Cassian's POV
Chaos erupted.
The golden light from Seraphina's hands blazed brighter, filling the entire throne room. Nobles screamed. Guards shouted. Someone knocked over a candelabra, and flames licked at the curtains.
"Seize her!" Theron roared from his throne.
Guards rushed toward us. But Seraphina raised her glowing hands, and a wave of pure light burst outward. The guards flew backward like they'd hit a wall.
"How are you doing that?" I asked, amazed and terrified at the same time.
"I don't know!" she gasped. Her hands were shaking. "I just felt angry and it just—"
"Save the questions for later!" I grabbed her arm. "We need to go. Now!"
I pulled her toward the side exit, but more guards blocked our path. We were surrounded.
Then—a roar of rage.
Elias broke free from his captors despite his wounds. He grabbed a sword from a fallen guard and charged toward us, cutting through anyone in his way.
"Go!" he shouted at us. "Through the servants' passage behind the throne! I'll hold them off!"
"I'm not leaving you!" I yelled back.
"You don't have a choice!" Elias fought off three guards at once. "She's too important to die here! Get her to safety! That's an order from your friend, not your knight!"
His words hit me like a punch. He was right. Whatever Seraphina was, whatever power she had—it couldn't fall into Theron's hands.
"I'll come back for you," I promised.
"I know." Elias smiled despite the blood on his face. "Now GO!"
I pulled Seraphina toward the servants' passage. The mysterious grey-haired woman was still standing near it, and as we passed, she whispered, "The old library. Third floor. You'll be safe there until nightfall. Trust me."
"Who are you?" I demanded.
"Someone who's been waiting a very long time for her." She nodded at Seraphina. "Now run, Prince. Dawn is coming, and you'll need every minute."
We didn't wait for more explanation. We plunged into the dark passage as shouts and sword clashes echoed behind us.
The servants' corridors were narrow and twisting. Perfect for hiding. Terrible if we got lost.
"Do you know where you're going?" Seraphina gasped as we ran.
"Mostly." I'd explored these passages as a child, before the curse. "There's an old library that no one uses anymore. If we can reach it—"
Footsteps thundered behind us. Close. Too close.
"There!" a guard shouted. "They went this way!"
I pulled Seraphina around a corner, then another. My lungs burned. Her hand was tight in mine.
Finally, I saw it—an ancient wooden door covered in dust. I yanked it open and pushed Seraphina inside, following and slamming it shut behind us.
Darkness surrounded us. I pressed my ear against the door, listening.
Footsteps passed by. Kept going. Faded away.
We'd lost them. For now.
I slumped against the door, breathing hard. Seraphina collapsed onto the floor, her hands still faintly glowing.
"That was insane," she whispered. "Did I really just—"
"Break your shackles with magic and throw a dozen guards across the room? Yes." I slid down beside her. "You were incredible."
"I was terrified."
"Being brave doesn't mean not being scared. It means being scared and doing it anyway." I looked at her in the dim light filtering through a high window. "You saved us both back there."
"Elias saved us," she corrected, her voice breaking. "And now he's captured. They'll kill him because of us."
Guilt crashed over me. Elias had been my friend since we were children. My only friend after the curse. And now he was paying the price for my mistakes.
"We'll get him back," I said firmly. "Once we figure out what's happening and how to stop Theron."
"With what army?" Seraphina asked bitterly. "We're two people hiding in a dusty library. Theron has the whole kingdom."
She was right. We had nothing. No weapons. No allies. No plan.
Except...
"We have you," I said slowly. "Your power. That's what everyone wants, right? Theron wants it. Morgana wants it. We just need to figure out how to use it."
"I don't even know what it is," she protested. "It just happens when I'm emotional. I can't control it."
"Then we'll learn. Together." I stood up and looked around the library. Shelves lined every wall, packed with ancient books covered in dust. "That woman said we'd be safe here until nightfall. Let's use that time to find answers."
Seraphina stood too, wiping her eyes. "Where do we even start?"
I moved to the nearest shelf, reading titles. Most were boring—histories, tax records, boring noble family trees. But then, near the back, I found a section that made my heart race.
"Here," I said, pulling out a heavy leather book. "Ancient Magic and Bloodlines of the First Gods."
Seraphina hurried over. Together we opened it, coughing at the dust.
The pages were yellowed and fragile. But the words were clear.
"The Healers of the First Gods," I read aloud, "were blessed with the power to purify all dark magic. Their blood could break curses, heal wounds, and even resurrect the dying. They were the most powerful force against darkness the world had ever known."
"Were?" Seraphina whispered. "Past tense?"
I kept reading, my stomach sinking with each word. "They were hunted to extinction three hundred years ago during the Dark Purge. Powerful sorcerers feared their ability to break curses, so they banded together and slaughtered every Healer they could find. The bloodline was thought to be completely wiped out."
"But I'm still here," Seraphina said quietly. "Which means..."
"Which means your ancestors survived somehow. Went into hiding. Probably hid their powers for generations." I looked at her. "You're the last of an ancient, powerful bloodline that was supposed to be extinct."
The weight of that settled over both of us.
"No wonder everyone wants me," she said. "Theron wants to use me. Morgana wants my blood for her curses. I'm not a person to them. I'm just... power to steal."
"Not to me." I took her hand. "To me, you're the brave girl who refused to let a cursed prince suffer alone. That's all that matters."
She squeezed my hand, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Thank you," she whispered.
We spent the next hours reading everything we could find about Healers. Most of it was history—battles they'd fought, curses they'd broken, miracles they'd performed. But finally, near the end of one book, I found something useful.
"Listen to this," I said excitedly. "'A Healer's power is strongest when protecting those they love. The deeper the emotional bond, the greater the magic they can channel.'" I looked up at her. "That's why your power manifested when Morgana attacked. You were protecting me."
"But I barely know you," she said.
"Do you?" I asked quietly. "Because it feels like I've known you much longer than a day."
She blushed. "I feel that too. Like we're... connected somehow."
"Maybe we are. The book says Healers often formed bonds with—" I stopped, rereading the sentence. "Oh."
"What? What does it say?"
I showed her the page. "'Healers often formed sacred bonds with those they healed, creating a connection that transcended normal magic. These bonds, once formed, could never be broken. The Healer and the healed would be linked for life, able to sense each other's emotions and, in some cases, share power.'"
We stared at each other.
"When you touched me during the curse," I said slowly, "did you feel something? Like a thread connecting us?"
She nodded. "Golden. Warm. Like... like coming home."
"That's a sacred bond," I breathed. "We're connected now. For life."
"Is that bad?" she asked nervously.
"I don't know. But it explains why I can't stop thinking about you. Why every instinct I have screams at me to protect you." I paused. "Why the thought of you getting hurt makes me want to burn down the whole kingdom."
Her eyes widened. "Cassian..."
Before either of us could say more, a sound made us both freeze.
Scratching.
Coming from inside the walls.
"What is that?" Seraphina whispered.
The scratching grew louder. Closer. Like something was crawling through the walls toward us.
Then—the wall exploded outward.
A creature lunged through—half-human, half-stone. Its eyes glowed red with madness.
"Impossible," I breathed in horror. "That's... that's one of the cursed."
"One of the what?" Seraphina screamed as the creature charged at us.
"The people who touched me during my transformation!" I pulled her behind me. "They're supposed to be dead! Turned to stone forever!"
But this thing wasn't dead. It was alive—and murderous.
It opened its mouth and spoke in a horrible, grinding voice:
"The King sent us. He wants the Healer. Dead or alive."
More walls exploded. More creatures crawled through.
We were surrounded by an army of the cursed dead.
And they were all staring at Seraphina with hungry, hate-filled eyes.