Babies.
My knees gave way. The book slipped, and Dario’s shadows caught it before it fell, but I could not stop the sound that tore from me—a raw, keening gasp, half-sob, half-denial.
“No,” I whispered. “No. Sun God, no.”
My body shook, each breath a ragged tear. The memories crashed back—the wards, the endless vials of my blood they demanded, always smiling, always so sure.This is for Solaris. This will protect us.
But it hadn’t protected anyone. It had fed this.
“I gave them everything,” I choked, clutching at my chest, as though I could rip the betrayal free with my bare hands. “I trusted them. I—I…” The words fell into sobs.
Warmth pressed against me then. Dario. His arms wrapped around me, holding me upright as I shattered, his shadows curling close like a cocoon. His voice, low and furious, cut through my cries.
“You used her,” he spat at the Elders. His voice was dark steel, sharp enough to slice bone. “You wanted a phoenix who would follow orders. Someone you could control.” He shook his head. “And so you bled her dry. You turned her faith into chains andshackled children to your altar.”
Rindais only smiled, teeth gleaming in the torchlight. “Faith is the easiest leash,” he said softly, delighted. “She never even felt the collar.”
I wanted to strike him, to burn that smile off his face, but my hands only trembled. My light flickered uselessly, drowning beneath despair.
I pressed my forehead to Dario’s shoulder, tears hot against my skin. His cloak smelled of smoke and iron, his chest unyielding as stone. I could not stand on my own, not now.
“They stole children,” I whispered, my voice raw and broken.
Dario’s arms tightened, a vow written in the strength of his embrace. “Never again.”
I drew a shaky breath, forcing myself to lift my head, to meet the Elders’ eyes through the blur of tears. My voice cracked, but the fire returned to it. “You damned Solaris. You damned us all.”
They didn’t flinch. They didn’t deny it. And in that silence, everything I had ever believed collapsed into ash.
For the first time in my life, I saw no wisdom in their eyes, no warmth, no guidance. Only cold calculation. Only hunger.
My hands curled into fists, nails digging crescents into my palms. The despair clawing at me only a breath ago burned away, leaving something harder, sharper. Rage.
I had given them everything—my devotion, my obedience, my blood—and they had turned it all into a weapon against the innocent.
“But why?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Why did you go to such lengths?”
Dario laughed harshly. “Because they’re afraid of you, Elena. Because they can’t control your power. You don’thaveto follow their orders, but they need to keep you chained to their will. They need you to stay blind to the truth, and stay their good little puppet.”
I took a shaky breath, trying to piece together the fragments of everything I had learned.
The Elders sought not only to control me but to usurp the Sun God's power entirely. With a controllable chimera infused with my abilities, they could extend their influence beyond Solaris, dominating the surrounding lands and securing their reign for centuries to come.
Their ambition knew no bounds, and I, their loyal High Priestess, had been nothing more than a pawn in their game.
I straightened, forcing air into my lungs, and when I spoke, my voice no longer shook. “You took children. You stole them from their beds and fed them to your greed. You chained me to your lies and called it faith. And still—still—you dare to stand there and look me in the eye.”
Irina’s mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile. “Control yourself, Elena. Hysteria does not suit you.”
The last thread of my restraint snapped.
Light surged at my fingertips, blinding and hot, spilling like fire across the chamber walls. Shadows leapt to meet it, answering Dario’s silent command, twining around my flames until gold and black wove together into something neither of us could summon alone.
I felt him beside me, close and solid, his power coiling around mine with instinctive precision. For once, we did not need to speak. We were one will, one purpose.
Rindais tilted his head, eyes gleaming mismatched and cruel. “Ah,” he drawled, his voice a velvet knife, “there she is. The phoenix unbound. Tell me, priestess—does it feel good to stop pretending? To burn as you were always meant to?”
“Don’t you dare speak of what I was meant for,” I snarled. “Not you. Not any of you.”
