OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: OF MEMORY VAULTS, CURFEWED LOVE, AND THE BOY WHO WAS NEVER

I closed my eyes. Not to rest. Just to block the world out. But all I saw was him—KD. No, not KD. Not just Khaizer.

Lucem. Their golden prototype. The boy I loved. The weapon they tried to polish with lullabies.

I closed my eyes.

"Kind killers. Children whose obedience wasn't driven by fear or programming—but by emotional alignment."

"Khaizer was their crown jewel. Codename: Lucem—the Light. Their golden prototype. He showed the deepest capacity for empathy. They thought they could weaponize it."

"Instead of suppressing emotion, Seraph protocols amplified it—compassion, attachment, loyalty—but tethered to the Pact's control cues. Love became a leash."

I bit my lower lip. Hard. The taste of copper settled on my tongue. I didn't stop. It gave me something else to feel.

How do you even begin to process that? That someone you love was raised in a lab of tenderness designed for control? That every bedtime story was really a trigger... Every hug is a code?

It makes you question everything. Not about him. About the world.

"Khaizer wasn't beaten into compliance. He was nurtured into it. They used affection—gentle voices, lullabies, stories—as behavioral reinforcers. Every hug had a command underneath. Every bedtime story, a trigger. He was taught to obey through love."

And yet he still chose to be kind. Not because of them. But despite them. That's what undoes me most. That somehow, in all the artificial affection and scripted warmth, he still found something real inside himself. Something uncorrupted.

Something human.

"And effective," Dad said grimly. "At first. They even built in something called neural mirroring. He was conditioned to emotionally sync with a chosen 'anchor.' That anchor was his mother."

"Hyacinth."

"She was part of the Pact's emotional architecture division. She thought she was protecting him by staying close. But when she tried to leave—when she realized what they'd done—Khaizer's bond to her nearly unraveled everything."

"He started choosing. He didn't just obey because he felt—it stopped being conditioning. It became conviction. He questioned orders. Refused punishments. He didn't just feel kindness—he decided who deserved it."

"He was becoming human."

I gripped the hem of my sleeve and twisted it until my knuckles ached.

"And that is why they want him dead. Because the most dangerous thing the Halcyon Pact ever created... broke free."

"Lucem's emotional deviation renders him unpredictable. Immediate termination is advised. The prototype has become a liability."

"He was supposed to feel only what they allowed. But he felt more. He chose more. And that choice? It made him a threat to everything they built."

My fingers curled tighter. I couldn't cry. Not here. Not in front of them. I didn't want pity. Or worse—confirmation that I was right to be scared.

But I was scared. So scared. Scared that one day, I'd wake up and he'd be gone. Not by choice. Not by distance. But by force.

Beside me, Xythe shifted. I didn't even notice I'd been trembling until his hand slipped into mine. Warm. Solid. Unspoken understanding.

"You're scared." He said. "I saw pale blue flickers racing into deep midnight navy."

Of course. He saw it—through his fracture lens. And Saichel's been glancing to me too. His pulse chain flaring up probably. My bracelet is still at Xythe's. He hasn't return it to me yet. And I don't think I can wear it right now without alarming KD. I don't think I can control my emotions right now.

"The Ardent Court is here, Ari," he said quietly. "We will protect him."

I looked down at our joined hands.

Then Lyle, calm and composed in the passenger seat, spoke without turning around.

"We're not gonna let them kill the Frost Monarch."

I didn't say anything.

Just nodded.

His voice carried the chill of something already underway. Like plans locked in ice, waiting to thaw.

But inside, something pulled tighter.

By the time we reached Supreme Allievo Academy, the surroundings were dim. The curfew guards didn't question us. Of course they didn't. Headmaster Antonio must've given a clearance for us, as cover up.

We walked in silence until we reached Eclipsa Sanctum.

When I opened the door to my dorm—

He was there.

KD.

He must've used the rooftop again.

Lying sideways on my bed, one arm tucked under his head, legs slightly dangling over the edge like he meant to wait up and never quite made it. His hair was slightly tousled. His chest rose and fell, calm and unbothered.

I just stared for a second. He looked like peace. But I knew better now. I stepped inside quietly, changed into something soft, and climbed up beside him. The pillow that usually divided us was still in place.

I picked it up. Tossed it to the floor. Then slid under the blanket. And without hesitation, wrapped my arms around him.

He stirred. "Mmph. You're past curfew..."

"The guards let us in," I mumbled, face buried in his chest.

His arm shifted. Wrapped around me loosely like it had a hundred times before—but now it felt different.

"I was asleep," he murmured. "You woke me."

He doesn't know I'm holding what's left of him like it's the only thing I still believe in.

"Go back to sleep then."

A chuckle. Sleepy. Familiar.

"I don't know what warzone you went to tonight..." His arm tightened slightly around me. "...but I like the idea that my girlfriend hugs me to sleep."

I didn't answer. I just hugged him tighter. Quietly. Steady.

And whispered into the space between his heart and mine:

"I love you a lot, KD. I won't let them hurt you."

He didn't say anything.

Just kept breathing softly beside me.

Maybe he was already asleep again.

Maybe he thought I was, too.

But either way—

I meant it.