POV: King Theron
The Council's call arrived like a blade through the heart.
I stood in my war room, reading the official paper. The wax seal was black—a color I hadn't seen in ages. Black meant danger. Black meant the Council wasn't asking. They were commanding.
"They want you at the Temple of Immortals in three days," Lord Ravens said quietly from behind me. "Your Majesty, this is serious. If you don't appear—"
"I know what it means," I snapped. "Send word. I'll be there."
But I already knew what this was about. It wasn't difficult. The entire eternal realm knew about Seraphina. They knew about the pregnancy. They knew about my plans for the Eternal Ritual. And they were angry.
The Council had always tolerated my... tastes. As long as I was discreet, as long as the mortal women didn't mess with politics, they looked the other way. But Seraphina wasn't subtle. Seraphina was being treated like a queen. Seraphina was going to become eternal.
That threatened their power system.
I should have seen this coming. I should have known they would move against me. But I'd been too caught up in her—too focused on holding her, keeping her, making her mine forever. I'd made myself vulnerable, and now the Council was going to exploit that frailty.
The three days before the Council call felt like torture.
I tried to act normal around Seraphina. I spent the nights with her as usual. I listened to her sing. I held her hand. I told her everything was fine. But I was planning. Always planning.
The Forgotten Isles. That's where I would send her. It was beyond the Council's reach. It was a place where exiled beings lived beyond divine rule. She would be safe there while I dealt with the political fallout. She would be safe, and the baby would be safe, and I would find a way to break the Council's requests.
I always found a way.
On the morning of the third day, I went to her room one last time before leaving for the Temple.
She was still sleeping, looking peaceful and beautiful in the morning light that filtered through my castle. Her hand was resting on her stomach. I could see the prophecy marks her grandma had left—glowing faintly on her wrists. They made me angry every time I saw them. They meant the old woman had been here. It meant Seraphina had been warned.
Warned about what? I didn't want to know.
"Seraphina," I said softly, waking her gently. "I have to go. Council business."
Her eyes opened instantly. There was something strange in them—a sadness I hadn't seen before.
"How long will you be gone?" she asked.
"A few days," I lied. I had no idea how long this would take. "I need you to pack. Lightly. Just the essentials."
She sat up, suddenly alert. "Pack? Why?"
"We're leaving the palace," I said. "Just for a while. The Council is becoming tough. I want to move you somewhere safer while I handle the political problem."
"Theron," she said carefully, "what's happening? What did the Council want?"
I kissed her forehead, dodging her eyes. "Trust me. I'm taking care of it."
I had to leave before she asked more questions. I had to leave before I told her the truth—that the Council had given me an option. Marry Lady Morganna or watch the human realm burn.
The choice was impossible, but the answer was clear.
I would never marry Morganna. I would never leave Seraphina. But I also couldn't let millions of mortals die because the Council chose to withdraw their protection. The realms were complex. Gods and immortals held back rival powers through sheer force and allies. If the Council removed their backing, the mortal realm would be invaded within weeks. Famine, plague, war—all of it would follow.
So I had to find a third choice. I had to find a way to please the Council without giving them what they wanted.
The Temple of Immortals rose from the heavenly plane like a mountain made of starlight. It was beautiful and terrifying—a place where immortal law was decided, where treaties were signed, where the fate of countries was determined.
The Council sat on thrones set in a circle. Seven of them. The most powerful immortals in existence. They stared at me with expressions running from angry to calculating.
"King Theron," the Council leader said—an old being named Valorian who'd ruled longer than I'd been alive. "We have called you here regarding your continued obsession with the mortal bard Seraphina Tideborn."
"She's not an obsession," I said slowly. "She's my chosen consort."
"A mortal cannot be a consort to an immortal king," another Council member spat. "It's beneath the dignity of this realm."
"I'm planning to make her immortal," I said. "The Eternal Ritual will—"
"The Eternal Ritual is forbidden without Council approval," Valorian interrupted. "And permission will not be given. Not for her. Not for anyone without immortal family approval."
I felt my curse rising in my chest, burning to be released. I forced it down.
"Then what do you want?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"We want you to marry someone appropriate," Valorian said. "Lady Morganna Shadowfell has agreed to the match. She's powerful, politically connected, and ready to strengthen your realm through the binding."
"I won't do it."
"If you refuse," Valorian said coldly, "the Council will remove its protection from the mortal realm. Rival gods will be free to attack. The human lands will fall within weeks. Millions will die. Their deaths will be on your hands, King Theron. Not ours."
The words hit like a curse. It was a great trap. Either I sacrificed Seraphina, or I sacrificed millions of innocents.
"I need time," I said.
"You have seven days," Valorian answered. "Either marry Morganna, or we begin the exit process. The choice is yours."
I left the Temple feeling like I was sinking.
Seven days. That's all I had to find an answer. Seven days to save Seraphina and the human realm at the same time. Seven days before everything I'd built came crashing down.
When I returned to the palace, I found Seraphina waiting for me in my private rooms.
She looked like she'd been crying.
"Theron," she said, her voice calm but sad, "I need you to tell me the truth. What did the Council really want?"
I should have told her. I should have been honest. But I was a king, and kings made hard choices alone.
"Nothing we can't handle," I said, pulling her into my arms. "Trust me."
"I don't trust you," she said quietly. "Your grandma came to me while you were gone. She showed me a vision, Theron. She showed me you binding yourself to another woman."
My entire body went hard.
"She showed me the future where you choose your power over me. Where you choose the Council's requests over our child. Where I'm left alone and broken."
"That won't happen," I said, but the words sounded hollow even to my own ears.
"It already is happening," she whispered. "I can see it in your eyes. You've already made your choice. You're just trying to figure out how to tell me."
"Seraphina—"
"Don't," she said, pulling away from me. "Don't make it worse with lies. I'm going. Tonight. I'm taking what's mine and disappearing before you make me disappear."
She was moving toward the door when I caught her hand.
"If you leave," I said, and my voice was cold now—the voice of the king, not the man, "you'll never see me again. I will search every land. I will burn down the Forgotten Isles if I have to. I will find you."
She looked at me with eyes full of sadness.
"I know," she said. "That's exactly why I have to go."
And then she was gone, running into
the palace halls, running toward a future I couldn't control.