Page 86 of Sweet Venom Of Time (Blade of Shadows #6)

Chapter Thirty-Five

ELIZABETH

T ucked deep beneath our cottage, hidden behind layers of stone and sealed by an old oak door Amir never questioned, was my sanctuary—and my sin.

A forgotten cellar, once used for storing food and wine, now transformed into something darker, where I came to remember, create, and indulge in the alchemy I once vowed to abandon.

It had been fifteen years since I last saw my sons fight beneath the sun of Rome.

Fifteen years since darkness haunted our every step.

Fifteen years of peace. Of love. Of family.

Amir and I had lived every one of those days together, without separation, without fear, free from the shadow of Salvatore’s name.

We had built a life we once thought impossible—a life where laughter echoed through our home, not screams—a life where we were no longer survivors but a family. .. whole.

Reyna was born that same year, conceived beneath the golden skies of Rome when I visited Roman and Marcellious. It was a moment of love, unity, and hope, and she became our light, our joy, the bond that made Amir and me believe—if only for a while—that we had outrun the shadows.

But shadows had long memories.

And I had long-kept secrets.

The air in the cellar was damp, tinged with earth and mildew, but tonight, it reeked of something harsher.

Smoke curled thick and black, acrid and suffocating, wrapping around me like the guilt I had carried all these years.

It clung to my skin, clothes, and soul—an old companion I learned to bear, hidden beneath practiced smiles and soft words.

The cauldron hissed and spat, the black liquid within swirling like ink in water—dangerous, volatile, forged not from weeks but years of secrets. Of forbidden work I swore to leave behind... but never truly did.

The scent of Noctyss petals, crushed bone, and sulfur hung heavy in the air, charring my lungs with every breath. It should have driven me away. It should have reminded me of the promises I made.

But I didn’t care.

I was so close to finishing what I started.

This wasn’t the poison crafted to end Salvatore—no. That was already hidden, waiting for its moment. This... this was something else—a failsafe. A final weapon only I understood. A creation meant to bend darkness back on itself—if it worked.

I knew the risk. I knew the cost.

And still... I couldn’t stop.

Then—

A strangled gasp behind me.

I froze.

The ladle slipped from my fingers, clattering against the iron rim. My heart slammed against my ribs as I turned, dread crawling up my spine like ice.

Amir stood in the doorway.

And everything shattered.

“Elizabeth.”

His voice cleaved through the thick air, cutting straight to the bone. My blood turned to ice.

The flickering firelight from the cauldron danced across his face. His shadow stretched long across the floor, and in his eyes—shock, fury... betrayal.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

He was supposed to be training with Reyna. I timed everything perfectly—except this.

“You claimed you needed air,” he said, stepping closer, his gaze a blade. “But this reeks of secrets—not fresh air.”

He stepped forward, and I instinctively stepped back, clutching the ladle tightly as if it could shield me.

“You weren’t supposed to see this,” I whispered. “You were with Reyna... Amir, please?—”

“How long?” he cut in, his voice like steel, eyes locked on the cauldron. “How long have you been doing this?”

His gaze swept across the mess of alchemical tools—powdered minerals, aged vials, bloodstained cloth. I couldn’t lie anymore.

Amir’s fists clenched, trembling with fury. “I forbade this,” he snarled. “All those years ago, I told you never to practice alchemy, that it would alert Salvatore, that he would sense it. That he would come for you.”

His voice dropped, low and deadly. “And you defied me.”

“I had no choice!” The words tore from my throat, my eyes stinging with tears. “I couldn’t stop without fulfilling my mother’s wish.”

Amir’s face twisted in confusion, in pain. “Your mother’s wish?”

“You didn’t see her,” I said, voice cracking. “You didn’t see what he did to her, Amir. Salvatore used her. Drained her. Every breath she took was soaked in agony, in torment. Her last words—her dying wish—were that I finish what she started. That I destroy him.”

Silence.

Amir stared at me, stunned. “Elizabeth... what are you saying?” His voice was softer now, raw. “Your mother knew Salvatore personally?”

My throat tightened. My body trembled. The truth clawed at my chest.

“Amir...” My voice broke again, hoarse with shame. “I’ve been keeping secrets from you. Since the day we met.”

His eyes darkened, a storm gathering just behind them. “Secrets.”

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling like a fraying thread. “Do you remember the night we conceived our sons? The night you told me your story—how you came from Solaris, how your realm was destroyed when Isabelle separated the blades?”

He nodded once, warily, his expression guarded.

“And I told you about my mother... Isolde Ravencroft.”

His eyes flickered, the name igniting a spark of recognition, a shadow of memory that hadn’t meant much to him—until now.

“You said you didn’t know her,” I whispered, the words barely forming as my throat tightened. “That she was just a Timehealer.”

Amir’s gaze didn’t waver. His voice was low, cautious. “Yes. I remember that night.”

I felt the weight of it then—the chasm between us, whittled by years of half-truths and omissions. My breath came shallow, and still, I pushed forward.

“Well... that night, when you opened up, when you told me about Solaris... about the Shadow Lords, Salvatore, and Lazarus, and how Isabelle shattered the realm by separating the blades...” I paused, my chest constricting.

“I already knew who they were. I already knew everything. Because my mother and I—” My voice broke.

“We spent years trying to perfect the Noctyss flower. Years... trying to neutralize their power.”

His jaw tightened, the fury in his eyes rising like a tide. “Tell me, Elizabeth,” he growled. “How is your mother connected to Salvatore?”

A piercing ache bloomed in my chest. There was no easy way to say it—only the truth.

“Long before I was born,” I said slowly, “before she lost herself in this world... my mother belonged to Salvatore.”

His expression twisted in disbelief. “Belonged to him?”

I forced the words out, every syllable tasting like blood. “She was his sex slave, Amir. In Solaris.”

His eyes ignited, blazing fury crackling through him like lightning. “What?”

“He used her,” I whispered, my hands shaking. “Her body, her mind, her soul. He fed on her suffering—drained her of everything she was to fuel his power. She was his, Amir. Until Isabelle found her... saved her. Brought her back to safety.”

I saw it then—the battle in his eyes, the collision of past and present. He knew the realm I spoke of. He had lived there.

“You had to know,” I said, voice cracking. “You lived in that realm—you must have heard something.”

Amir shook his head slowly, rage simmering beneath the surface.

“Elizabeth, during the chaos... the battles... the days leading up to the blades being separated, everything collapsed. My job was to train the army of darkness, to keep Solaris from crumbling. I didn’t have the luxury to.

.. indulge in what was happening beyond the war front. ”

I swallowed hard, blinking back tears.

Amir’s voice was tight, laced with disbelief and barely restrained fury. “Tell me, Elizabeth... if everyone’s memories were wiped, if no one remembers what happened, then how the hell did your mother know? How did she remember?”

“She didn’t have her memories,” I said, stepping closer. “Not until she found the note. In the alchemy book, you discovered... my mother had written herself a message, a desperate attempt to piece the fragments together. A message to herself to remember. To finish what she started.”

I could see his heart breaking in his eyes. But I couldn’t stop.

“When Isabelle saved her, they tried to find a way to destroy him. But Salvatore was impossible to kill—is impossible to kill. There’s no way to destroy a Shadow Lord. So they searched for another way to weaken and sever his power.”

I took a trembling breath. “That’s when Morgrath Severen came to them. He told them of a rare flower. The Noctyss flower. It could neutralize a Shadow Lord’s power, strip them of what made them invincible.”

Amir didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He was stone.

“My mother and I traveled to the Carpathian Mountains. We found the book. We found the flower. And we began to craft the poison together. We worked side by side for months—until the day it killed her.”

A tear slipped down my cheek. I didn’t wipe it away.

“She was going to test it on my father’s Timehunter Society,” I whispered, my voice hollow with the memory. “But it failed.”

Amir’s face shattered—grief and fury tearing through him like a storm unleashed. His breath caught, ragged. “And you continued?”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “I had to.” My voice cracked under the weight of it all.

“Her last breath—her final plea—was for me to finish what we started. To destroy him. I couldn’t stop, Amir.

Not when I had the chance to give her peace.

Not when her whole life was stolen, ravaged by Salvatore. ”

He stepped back as if the truth had struck him like a blow, his hand briefly gripping the doorframe to support himself. His eyes, once filled with love, now flickered with betrayal.

“I know I promised you,” I whispered, trembling. “I swore I would stop practicing alchemy and let it go. But I couldn’t. Not with her dying wish bearing down on me—constant, suffocating, like a breath I couldn’t release.”

Amir’s face twisted into a storm of rage and disbelief. “You lied.” His voice cracked like thunder—pained. “You lied for years. While I loved and trusted you, you were crafting a weapon behind my back.”