The General's Daughter: The Mission

Ares pulled her into a private chamber that had once been his study, closing the door behind them.

Lara, did not noticed the smell of earth. What she remembered was the scent of old books and cedar that used to fill the room. Her heart was pounding too hard, her thoughts tangled in a confusion she could no longer unravel.

Ares had brought her there because he did not want prying eyes following them.

For once, they were alone.

Ares turned toward her, his expression softer than she had ever seen it.

”Yes, I did,” he whispered, leaning close enough that his breath warmed her ear. ”For you, my empress.”

Something inside Lara broke.

Perhaps it was the tenderness in his voice.

Perhaps it was the strange, aching familiarity of being in his arms—as though some forgotten part of her had been waiting for him long before she had ever known his name.

Ares froze for the briefest moment, as if he, too, had been struck by the weight of something neither of them could explain.

Then he lowered his head and claimed her lips.

The kiss was hungry.

Passionate.

Desperate.

Not like the first kiss between two people discovering one another, but like a reunion between two souls who had been separated for far too long.

Ares kissed her as though he had spent years searching for her.

As though every lifetime before this one had ended with the same unanswered longing.

And somehow, Lara felt it too.

With every heartbeat, something deep within her stirred—memories that were not quite memories, emotions that belonged to another life, another time.

She did not know why being in his arms felt like coming home.

She only knew that she never wanted him to let her go.

They remained wrapped in each other’s arms for a long while, neither willing to break the spell.

Outside the chamber, the world continued to turn.

But inside, time seemed to disappear.

For that one moment, no duty, no past, and no future.

There was only Alaric.

And Lara.

Two souls finding each other again.

...

But elsewhere on Isla, life continued as it always did.

Far from the ruins of Hevenfort and the secrets unfolding behind its walls, at the southeastern edge of the island, another man stood alone in the quiet of his new home.

The government had allocated approximately one square kilometer of land for military housing, providing accommodations for the officers tasked with keeping Isla safe.

As a five-star general, Leonard Norse had been given one of the coveted General’s Quarters—one of only a handful of detached, three-story, five-bedroom homes built for senior military officers.

The house came complete with a private carport, a modest front yard, and spacious living areas designed for formal receptions, staff meetings, and the occasional gathering of military personnel.

The other officers could only be housed in a medium-rise condominium complex that was still under construction.

Leonard, however, had only recently moved out of his mobile quarters and into the new residence.

He wasn’t sure he liked it.

The house was far too large.

And far too quiet.

Lucas and Layla had already returned to the capital, while his wife, Madeline, had yet to arrive. Without them, the rooms seemed to echo with every footstep, every creak of the floorboards, every passing thought.

That afternoon, Leonard opened the glass door leading to the third-floor balcony and stepped outside.

A cool breeze brushed against his face.

From there, he had an unobstructed view of South Calma Lake, its vast expanse of bluish gray stretching nearly thirty-six kilometers toward Laiya, the town nestled at the foot of Mount Ourea.

It was beautiful and serene.

Almost too beautiful for a place that had been built around military duty.

For several quiet minutes, Leonard simply stood there, allowing himself to forget about reports, deployments, and the endless responsibilities that came with his rank.

Then the peace was shattered by a commotion below.

Voices.

Laughter.

The unmistakable hum of a golf cart approaching the house.

Leonard turned toward the sound.

He hurried downstairs and reached the living room just as two familiar figures climbed out of the golf cart parked in front of the house.

Despite the many improvements made across Isla, transportation remained strictly regulated. To preserve the island’s natural environment, residents were encouraged to use bicycles and electric vehicles, while conventional motorized transportation was heavily restricted.

Leonard stepped onto the front porch.

His expression softened when he recognized the two men.

”Logan. You’re back.”

Logan crossed the room and pulled his father into a bear hug.

Leonard stiffened for a moment before letting out a quiet chuckle and patting his son’s back.

Up close, he could see how much Logan had changed. His hair had grown longer, falling around his face, and a thick beard now covered his jaw. He looked mature somehow—not just in appearance, but in a way that made Leonard wonder what his son had experienced in while he was away.

”Nice home, Dad.” Logan looked around.

”I didn’t know you had already moved here. I went to the old mobile house first. Good thing Liam found me.”

”This house was only turned over last week,” Leonard replied. He glanced around the spacious living room. ”Honestly, I think it’s too big and too quiet.”

Logan gave him an amused look.

”Look at you. You look haggard. Why don’t you freshen up first?”

Leonard gave his second son a stern look, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

”That can wait.”

The lightness in Logan’s expression disappeared.

”Let’s go to the study. There’s something important I need to tell you.”

Leonard studied him for a moment.

He nodded and led his two sons toward the study.

The room occupied one corner of the ground floor, deliberately positioned away from the private quarters upstairs. It was where Leonard handled military matters, received senior officers, and held meetings that were never meant to leave its walls.

Once the three men were inside, Leonard closed the door.

Logan remained standing for a moment before finally speaking.

”Dad... do you remember the officer who took Lara?”

Leonard’s expression hardened.

”How could I forget?”

”He was General Fuegerro’s roommate back in college.”

Leonard frowned.

”I already know that. He was the one who fired the bullet that killed Fuegerro’s wife and child.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying Logan carefully.

”What does that have to do with anything?”

Logan exchanged a quick glance with Liam.

Then he lowered his voice.

”The reason the police could never find him wasn’t because he disappeared without a trace.”

Leonard’s eyes narrowed.

”Then why?”

”Because Artemio took him under his wing.”