Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)-Chapter 349 - 343: Four Hours

Gabriel settled into the chair beside the low desk in their shared chambers, the lights dimmed to a soft gold, quiet enough not to disturb Damian, who still lay asleep on the bed, one arm stretched toward the space Gabriel had just vacated. The room smelled faintly of the herbs from the bath and something else, softer now, the echo of heat and poison, dulled by time and sedative.

Nobles and aides who never set foot in a technical field liked to forget what he was capable of. Gabriel wasn’t just trained in ether engineering—he was the one who wrote the protocols half of them still fumbled through. He knew the network’s current like it was breath, and he could trace signatures and shadow patterns better than the experts they paid six figures to hire.

The screen in front of him flickered to life with a low hum as he tapped through the access protocols, his fingers dancing in swift, deliberate motions across the controls. Code shifted like silk beneath his touch, windows opening and collapsing in rapid succession as he bypassed the usual security delays with embedded commands of his own design, ones no one else even knew existed.

Behind him, Damian stirred faintly, his breath catching for a moment before evening out again. Gabriel didn’t look away from the stream of ether data now unfolding on the display.

There it was. A fluctuation too smooth, too contained. No artificial node should’ve bent that way under pressure. Gabriel zoomed in, hands steady, posture relaxed in a way that only made his precision more terrifying. Most people couldn’t detect the personal ether trace of a living being without invasive equipment or direct contact—too subtle, too complex, too blurred by time and intent.

But Gabriel wasn’t most people.

He isolated the signature, faint, slippery, like someone trying to mimic cleanliness while hiding rot underneath. Rosaline. She had passed through a restricted corridor three nights ago but left no keycard trace. No surveillance tag. Just ether—hers. Sloppy. And damning.

The door opened behind him with the softest click, and Edward stepped inside, a silver tray in hand and concern folded neatly beneath his usual composure.

"I brought the latte, sir," he said quietly, placing the cup down beside Gabriel. "And a blanket. You’ll ignore both, but I would rather not be scolded for neglect in the morning."

Gabriel didn’t glance away from the screen. "That depends on whether morning comes with another assassination attempt."

Edward moved to the second chair and sat down without asking. He’d been at Gabriel’s side long enough to know when silence was the only acceptable company.

Outside, the rain had stopped. The palace slept. But inside, Gabriel’s patience had finally burned to ash.

He had been merciful with his family.

Patient with the court.

Even diplomatic with the nobles who whispered behind his back.

But all of that ended the moment they touched the only one who had ever been untouchable.

And now?

Now they would learn exactly what kind of monster Dominie had once been. And what kind of fury it took to build an empire from war and blood and find the right man to keep it standing.

—

Damian woke to the sound of fingers tapping, slow and rhythmic, like a clock counting down someone else’s doom.

The ceiling above him was familiar, but it took a second longer than usual to focus, his breath catching as the dull nausea of the antidote made his mouth taste like metal and ash. He inhaled through his nose, slow and steady, and turned his head.

Gabriel sat exactly where he had been hours ago, one leg folded under him, the other anchored to the floor, body angled toward the ether console now stationed at the low desk. The soft glow from the screen etched pale shadows across his face, sharp and untouched by sleep.

Damian shifted. His arm reached instinctively toward Gabriel, finding only the cool press of sheets.

"...How long?" Damian asked, his voice rough, cracked at the edges.

Gabriel didn’t look away. "Four hours and thirteen minutes. You flinched once during the third hour. Marin would say that means you’re healing."

Damian hummed, then tried to rise but gave up halfway through, now staying upright with his back on the bed rest.

Gabriel still didn’t look at him. "Don’t try it. Your ether channels are stable but strained, and if you pass out again, Marin will sedate you for real this time. He left the vial on the desk and told me not to hesitate."

"I’m barely upright; I’m only going to terrorize you verbally. So, what is my pregnant wife doing instead of sleeping?"

Gabriel didn’t blink. Didn’t even pretend to indulge the tone.

"Tracking your would-be murderer," he said, as if reciting an agenda point. "And verifying just how many internal systems Rosaline accessed before she disappeared. The list keeps getting longer. Which means either she had help, or we’ve been too generous with our firewalls."

Damian let his head fall back against the bedrest with a groan that sounded more like smoke than breath. "So you’ve accepted you’re my wife now. Convenient timing."

"Damian."

"Yes, my dearest?"

"I know how to administer a sedative without getting anywhere near you."

"And I know how to dodge, even on my deathbed. Try again."

Gabriel’s lips twitched, but the expression never fully formed. His fingers didn’t stop moving. "Hadeon fled."

Damian stilled, the faintest flicker of tension drawing across his brow.

"Where?" he asked, his voice quiet, too quiet.

Gabriel’s gaze remained on the stream of signatures flooding the ether map, symbols shifting in fluid formation, trailing off at the border like water poured into sand.

"Donin Republica. He crossed over two hours ago. No gate data, no ether logs. The region has no network—intentionally. It’s a blind zone." His tone was calm but clipped at the edges, like glass under pressure.

Damian exhaled slowly through his nose. "Coward."

"He knew the Empire would trace him. He went where ether couldn’t follow." Gabriel adjusted one of the filters on the screen and zoomed in on the last recorded pulse, a faint static flare that matched Hadeon’s known interference signature. "But he made a mistake."

Damian arched an eyebrow. "You found something?"

Gabriel tapped twice, isolating the thread. "He didn’t erase Rosaline’s trail. Her signature lingered a second too long. Long enough for me to tag it."

There was a beat of silence between them. Then Damian’s voice, rough with something deeper than pain: "You’re terrifying."

Gabriel didn’t deny it. Just finally looked up, meeting his eyes with a cold glint of precision. "Only when they touch what’s mine."

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fre𝒆webnove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺