Crack.
The sound of a whip laced with hexfire echoed in the grand Council chamber.
Seraphine's back arched with the impact—but she did not scream.
She didn't even flinch.
Blood trickled down her spine, crimson staining the pristine marble floor, but her face remained cold, composed. Her fingers trembled—barely—but her jaw clenched with iron resolve.
"Fascinating..." Elder Sylas murmured as he lowered the whip. "The daughter of blood, moon, and flame still chooses to endure?"
Behind him, another Councilor stepped forward, murmuring dark incantations. Runes circled her wrists, glowing with forbidden magic.
"Amplify the orb," she barked. "Force her to awaken. Rip it out of her if we must."
The orb floating above the altar pulsed menacingly—its threads of magic coiling around Seraphine's limbs like serpents, slithering along her veins, whispering temptations into her blood.
Her body shook.
Her vampire instincts snarled. Her Lycan rage clawed for release. Her witch fire begged to burn everything to ash.
But she stood still.
Because the moment she let go—was the moment they won.
She would not give them her power. Not like this.
---
Outside the Barrier
"SERAPHINE!" Carlos bellowed, his fists pounding against the barrier until his knuckles bled. "Damn it—Damn it! She's being tortured and we're just watching like cowards!"
Caveen dropped to his knees, his face a mask of torment. His fangs were out, claws fully shifted, eyes glowing gold. But no matter how hard he tried, the barrier refused to break.
Inside, Seraphine staggered from another blow to her side. Her breath hitched—but she did not fall.
Caveen's roar shook the air. "STOP IT! I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"
Carlos turned away from the scene, unable to watch. "This is what they want. They want to break her will… or force her to awaken so they can consume her."
"I don't care what they want!" Caveen shouted, fangs bared. "That's my sister in there."
He slammed his head against the barrier with a growl of helpless rage.
---
"Still nothing?" Elder Varia clicked her tongue. "Even now, you don't scream?"
She raised her hand—black lightning dancing on her fingers—and struck Seraphine across the chest.
The impact echoed like a thunderclap.
Seraphine staggered again, her lip finally splitting open. Blood ran down her chin.
But her voice—her precious voice—remained silent.
Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, not from pain, but from something deeper. Her fury was eating her from the inside. Her instincts were begging to break free.
But she remembered Alaric's promise.
His voice echoed in her mind.
> "Just endure a little longer, my heart. Until we're strong enough. Until we have them all."
She wouldn't let rage be their leash.
---
Carlos pressed his forehead against the dome, his voice trembling. "You're stronger than all of them, Seraphine. Don't give them what they want…"
Caveen trembled beside him, fists clenched. "We will get you out of there, even if it kills us…"
A crack formed in the barrier.
Tiny.
Barely visible.
But it was there.
And Seraphine, inside the inferno, looked up for just a moment.
Their eyes met.
And she smiled.
Even while bleeding.
Even while tortured.
She smiled.
Because she had not broken.
-------
A heartbeat.
That's all it took.
A single heartbeat for the world to tilt.
Inside the chamber of the Council, as Seraphine knelt in pain, bloodied and bound, something ancient stirred in the shadows.
It was not the witch blood, nor the Lycan wrath.
It was him.
Alaric.
Eyes locked on Seraphine's tortured form, his breath came in ragged bursts. Rage surged through his veins, sharper than steel and brighter than fire. His mind screamed. His blood answered.
A power long buried beneath centuries of slumber and pain cracked open.
And then—
Light.
Blinding. Pure. Divine.
Alaric's body lifted from the cold marble floor, radiant like the sun itself. Ethereal golden vines wrapped around him, glyphs etched in glowing silver racing across his skin.
His raven-black hair shimmered into threads of starlight.
Elven.
Not just any Elf.
The Last Royal of the Fallen Elven Court.
Gasps rang across the chamber.
"No... impossible..." murmured a Council elder, stepping back in fear. "The Elves are extinct. They were all wiped—!"
Alaric's eyes opened—now glowing silver with the memory of forgotten stars.
He looked at Seraphine, his heart pulsing with fury and devotion. The air around him trembled, walls cracked.
"Stop him!" screamed Elder Sylas. "Shoot him down before the awakening completes!"
The Forbidden Arrow. Crafted from obsidian bone and bathed in silent moonfire—meant to end an Elite's soul permanently.
It was meant for Seraphine.
But now, it pointed at Alaric.
Drawn. Aimed.
"FIRE!"
The arrow whistled through the air—
Straight into Alaric's heart.
Thud.
The light vanished.
His glow collapsed like dying stardust.
Alaric staggered.
Blood spilled from his lips like a rose in bloom.
Time froze.
"NO!" Seraphine's scream ripped the heavens.
Her eyes went black.
Not darkness—but abyss. Power darker than night itself erupted from her body.
Chains of magic snapped like threads.
The orb meant to trap her shattered in mid-air.
The council guards raised their weapons—too late.
She ignored the blades. The fire. The arrows.
Like a shadow wreathed in wrath, she moved.
Straight to him.
Alaric knelt, still upright, the arrow lodged in his chest.
He looked at her with gentle eyes, filled with the stars of their shared fate.
"Alaric…" she gasped, wrapping her arms around him, blood and tears staining her face. "Don't you dare leave me. Don't you dare…"
He raised his hand, weakly wiping her tears with trembling fingers.
"Seraphine…" he whispered, a faint smile on his lips. "I told you once… you are my beginning and my end…"
She sobbed, clutching him tighter, "There must be a way! I'll find it—I'll bring you back—I swear—"
He smiled again. "Then wait for me… just a little longer…"
"I'll come back, my love."
And with that, his body grew still.
His head rested on her shoulder.
His eyes closed.
Sleep.
A cursed slumber without end.
A silence that would never speak again… unless fate itself was defied.