The horns of war split the night.
From the highest tower of Duskveil, Selene stood cloaked in black flame, her silver eyes glowing against the storm. Below her, the courtyard thundered with the march of steel and the chant of the Nightwatch. War banners whipped in the wind—her sigil blazing like fire against shadow: a crescent of silver entwined with a burning crown.
The message from their spies had arrived moments ago: Malrik has awakened the Binding Forge.
She had felt it even before the hawk's talons touched the sill—a surge of darkness crawling beneath her skin, clawing at her bond with the world. The earth itself had groaned as if mourning what was born in that chasm.
Rael was no longer just a boy. He was something else now. Something worse.
And she was already too late to stop it.
But she would try anyway.
Behind her, the doors burst open. Kieran strode in, clad in armor black as midnight, etched with golden sigils that shimmered like molten suns. His hair was damp from the storm, his jaw hard with resolve, and his eyes… gods, those eyes burned like wrath incarnate.
"They're moving east," he said, throwing a bloodstained report onto the table. "The Hollow Flame is headed for the Shattered Plains. If they break through there, Vaeloras will fall in a day."
Selene's grip tightened on the hilt of her mother's dagger. "We ride tonight."
Kieran stepped closer, his voice low but seething. "No more talk of rituals. No more waiting. We end this, Selene. We kill Malrik, and if your son stands between us—"
"Don't." Her voice cracked like a whip, sharp and raw. "Don't you finish that sentence."
Kieran's jaw clenched. He wasn't a man who hesitated, but this war wasn't steel and strategy—it was blood and heart, and they both knew it.
Finally, he exhaled slowly. "Then tell me what you'll do if he tries to kill you."
Selene looked him dead in the eyes. "I'll remind him who he is. Even if it kills me."
Before Kieran could argue, Eryndor appeared, his face pale as bone. "The Hollow Flame has already struck."
Selene's pulse spiked. "Where?"
"The city of Veyndral. It's ash."
The war chamber fell silent, the weight of those words crushing the air. Veyndral wasn't just any city—it was a stronghold of ancient archives and the last gateway to the Chasm.
Selene's mind reeled. Malrik wasn't wasting time. He was carving a path straight to her throne—and leaving her a trail of fire and death as a message.
She turned to her generals. "Ready the Drakon riders. Seal the eastern gates. Move the civilians to the caverns. No one rests until the Hollow Flame is broken."
The commanders saluted and left, the thunder of boots echoing through the hall.
When they were alone, Kieran caught her wrist, spinning her toward him. His voice was raw steel. "I swore I wouldn't lose you again. So if you think I'm letting you face him alone, break that thought now."
Selene searched his eyes, her breath trembling. "And if he kills you, Kieran? If I lose you—"
"You won't," he cut in, pressing his forehead to hers. "Because if he wants you, he'll have to go through me. And gods help him when he tries."
Their lips met in a kiss that tasted of fire and finality, a promise forged in the shadow of war. When they broke apart, the storm outside had grown savage—as if the skies themselves sensed the blood about to be spilled.
Selene turned toward the balcony, flames dancing at her fingertips. "Then let's ride."
As they descended into the courtyard, the army roared, the night alive with the clamor of steel and the screech of Drakon wings. Selene mounted her beast, obsidian scales gleaming under lightning, while Kieran swung into the saddle of his own war-drake, its golden eyes mirroring his fury.
The gates of Duskveil opened with a groan that shook the mountains. Beyond them stretched the road to ruin—the path to the Blackstone Chasm, where a son waited bound by oath and a monster waited to unmake kingdoms.
Selene's whisper vanished into the wind as the first Drakons leapt into the storm:
"Hold on, Rael. I'm coming for you."
And in the distance, across fields of shadow and flame, a boy-turned-god opened his eyes and smiled.
Because he already knew.