Page 49

49

SERA

T he battlefield stills.

The air is stale with smoke, the ground slick with blood. The stench of burning flesh hangs in the ruins of the fortress, but none of it matters anymore.

He is here.

Hazeran.

The shadow that has loomed over everything. The monster that created monsters.

He stands on the broken steps of what was once the stronghold, draped in black, his silver eyes burning with amusement. Unbothered. Untouched.

He does not look at the carnage around him. He does not acknowledge the bodies strewn at his feet, nor the dark elves who once called him master, now dead in pools of their own blood.

He only looks at me.

And he smiles.

"Look at what you have become, little siren."

His voice isn’t raised, but it might as well be thunder. It carries across the battlefield, commanding. Absolute.

The soldiers around us hesitate. Watching.

Even Veylan stills.

I cannot breathe. Something inside me snaps.

I scream.

The power explodes from my chest like a raw, burning thing, curling around my bones like fire.

I lunge.

The world erupts into a frenzy.

Lightning crackles through the sky, the wind howls, the force of my rage splitting the ground beneath my feet.

I reach for him—for his throat, for his heart, to tear him apart.

He lifts a single hand.

And stops me.

The power slams into an invisible wall.

It shatters against it.

My body doesn’t move fast enough before something slams into my chest.

I feel the world tilt—violently, brutally.

Then I am on the ground, beaten.

The breath is knocked from my lungs. My magic chokes.

I try to rise. I cannot.

I am nothing beneath him.

The battlefield is silent. No one dares move. Not Veylan. Not his brothers. Not their soldiers.

Hazeran towers over me, the firelight from the wreckage behind him casting his face in shadows. His silver hair flows like liquid metal, his expression calm. Patient.

"You thought you could fight me?" He tilts his head. "You thought you could change your fate? My sons, do you think you can destroy me? It seems I have raised you well, enough for you to stage a rebellion and kill your father."

His laughter echoes in the battlefield, mocking and holding a sense of finality.

I gasp. I try to lift my arms, but they will not obey me.

My magic does not obey me. My voice won’t come out, it’s as if there’s a binding over my mouth.

Panic claws at my ribs.

No.

I will not die like this.

But Hazeran only watches. And smiles.

Then he lifts his hand and snaps his fingers.

"Kill her."

The command is absolute.

His forces move.

Blades are drawn. Arrows nocked. The air hums with the charge of spellcasters readying their magic.

And I am helpless.

I am going to die.

Suddenly, there’s a shift of shadow, just a blur of movement.

Then steel meets steel.

Veylan.

He moves before anyone else.

His sword flashes in the firelight, cutting through the nearest soldier before they can reach me. The sound of it is wet, final.

Then he turns, shields me with his body.

He is fighting against them. Against his father.

"You will not touch her."

Hazeran laughs. "You disappoint me, boy."

Veylan does not answer.

He lunges.

Hazeran meets him like he has been waiting for this.

Their blades collide.

The battle begins again but I cannot move.

I am still on my knees, the world spinning too fast, my body shaking too hard.

I reach for my magic—and feel nothing.

Panic.

I try to breathe. Try to move.

Veylan’s soldiers rush past me, colliding with Hazeran’s forces. I hear the battle, but it is distant. Distant and meaningless.

I am useless.

Hazeran took everything from me in a single moment.

The man who betrayed me—the one who broke me—is now fighting for me.

And I cannot do a damn thing. Why the hell is he doing this anyway? Why is Veylan fighting so hard?

Is it to complete that damn ritual? It feels like a hand is reaching out to my heart, ready to tear it apart.

I try to push to my feet, but the world spins. Everything inside me is breaking.

I squeeze my hands into fists. I force myself to stand.

Veylan’s sword clashes with Hazeran’s again and again. Sparks fly.

Father and son.

Blood against blood.

I force myself forward.

I will not let him fight this alone. For once, I want to be in control of my life.

Even if I burn for it.

Even if I die, it will be my own choosing.