OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: OF INTRUDERS, MARIONETTES, AND THE ICE PRESIDENT'S BLISSFUL

Xythe slid into position beside me, Hecate in hand, gleaming faintly under the moonlight. His presence was a calm anchor against the storm. His ocean-blue eyes scanned every shadow, every corner. Typical Xythe—cold, precise, annoyingly perfect.

"Stay sharp. They'll go for him first," he said, voice low, even, like we were rehearsing some deadly dance.

"I know," I muttered, forcing my lungs to steady.

Static flared again in my ear. Tofer's voice—flat, precise. "Crownspine breach confirmed. Two intruders inside. Alexie engaging. I'm cutting the surveillance grid."

Then Saichel: "East quadrant clash. Three targets. Definitely Halcyon Pact formation. Thres is—oh, damn—a wall. You should see this guy. I'm keeping them busy. You're welcome."

The four intruders moved like shadows, but not quite human. Their steps made no sound, yet the marble beneath them seemed to tense as if aware of their weight. Every movement was deliberate, unnervingly precise, like they had rehearsed this building in their minds before even stepping foot inside.

"They're fast," I muttered, gripping Artemis. Sparks of arc-energy hummed along the twin blades. Ready. Silent. Lethal. "East side, moving to main doors."

"Copy," Xythe said, appearing beside me before I could blink. Hecate pulse-humming in hand, revolver ready, Optical Dagger holstered but poised. Calm. Precise. Irritatingly perfect. "Keep cover. Wait for my mark. Don't engage recklessly."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. The goal was simple: protect KD without alerting him or anyone else in the school. No screams, no chaos, no distraction—because if he walked out of that office now, I'd drag him back inside by the tie. The Ice President didn't need to see what kind of monsters were clawing at his marble castle. Not tonight.

The first intruder lunged—too rigid, too precise. Up close, I noticed it: no sweat, no heat in his breath, not even the subtle tremor of a living heartbeat. Motion, mechanical and cold, like muscle following a script. His head snapped forward a split-second before his body followed.

I rolled, Artemis humming arcs of crimson energy along the twin blades. A flick of the serrated edge, a shove into shadow, and he collapsed soundlessly. Surgical.

"Target neutralized," I whispered, smirking behind my mask.

The second intruder twisted, anticipating Xythe's interception. But Hecate responded like an extension of Xythe's body. A bullet ricocheted off the marble, striking a pressure point and freezing him mid-lunge. Alive, but incapacitated. Efficiency: 100%. Annoyance: 0%.

The last two intruders moved in perfect synchronization. Step for step, turn for turn—mirrored so precisely it was almost hypnotic. Their breathing fogged in the courtyard's chill, rising and falling as one, twin clouds exhaled in unison. Even their pupils contracted at the same instant. Shadows warped unnaturally around them, bending light like the courtyard itself obeyed them.

"They're nearly at the entrance," I hissed.

Xythe gave a subtle nod. Go.

I surged forward, twin blades crackling, arcs of energy dancing along the curved fangs. The first mirrored intruder lunged—predictable. Sidestep, spin, slash across the wrist, shove into shadow. The second lunged, mirrored perfectly—but faster than I expected. Sparks snapped as the blade grazed my sleeve. I hissed, spinning harder than planned, slicing his wrist before shoving him back into darkness. Too close. Too damn close.

Xythe pivoted, Hecate firing ricochets that pinned one intruder mid-lunge, Optical Dagger bending light to strike unseen. Each move was a calculation. Hecate controlled the space, Xythe's dagger cut unseen openings, and together they rewrote the battlefield in milliseconds—smooth, efficient, terrifying.

Even in the silence, I could feel them. Sharp, methodical awareness radiating from their bodies, like a single mind controlling many. Every flick of Artemis drew attention, every serrated edge a whisper of lethal intent. Internal shockwaves from each strike rattled their senses, disorienting them without a sound.

Xythe's gaze flicked toward the far side of the courtyard. "Two more. Incoming."

"Seriously? They brought spares? Guess someone doesn't trust their A-team." I said and rolled my eyes.

The newcomers didn't lunge immediately. They tilted their heads in the same eerie angle, like birds listening for a command only they could hear. Their shadows stretched thin across the marble, bending toward the Imperial Wing—as if drawn to KD himself.

Xythe flowed beside me, Optical Dagger bending light to strike from blind angles, while Hecate spat ricocheted rounds that shattered their formation. I surged forward again, twin blades humming and vibrating in rhythm with my heartbeat, weaving through shadows. Sidestep, slash, shove—shockwaves radiating outward with each strike, throwing the enemies off balance before they could even react. Puppets faltering under the precision of my assault, human remnants barely flickering beneath the strings.

The last intruder hit the marble hard, body crumpling into silence. For a moment, the courtyard was still again—too still.

I steadied my breathing, blades humming softly in the quiet. "That's all of them," I whispered, though my gut twisted like I already knew it wasn't true.

Xythe crouched, checking the nearest body. His eyes narrowed, expression unreadable.

The "unconscious" operative twitched—not like someone waking, but like strings jerked by invisible hands. His arm snapped into a rigid half-salute, bones creaking wrong, head twisting too far until a sharp crack echoed in the marble. Legs spasmed once in perfect rhythm—then silence. No breath. No life. Just a puppet discarded mid-dance.

For a split second, Xythe's ocean eyes flickered—not cold calculation, but something raw. Anger? Fear? It vanished before I could catch it.

My stomach turned. "What the hell was that?"

Xythe's lips thinned. "Conditioned. Controlled." His voice stayed calm, but his knuckles were white around Hecate's hilt. "These aren't intruders. They're... programmed."

The courtyard trembled faintly underfoot, as if the marble itself braced for another strike. A shadow stretched too far across the wall, bending in a direction the moonlight couldn't explain—then the comms hissed alive.

Static hissed in my ear—Saichel's voice, a little too light to hide the tension beneath: "East is still clear. But Tofer's reading movement—fresh contacts. Smaller group. West side perimeter. Ari... looks like round two."

I pressed myself tighter against the wall. Another wave was coming. And inside, KD was probably sipping coffee, silently judging whoever dared stack his documents a millimeter off-center. The Ice President, blissfully unaware his marble kingdom was under siege by marionette freaks.

I flicked my blades clean. Sparks danced faintly, the air thick with tension. "Fine. Let's finish this before he ever knows."

Xythe gave the barest nod. Cold, certain. Agreed.

I swore under my breath, pressing closer to shadow, heart hammering. Round two. The Halcyon Pact wasn't done. If they thought their marionettes could dance in KD's palace, they were about to learn who cut the strings.