The attack came at midnight.
Explosions echoed through the palace courtyard. Flames—ordinary flames—climbed the walls.
Elaria rushed outside.
Royal guards were fighting masked soldiers bearing the old king's insignia.
Draven stood at the center of the chaos.
"Traitors!" he shouted.
But something felt wrong.
Too organized.
Too precise.
Kael grabbed Elaria's arm. "This isn't rebellion. This is a test."
Suddenly, a blade shot toward Elaria from the shadows.
Kael stepped in front of her.
The blade pierced his shoulder.
Time froze.
Rage unlike anything Elaria had felt exploded inside her.
Shadowfire burst from her body in a wave of dark crimson light.
The attackers screamed as their weapons melted in their hands.
Within seconds, silence fell.
Kael collapsed.
Elaria knelt beside him, trembling.
"I'm fine," he whispered weakly.
But his blood stained the stone.
And somewhere in the darkness, Draven watched.