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Her eyes brightened with realization. “The prophecy…” she whispered, more to herself than to them.

Broderick’s brow furrowed. “The what?”

Evangeline stepped closer, urgency knitting her features tight as she caught his hands in hers.

“Why would you sacrifice your love for this woman, knowing you’ll never see her again?

” Her gaze searched his, fierce and imploring.

“More to the point, Broderick, do you truly believe you are unworthy of her love?”

His head bowed beneath the weight of his own guilt. Voice low, he confessed, “She doesnae deserve me…nor the darkness I’ve dragged into her life, or her wee bairn.” His throat worked around the words. “So, nay. I am not worthy.”

Evangeline cupped his cheek, her touch gentle but firm. “She loves you of her own free will, Broderick. Why would you deny her that?”

Broderick opened his mouth to answer.

But Evangeline cut him off, her eyes narrowing shrewdly. “Guilt. Aye?”

His jaw clenched, muscles ticking beneath the strain. “Aye,” he admitted at last, his voice low and rough. “And for good cause. Neither ye nor Davina would’ve been caught in this cursed feud had I no’ been blinded by revenge.”

“To be fair, Rick,” Evangeline replied with a small, wry smile, “ I did not see it either. Nor did Maxwell, nor Donnell. This was a secret Hamish carried to his grave. You cannot blame yourself for what none of us knew.”

Uncomfortable beneath the weight of her piercing gaze, Broderick shifted his stance. “This is all well and cathartic, lass, but what does this have tae do with Davina and the cure?”

“Just one more point,” Evangeline said, holding up a finger.

“Remember that both Davina and I are grown women, capable of our own choices. Angus was already immortal when he seduced me, using the Vamsyrian power of compulsion to sway my heart—but I, too, bear responsibility. I let my loneliness consume me rather than confiding my fears in you.” She glanced at Davina, her expression softening.

“And Davina, here, she knows her own mind. So…can you, Broderick, find it in your heart to forgive yourself? To release this guilt that’s chained you, so you might heal?

” Evangeline leaned forward, her gaze bright with expectation.

Broderick stiffened, her words cutting straight to the marrow. He hadn’t known Angus had compelled Evangeline. There was so much he hadn’t known. Realization settled over him like a heavy cloak, and with it, a fragile thread of understanding.

He turned his gaze to Davina. His heart ached to be with her, to cherish every moment of her mortal life. “Aye,” he said at last, rough but resolute. “I can do that. But I willnae let Davina choose immortality and damn her soul.”

Evangeline’s face brightened. She clapped her hands together with a spark of delight. “Good! Because I have glorious news.”

She drew closer to Broderick and Davina, leaning in, and her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

“There is a prophecy—a prophecy of redemption for your kind. It says, ‘The first sign will be the sacrifice of a troubled heart. This sacrifice will spawn the forgiveness needed to release this heart trapped by guilt and heal.’ That is what has just happened.”

Broderick scoffed. “That’s bleedin’ ridiculous. That could speak tae any similar circumstance—”

“I know.” Evangeline held up her hand. “But there’s more. It speaks of two brothers who are at war. You and Angus…you both are part of this prophecy.” Her eyes gleamed. “And because of this, you are permitted to accompany Davina. But that is all I can say for now.”

Relief surged through Broderick’s chest, lightening the weight that had shackled his heart.

Although he didn’t believe in any of this prophecy business, the fact that he and Davina wouldn’t be separated was better than he was expecting.

Davina, radiant even in her exhaustion, sighed and leaned toward him, her own smile blooming, fragile but full of hope.

The shuffle at the back of the room drew Broderick’s attention. The two guards exchanged uneasy glances before slipping from the small room and returning to the Council Chamber.

Evangeline gave Davina’s hand a gentle, reassuring pat. “Last chance, child. Immortality or the cure?”

“If Broderick and I can be together, then the cure,” Davina managed a brave smile, though Broderick could feel the tremor of pain beneath it, thrumming through her hand. He lifted her in his arms, and she rested her head against his shoulder with a sigh.

“Come with me, then.” Evangeline rapped on the door through which she had first entered—two knocks, a pause, then three quick taps. The coded rhythm echoed in the hushed chamber. Moments later, the bolt slid back with a heavy metallic scrape, and the door creaked open .

Evangeline stepped through first, beckoning for Broderick to follow. He carried Davina close to his chest. The passage beyond was narrow and shadows clung to the stone, broken only by the flickering of sparse torches lining the way.

A woman in simple monastic garb, her face etched with concern, emerged from the gloom, and bolted the door behind them. She turned to Evangeline, confusion knitting her brow. “ Two , Sister Evangeline? How are there two?”

Evangeline shook her finger over her shoulder. “I will explain later, Sister Mariota. We must hurry.”

Broderick quickened his pace, boots striking echoes from the stone floor as the two women led them deeper into the passageway.

At last, the narrow corridor gave way to a small antechamber. A heavy wooden door, reinforced with iron bands, loomed at the opposite side, its surface catching the muted torchlight.

The door swung open to reveal the cool kiss of night air and a clearing just beyond the fortress walls. Overhead, the moon hung low and swollen, casting long, silvered light across the grass.

Evangeline followed them out, closing the door with care.

She pressed her palm against the metal and murmured in a tongue Broderick did not recognize, the words soft and strange.

At once, he felt his strength ebb, a draining pull that tugged at his very marrow.

Evangeline’s hand shot out, firm against his chest. “Stay back, Broderick,” she warned.

The weakening sensation faded as they moved away from the door, but a cold unease lingered in Broderick’s bones.

Evangeline turned to Mariota, her smile tight with urgency. “All right, Sister Mariota, where is the vial?”

Mariota’s face drained of color, her eyes widening like twin full moons. “M-me? I thought you brought it!”

Evangeline’s brow furrowed, her lips thinning to a firm line. “I thought you brought it.”

A beat of stunned silence passed between them, their gazes locked in mutual horror, before they groaned in unison.

“No one ever chooses the cure!” Mariota said defensively, throwing her hands skyward in exasperation. “This is the one time someone does, and we didn’t bring it?”

Evangeline pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling a ragged breath. “We don’t have time for this,” she muttered darkly. Raising her voice, she whipped toward to Broderick. “We’ll have to fix this another way. Stay here.”

Without further delay, she strode toward two horses tethered beneath a skeletal tree at the clearing’s edge. Her hands dove into one of the saddlebags, retrieving a scrap of parchment, a stick of charcoal, and a narrow leather scroll case.

Dropping to her knees, she began to write with swift, practiced strokes, her urgency scrawled into every dark line of the script.

Broderick knelt on the grass and gently lowered Davina to the ground. He sat behind her and her head lolled against him, damp with fevered sweat. He smoothed the tangled hair from her clammy brow, his jaw clenched as he took in the pallor of her lips, the tremor in her fragile hands.

“Hold on, lass,” he encouraged, his voice thick with desperation. “Just a little longer.”

Evangeline’s charcoal scratched to a stop. She scanned the parchment, narrowed her eyes, and made a few final, quick marks before rolling it tightly in the leather, then sealed it with a press of wax on the tie, imprinting the Army of Light insignia.

Standing, she thrust the canister toward Broderick, her gaze hard as tempered steel.

“Listen well,” she commanded. “Take Davina to the monastery in Leeds. Run—your immortal speed will carry you faster than any horse. When you arrive, tell the monks you seek the cure, and that Sister Evangeline sent you. They will understand.”

Broderick’s brows knitted. “And the cure itself?” he pressed, dread simmering beneath his words.

“They will prepare it for you,” Evangeline assured him.

“It’s an infusion of a special tea. It will stabilize her condition and reverse the effects of the Blood Slave bond.

” She hesitated, her gaze hardening. “But only after they’ve given you the cure should you show them this scroll.

It’s addressed to Father Beaumont, the head of the monastery.

Show them the seal to prove the Army of Light sent you, but do not place it in anyone’s hands except his. Only Father Beaumont.”

“Why the secrecy?” Broderick asked, his brow furrowing deep with suspicion.

Evangeline’s jaw tightened, a flicker of unease shadowing her eyes. “Just do it,” she clipped, then softened her tone. “But you’ll have the upper hand, Broderick. You’re immortal. They are not. Do not let them intimidate you.”

A ghost of a smirk touched Broderick’s lips. “I think I can manage a few monks.”

Evangeline matched his grin with a flash of her own, a glimmer of old camaraderie in her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you can. Once you’ve given Father Beaumont the scroll, await his instructions.”

Then she knelt beside Davina, her expression gentling as she brushed sweat-damp hair from the younger woman’s brow. “You’re strong, Davina,” she whispered, the words a balm. “Hold on just a little longer. You’ll be free of this soon. ”

Davina’s lips curved into the faintest smile, weak but full of gratitude. “Thank you,” she rasped, her voice no more than a breath. “For everything.”

Evangeline leaned in and embraced her briefly. When she drew back, her eyes shimmered with quiet resolve. She turned to Broderick, laying her hand firmly on his shoulder. “Take care of her, and take care of yourself, Broderick.”

Broderick dipped his chin in a tight nod, the weight of her charge settling in his chest. He rose smoothly, gathering Davina into his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather. Her head lolled against his shoulder, breathing shallow but steady.

Evangeline stepped back, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Godspeed,” she whispered.

Without another word, Broderick surged into the night, his immortal speed blurring the world into streaks of shadow and silver. The wind roared past them, the landscape vanishing beneath his relentless stride.

He held Davina close, her heart pounding with determination. She was strong. She would make it. She had to. Every step drove him closer to Leeds.

And to the fragile, flickering hope of saving the woman he loved.

∞∞∞

Ammon halted mid-stride as Rasheed swept into the Council Chamber, Mikhail storming close at his heels.

Mikhail seized Rasheed’s shoulder, spinning him harshly. “You cannot let them leave this place alive! ”

“Are you mad?” Rasheed pointed to the front entrance, where they had watched Broderick and Davina make a hasty retreat. “He has already completed a small measure of the prophecy with this incident. It has already begun. We do not know enough about the prophecy. Killing him may destroy us.”

Ammon stepped toward them and gritted his teeth. “Then what do you suggest we do? We cannot let him walk away to do his own bidding.”

“We will watch him and keep a close account of both him and his brother.” Rasheed paced, his hands clenched behind his back.

Ammon dared to mention, “Rasheed, the Creator cannot know that—”

“I know!” Rasheed closed his eyes, raking his fingers through his jet-black hair. “I was a fool not to see what that woman was up to. Cordelia has obviously learned of the prophecy and has manipulated it to begin.”

“Surely, you are not saying that half-wit of a woman knew what she was doing in bringing these two brothers before us.” Mikhail punched his hands into his hips.

“Have a care, Mikhail! Cordelia Harley is not the fool she pretends to be, and she has tricked us all into starting this chain of events. She is the one we must hunt down and eliminate or the Creator will take great pleasure in torturing us.”

Rasheed paced across the stone floor, arms crossed, eyes lost in his thoughts.

After moments of silent pondering and agitation, he turned to Mikhail and Ammon.

“No one else must know about this. Watch these two brothers closely. Be sure they do not do anything else to bring about our destruction. And we must delve deeper into the prophecy to find those missing pieces, or their conflict will be the annihilation of our entire race!”