Aug 2 • Dark Romance & Paranormal
ECHOES IN THE GEARS
Prologue
Thistlecroft, Years Ago
The storm hadn’t broken yet, but the air was thick with something waiting. In the back of the clock shop, Eleanor worked with meticulous care. Her fingers moved over the aged brass and obsidian gears of the Eclipsed Heart like a pianist returning to a long-forbidden song. Every piece she aligned sent a faint vibration through the bench. It was subtle nothing most would notice. But Benedict Thorne wasn’t most.
“You said you wouldn’t touch it again.”
His voice came from the doorway, flat but heavy with something far sharper than anger: fear.
Eleanor didn’t look up. “I said I wouldn’t rush it.”
“It shouldn’t be touched at all.” He stepped closer. “You know what it did the last time. You know what he is.”
Her jaw tightened. “He’s not what they made him out to be.”
“He’s exactly what they used him for,” Benedict snapped. “And the Heart Eleanor, the Heart isn’t some puzzle box. It’s a gate. A beacon. If you bring it back together”
“I’m not trying to open it,” she said, finally looking at him. Her eyes were tired. Determined. “I’m trying to understand it.”
“And what happens when it understands you?” His voice cracked. “What happens when it remembers what it’s meant to do?”
“It’s already remembering,” she said quietly. “And pretending it doesn’t exist won’t change that.”
Benedict ran a hand over his face, streaked with clock oil and worry. “We buried those designs for a reason. We swore—”
“We swore to protect people,” Eleanor interrupted. “That includes Lila. And if I’m right—”
“You don’t know that,” he hissed.
A bell chimed from the front of the shop.
They both froze.
A small voice floated in from the showroom: “Grandma? Grandpa?”
Eleanor stood quickly, smoothing her apron. “They’re early.”
“Then we lock it away,” Benedict said, already reaching for the cloth.
He swept the partially restored Heart into a lacquered case, fastened the latch, and slipped it into the false drawer behind the tool cabinet. Eleanor said nothing, but her fingers lingered on the table a moment too long.
By the time Lila ran into the back room dark curls bouncing, boots soaked through from the rain they were all smiles. Her parents followed close behind, Finley trailing with a book under one arm and an annoyed huff as he’d rather be out with friends.
Lila crashed into Eleanor’s arms with all the strength of a child who hadn’t seen her grandmother in too long. “Did you miss me?”
“Always,” Eleanor whispered, kissing the top of her head.
Benedict stood back, quiet. Watching.
It was then that he felt it.
A hum.
Low. Subterranean. Like a thread being pulled tight inside the walls of the shop.
He looked toward the cabinet.
The Eclipsed Heart… was awake.
That night, after dinner and stories and far too many biscuits, the children were asleep upstairs. The house was quiet again, but not empty.
In their bedroom, Eleanor brushed out her hair while Benedict stared at the fire, a book forgotten on his lap.
“She didn’t even touch it,” he said finally. “And it responded.”
Eleanor nodded slowly. “It always would’ve.”
He turned to her, eyes shadowed. “She’s just a girl.”
“She’s more than that,” Eleanor said, setting the brush down. “She always has been. You just didn’t want to see it.”
“She deserves a childhood. A life. Safety.”
“And what if the world you want to keep her safe from is already watching her?” Eleanor’s voice was soft, but firm. “What if hiding her only delays what’s coming?”
Benedict stood and crossed the room, taking her hands in his. “Then we fight it. We protect her. But we don’t lead her to it.”
“I’m not leading her,” she whispered. “I’m lighting the way.” He let her go. Neither of them spoke again that night. But long after Eleanor fell asleep, Benedict sat awake beside the fire, papers spread out before him. Maps. Schematics. Pieces of a truth he hadn’t wanted to see—until now.
Because the Eclipsed Heart wasn’t looking for Eleanor anymore. It was calling to someone else. And her name… was Lila.
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ECHOES IN THE GEARS
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