and I knew they wouldn’t stop at foot soldiers. They wanted me erased. And now, James—**someone I thought was dead—**was standing in front of me, gun raised."You’re dead," I said, gripping my own weapon tighter.James smirked. "Not quite. But you might be soon."I didn’t wait for him to pull the trigger.Move.I dove sideways as his first shot cracked through the air. The bullet tore into the asphalt where my head had been a second ago. I hit the ground rolling and fired twice—but he was already gone.Melted into the shadows.Typical James—fast, precise, always one step ahead.I stayed low, scanning for movement.Where are you?A faint scuff of a boot—behind me.I twisted—just in time to block the knife swinging
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 17
The engine roared beneath me as I tore through the city streets, headlights slicing through the dark. Riley had gone north—I was heading south.We needed distance. And a plan.I gritted my teeth, my pulse hammering. The Oath wasn’t going to let us walk away from this. They’d keep coming.Unless I stopped them first.My earpiece crackled. "Nathan, I made it to the fallback point," Riley’s voice came, tense but steady."Good. Stay put. I’m going to buy you time.""You mean you’re going to do something reckless.""Same thing."Silence. Then, "Just don’t get yourself killed."No promises.I cut the lights on the SUV and veered off the main road, tires skidding across cracked asphalt. The industrial district—perfect. Empty buildings. Limited exits. A damn good place for an ambush.I needed them to follow.I reached under my jacket, pulled out my burner phone, and sent a single text
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The motel room smelled like stale coffee and bad decisions. Riley sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop balanced on her knees, fingers flying over the keyboard. The glow of the screen illuminated her face—sharp, focused, determined.I stood by the window, watching the empty parking lot, gun resting on the nightstand beside me. My ribs ached from earlier, but pain was the least of my concerns.We weren’t safe.Not yet."Tell me you have something," I muttered, turning to her.Riley didn’t answer right away. Her eyes darted across the screen, her brow furrowing deeper with each passing second.Then she whispered, "No. No way."Something about her tone made my stomach tighten. "What is it?"She exhaled sharply, rubbing her forehead before looking up at me. Her expression was unreadable—shock, anger, maybe even fear."Nathan… you need to sit down."I didn’t. I couldn’t."Talk."
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The Last ThoughtI stare at my reflection, my breath uneven, my eyes hollow. The glass is cracked—thin fractures running like veins across the surface, distorting my face. Fitting.The overhead light flickers, casting brief shadows across the room. It’s cold. Not the kind of cold that bites at your skin, but the kind that settles in your bones, that tells you something is coming. The kind that makes you wonder if it’s always been there, waiting.I press my palms against the sink, fingers curling against the porcelain. The weight in my chest isn’t fear. It isn’t regret. It’s something worse. A question with no answer.Behind me, the door creaks open. A slow, deliberate sound. My hand moves instinctively to my gun, but I already know who it is."That the last time you’re gonna check yourself out, Nathan?" a voice teases, rough with amusement.I smirk, though it feels foreign on my face. "Figured I should see what’s left of me before I walk out that door."Jackson leans against the doorf
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The Final MoveThe city is waiting.It doesn't know it yet, but the tides are shifting. Power doesn’t disappear; it transforms and morphs into something new, something unrecognizable until it’s already taken hold. I’ve seen it happen too many times to count. This time, I’m the one pulling the strings.This time, it ends on my terms.I stand in the shadows of an empty warehouse, the scent of oil and dust thick in the air. The city hums outside, its lights flickering through the gaps in the rusted metal walls. Jackson stands beside me, his body tense, arms crossed. He’s waiting for me to explain, to tell him what comes next.I let the silence stretch before I finally speak.“We’re not burning it down.”Jackson’s head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing. “What?”I meet his stare, my voice steady. “We’re not wiping the board clean. We’re flipping it.”For the first time in a long time, Jackson looks unsure. He shifts his weight, jaw tightening as he processes my words. “You said yourself—this
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The Last Time He Sees RileyThe air is colder than I expected. Maybe that’s fitting. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.She’s already there when I arrive, standing near the edge of the pier, arms folded tight against the wind. The city sprawls behind her, all light and noise, but out here, it’s just the quiet lapping of the water and the space between us.Riley doesn’t turn when I approach.“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, her voice carrying over the water, calm but unreadable.I stop a few feet away. Close enough to feel the weight of her presence. Far enough to know I shouldn’t get any closer.“Neither was I,” I admit.She exhales a slow, steady breath. “You look the same.”“So do you.”A lie.There’s something different in her now. Something more guarded, more distant. Like she’s finally built the walls she should’ve had when we were younger.Like she’s learned.She turns, finally meeting my gaze, and for a moment, it’s just us. No past, no future. Just this one sliver of t
CHAPTER 215
The Fall of KingsThe thing about power is that it never learns.It moves through different hands, dresses itself in new suits, and speaks in fresh voices. But underneath, it’s always the same: greed, arrogance, and the inevitable mistake of thinking you can control what was never meant to be tamed.Ronan believed he could do it differently.I watch from the shadows as he proves himself wrong.---The city is quieter these days. Not because the storm has passed, but because it’s waiting to break.I see it in the way people move, the way deals are whispered instead of spoken. Ronan’s reign is still fresh, but already, the cracks are showing.And he doesn’t even realize it.Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s just too proud to admit it.I’m standing outside a high-rise downtown, watching from across the street. Up there, behind floor-to-ceiling windows, Ronan is playing king. A meeting’s in progress—his men, his allies, his problems.He thinks he has time. He thinks he’s in control.He doesn’t
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The Last WarningThe city breathes differently when men like Ronan step into power.It’s a slow shift, subtle. The same streets, the same lights flickering over cracked pavement, the same late-night murmurs of business and betrayal. But there’s a tension now, a new weight pressing down like the first signs of a storm.I know it because I’ve felt it before. I did it before.Which is why I know exactly how this ends.---I picked the place. Neutral ground. A quiet, high-end bar tucked away in the heart of the city, the kind where power plays out in whispered deals and expensive whiskey. A place where men like Ronan feel at home.I sit in a booth at the far end, back to the wall, watching the entrance. He’s late. Not long enough to be disrespectful, just enough to establish control. Classic move.When he finally steps inside, he moves like he owns the place.Not in the way Cormac did, with brute force and intimidation. No, Ronan is more refined. His presence doesn’t demand attention—it i
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CHAPTER 212
The War That Never EndsThe Oath had fallen, but the world didn’t change. Not really.Power is a living thing—it doesn’t disappear; it mutates. It slithers, molds itself into new hands, new faces, new kings and queens who claim they’ll do better. I watch from the shadows as history repeats itself, over and over, like a bad song stuck on a loop.I blend into the dimly lit alleyway, my coat pulled tight against the cold bite of the city. Rain drips from the rusted gutters, forming puddles at my feet, but I barely notice. Across the street, men shake hands under the glow of a flickering street lamp, sealing deals in the same way their predecessors did—with quiet, well-dressed ruthlessness. Different players, same game.I should walk away.I promised myself I would.But ghosts don’t rest easy, and the ones I carry are especially loud.A gust of wind blows through the alley, ruffling my hair as I step back into the shadows. My ribs still ache from my last fight, and my knuckles are a canva
