Page 48 of The Syndicate’s Shadow Heiress (Branche de Lune Syndicate #1)

THE GODS NEVER LEFT

Kali’s Emotional State:Steady on the surface. But her magic knows. The Hollow is holding its breath. The calm is a lie, and the truth is about to tear through the veil.

T

he war room crackled with energy. Solen stood in front of the map table, threads hovering like constellations between his fingers, each one pulsing with the residue of recent choices.

Chaos, rewritten. Fate, resisting. “The pattern is breaking,” he murmured.

“The Spiral Mouth is no longer the anchor.”

Irina paced near the weapons wall, arms crossed tightly. “What is?”

Kali didn’t answer. Her shadows had already curled tighter around her boots, uneasy. Her bonded mark with Lev still glowed faintly beneath her shirt, but something under her skin was off-kilter. Like the world had shifted half a degree sideways, and no one else noticed.

Astraeus leaned against the far wall, half-shifted, dragon eyes narrowed. “The Hollow is changing again. There’s movement beneath it. Something old.”

A low growl came from Kota—one of the dogs still curled up near the war room doors. Nickel lifted her head and whined.

Kali’s heart began to hammer. Then the Stitcher convulsed .

Everyone spun toward it.

The creature, half-forgotten and stitched from voidbone and fire, let out a sound like a thousand broken threads unraveling at once. It reached into its own chest, ripping something free.

A glowing key. Woven from dragonbone, thread, and Omega flame.

It held it up, trembling.

“The Seal was never whole,” it rasped. “The throne was never empty.”

And then, the Gate opened. Not physically, but through the veil.

A voice spoke. Not Azareal. Not a vampire. Not the Forgotten Court.

Something older. Something primordial. A god buried in Thread and Time.

It spoke in Zarokian:

"Aven'shira thol’kai dravem, kres'kai valen suun draem ." Then, a heartbeat later, the translation peeled itself through the veil:

“Keeper, you’ve sewn your crown into the skin of the dead. Now bleed it back to me.”

Kali gasped.

The war room shattered.

A pulse of magic detonated from the Hollow Gate itself, ripping through the foundations of the estate. The dogs barked furiously. Then everything exploded into motion .

Kali’s body was no longer inside.

She was outside, teleported violently to the pasture, at the heart of her circle. Her hands hit the earth. Her breath caught.

Bentley was already there, snorting clouds of fury, flanked by the other horses and dogs. The Hollow Gate loomed behind them, pulsing in wrong-colored light.

The veil shimmered.

And Silas stepped through…

His body was the same…. his voice was not.

“Keeper,” he said in a voice woven with thousands. “You thought this Gate served you.”

Kali staggered backward a step, caught off-balance by the rip in the world. Her dogs snarled in unison. Bentley bucked, sensing it before anyone else. Her bond marks seared white-hot across her chest. Her magic recoiled violently, shrieking through her blood.

This was not her Silas.

And Astraeus, who had followed her outside in dragon form, did not wait.

His fire detonated toward the impostor, screaming like a comet, but the fake Silas caught it in his palm. Smiled and reached for Kali.

And then, the Gate opened.

Not with a sound. Not with a warning.

With a command.

A voice spilled through the veil, ancient, genderless, divine .

“Keeper, you’ve sewn your crown into the wrong bones, Keeper. Let’s see what bleeds when we cut.. Now bleed it back to me.”

Kali staggered as the floor cracked beneath her feet. Shadows howled. Threads recoiled.

And Silas stepped through.

But it wasn’t him.

His body…yes.

His eyes…wrong.

His soul…borrowed.

“Keeper,” he said, his voice a thousand stitched screams. “You thought this Gate served you.”

Kali took a step…just one.

Bentley reared outside, shrieking. The dogs howled in chorus. Astraeus roared. Irina raised her blades.

Bentley lunged, teeth bared, trying to reach her, but the Gate swallowed her faster than grief.

But it was too late.

The thing in Silas’s skin reached for her, and Kali vanished.

Not teleported.

Not pulled.

Unmade .

Her bonded mark seared white-hot across Lev’s chest. He dropped to his knees, gasping.

Thorne’s threads snapped mid-air, recoiling like grief made visible.

Solen bled from the nose, whispering her name like a prayer to a god that wasn’t listening.

Astraeus let out a scream that broke the sky.

And then…. Silence.

The Gate whispered, one final phrase..

"She chose the crown… but not the one we gave her."

Silence followed.

Not peace.

The kind of silence that only comes before something breaks wide open.

Behind the veil…Kali screamed.

And the Gate smiled. Again