Marvel: Silver Hand

Alexander sat on the couch, waiting. The soft hum of the city below barely reached the penthouse floor, muffled by thick glass windows that overlooked London. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers lightly drumming against the fabric of his suit pants. The anticipation was suffocating.

And then, the elevator chimed.

The doors slid open, and Emma Frost stepped into the room.

She had changed so much since the last time he saw her. Gone was the teenage girl he had once known, the one with long brown hair and that shy but confident glint in her eyes. The woman before him was sharper, more refined. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she carried herself with the effortless grace of someone who knew exactly how much power she held over others. Dressed in an elegant white dress that clung to her curves, she was mesmerizing.

And yet, beneath the layers of cold confidence, Alexander could still see traces of the Emma he once knew.

Her striking blue eyes landed on him, and for the briefest moment, something flickered across her face—shock? Recognition? Guilt?

Then, her expression hardened. "You."

Alexander rose to his feet. "Me."

Silence stretched between them like a blade.

Emma took slow, deliberate steps into the room, heels clicking softly against the marble floor. "How?"

He knew exactly what she meant, but he wasn't about to make this easy for her.

"How what?"

Emma narrowed her eyes. "How are you alive?"

Alexander folded his arms. "I could ask you the same thing. You erased every trace of yourself from my mind. You made me forget you ever existed. Why?"

Her jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

"Tell me, Emma," he pressed. "Why did you do it?"

Emma didn't answer. Instead, her eyes turned glassy, distant. Alexander immediately felt something pressing against his mind—a soft, invisible force trying to slip in, to probe, to unravel him.

A telepathic intrusion.

But the ring on his finger flared to life.

A cold, consuming wave of power surged outward, intercepting her psychic attack and retaliating with its own force.

Emma's eyes widened as she stumbled back, gasping. A flood of visions hit her—her own greatest fears and regrets crashing into her like a tidal wave. Her father's disappointed gaze. The twisted, sneering faces of her siblings. The memory of running away. The look on Alexander's face before she erased herself from his life.

She collapsed to her knees, clutching her head. "No—no—stop—!"

Alexander took a step toward her, hesitating. He hadn't meant to hurt her, only to protect himself.

Emma gritted her teeth, summoning her willpower, and with a deep breath, she severed the link. The visions vanished, and she staggered to her feet, panting. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she quickly masked it with a roll of her shoulders.

She glanced at him warily. "What... was that?"

Alexander didn't answer. He reached out a hand to help her up, but she slapped it away.

"Don't touch me," she snapped.

"Fine," he said calmly. "Just trying to be polite."

She exhaled sharply, then turned her back to him, walking toward the bar in the corner of the room. "What do you want, Alexander?"

His expression darkened. "Revenge."

Emma paused, fingers resting on the neck of a wine bottle. "...Revenge?"

"Ryan and Vanessa. They killed my mother. My baby sister. My aunt." His voice was steady, but beneath it was a storm of rage barely being contained. "And I know you remember my aunt, Emma. She took care of you when you had no one. My mother treated you like family. And yet, you erased yourself from our lives like none of it ever happened."

Emma was silent.

She poured two glasses of wine, her movements controlled, measured. Then, she turned and held out a glass toward him.

He didn't take it immediately. Celebrimbor's voice echoed in his mind.

"Watch her closely. Make sure she doesn't try anything."

He waited, watching carefully as Emma took a sip from her own glass. Satisfied, he accepted the drink and sat back down.

Emma leaned against the bar, swirling the wine in her glass. "I didn't know," she admitted softly. "When I heard that you and your family were dead, I..." She hesitated, gripping the glass a little tighter. "I wept for you. For days."

Alexander took a slow sip of his wine. "And yet, you never came back."

She let out a humorless chuckle. "Would you have?"

He said nothing.

Emma studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Alright. You want revenge on Ryan? Lucky for you, so do I."

That got his attention. "What?"

She smirked. "The Hellfire Club wants him gone. He's a problem. I was sent to kill him."

Alexander frowned. "The Hellfire Club?"

"You don't need to know about them," she said dismissively.

He clenched his jaw but let it go for now. "So what's your plan?"

Emma took another sip before answering. "After the meeting tomorrow, I planned to seduce him, bring him back here, and kill him once he was vulnerable."

Alexander immediately scowled. "No."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"I'm not letting you seduce anyone," he said firmly.

A slow, amused smile spread across her lips. "Oh? And why is that?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn't know what to say.

Emma leaned forward slightly, a playful glint in her eye. "Are you jealous, Alex?"

He tensed at the way she said his name, the way it rolled off her tongue so effortlessly, like she had never been gone.

He scowled. "I just don't think it's necessary."

Emma chuckled, shaking her head. "Relax. You don't get to tell me what to do."

Alexander exhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down. "Then we do this another way. You bring him here, and I kill him myself."

Emma considered this, then slowly nodded. "Fine."

Alexander sat back. "Good."

A beat of silence passed. Then, Emma glanced at him curiously. "So tell me, how did you escape Ryan? And where did you get these new powers?"

Alexander stiffened.

"Lie," Celebrimbor whispered in his mind. "She cannot be trusted yet. Tell her nothing of me, nothing of the ring, and nothing of your divine power."

Alexander hesitated, then nodded subtly. "When Ryan killed me... I don't know what happened. Someone saved me. I woke up with these abilities, but my savior was gone before I ever saw them."

Emma narrowed her eyes slightly. "A mutant ability awakening, then?"

Alexander nodded. "Guess so."

She seemed to consider this before nodding in acceptance. "Makes sense. A lot of mutant abilities manifest under extreme trauma."

He felt a pang of guilt for lying to her, but Celebrimbor was right—he couldn't trust her fully. Not yet.

Emma took another sip of wine. "And what exactly can you do?"

Alexander thought quickly. "I have this... blue energy inside me. It strengthens me, gives me speed, and protects my mind."

Emma hummed, intrigued. "That would explain why I couldn't read you."

"Yeah," Alexander said.

Silence settled between them again. Finally, he asked, "Why did you run away?"

Emma's expression darkened slightly. "Because my father was a monster."

Alexander didn't interrupt, letting her speak.

"He wanted me to take over Frost International. But I didn't want to. I wanted to be a teacher. Like your aunt." Her voice grew quieter. "And then Clara said that all mutants should not exist. That was the breaking point."

Alexander exhaled through his nose. He had been there when Clara said it. He had felt the weight of those words too.

Still, he asked, "Then why did you erase my memories of you?"

Emma sighed. "Because I knew I was leaving. And I didn't want you to be sad when I was gone."

He frowned. "And the kiss?"

For the first time, Emma looked almost uncomfortable. "Back then... I liked you."

His heartbeat quickened. "And now?"

She met his gaze. "Now? I don't know you anymore."

Alexander clenched his jaw, masking his disappointment.

Celebrimbor chuckled in his mind. "You look heartbroken."

He ignored him.

Emma set her empty glass down. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, we kill Ryan."

Alexander nodded and laid back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

Tomorrow, he will have his vengeance.