“You were never good at staying in line,” came her father’s voice.
Seraphine turned.
Lord Drakar stood at the top of the broken stairway like a blade carved from obsidian. Robes dark, embroidered in threads that shimmered like ash in firelight. No crown. He didn’t need one. His presence said enough.
Two steps behind him—Vaela. Smiling.
Of course.
“Father,” Seraphine said, voice like stone, flat and cool.
“Daughter.” His gaze swept her, slow and measured. “You’ve made quite a mess.”
“I’m not cleaning it up.”
“Is that your final stance?”
She stepped down from the altar. “I’m not your pawn anymore.”
Something flickered in his eyes—mockery, maybe. Or irritation. The kind reserved for a child refusing orders.
“I raised you for more than this,” he said, stepping closer. “You are the future of Drakar.”
“No,” she said. “I was your insurance policy. A weapon you dressed up in silk and steel.”
He stopped within reach, but didn’t touch her. “You’ve aligned yourself with a danger.”
“His name is Cassian.”
“He’s a storm.” His voice tightened. “And storms destroy.”
“He saved me,” she spat. “More times than I can count. He bled for this realm. For me.”
“Because he wants it for himself.”
“No,” she said, eyes blazing. “Because he wants me to live. Free. Whole. Not shackled by your damn legacy.”
That struck something deep. The mask cracked. Just a flicker.
“You think you know sacrifice?” he said, voice low now. Threatening. “I gave up everything for Drakar’s survival. And I’ll burn it all again to stop what’s coming.”
“Then we’re already lost,” she whispered.
A pause. Then a breath—too calm, too cold. Vaela stepped forward from behind Lord Drakar like she’d been waiting in the wings of a play.
“I tried to warn you, cousin,” she said smoothly, her voice dipped in mock sympathy. “You’re too soft for war.”
Seraphine didn’t flinch. “And you’re too eager for the end.”
Vaela’s lips curved upward, a serpent’s smile. “I’m not the one who consorted with Hollowborn.”
The words hit like a slap. Seraphine blinked, her mouth parting.
“What?” Her voice cracked with disbelief.
Her gaze darted to her father. Waiting for denial. Fury. Any hint of shock.
But his face didn’t change.
