OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: OF SHADOWS, GHOST SCALPEL PROMISES,

No concern. No emotion. Just data. A verbal scalpel, slipped between the ribs.

His gaze lifts. Cold. Exact. The kind of look that calculates outcomes before you even breathe. "You moved too fast."

What he means is: You moved wrong.
What he doesn't say is: You moved emotionally.
And in their world? That's a death sentence.

I don't flinch. "I didn't think. Just saw it falling."

Saw it plummeting toward Khaizer. Saw Ari frozen, wide-eyed. Paralyzed.

And I moved. Because someone had to. Because I always do.

Dr. Amara studies me. Doesn't blink. She doesn't need to. She's the one who built the wiring behind reactions like mine.

"You didn't just see it," she says quietly. "You shielded him."

I meet her eyes. Then lower them, just enough. "I didn't do it just for him," I reply. "I did it for her too."

No point pretending otherwise. Not in this room. Not with them.

And that's when her voice shifts. A subtle edge. A tone I've heard in interrogation chambers before the real cutting begins.

"You are the Ardent Court's Tactician, Xythe Nathaniel Alcantara."

I blink once. Then smile—tight, brittle, all teeth. "So you did know me."

Of course they did. They built the blueprint. I'm just the one who ran off-script.

Dr. Caelum responds, voice flat as ever. "We knew the people around our son."

Our son. Two words. Clinical, precise. But they hit like static behind my eardrum. True, but hollow.

I nod slowly. Smile gone. "I knew about you too."

And then I let the silence settle.
Not awkward. Not accidental.

Deliberate. Let it wrap around us like wire.

They're pretending to be people. But I remember what they really are.

What they made.
What they allowed.
What they stopped only when the blood soaked through their gloves.

"I know who you were," I say, voice low, dry, without tremor. "What you did. What you left behind. The Ardent Court knew. Even Ari—his girlfriend—knew who you two were. And what Khaizer Dylan was born into."

I meet Dr. Amara's gaze—steady, unwavering.
"Hyacinth Rivera-Villaflor. Former behavioral neurologist for the Halcyon Pact. Creator of the Seraph Imprint Protocol."

Then I turn to Dr. Caelum.
"Vince Adrian Villaflor. Pioneer of targeted cognitive deconstruction. Codename: The Ghost Scalpel."

I let the names hang in the air like charges waiting to detonate.
Because they should.

"Ari's father helped you craft new identities. Alexie's parents cloaked your existence from the Pact," I add—flat, factual.
Not accusation. Just truth.

They don't deny it.
They don't even flinch.

Because monsters don't apologize.
They just wait.
Wait for you to break like they did.
Wait for you to become them.

Dr. Amara speaks first—her voice softer now, like it'll land gentler that way.
"We're not here to hurt you... or her. Not even Khaizer."

"We're not your enemy," Dr. Caelum adds, clinical as ever.