The fortress swallowed us whole when we returned.
The gates clanged shut behind, the iron teeth gnashing closed with a sound like finality. The torches along the walls hissed, their flames guttering against the night wind. Soldiers parted as Kaylan strode in, their eyes sliding away from her silver hair, her blood-stained armor, her silence.
I followed in her shadow.
The rogue's whispers still clung to my skin, as if his dying breath had soaked into my veins. Seraphina. The queen in the dark.
My shadows twitched, curling around my wrists, restless as snakes. I kept them tight, buried, though it felt like holding back a tide.
Kaylan did not look back at me once.
We climbed the stone steps, the walls sweating with damp. Every step pulled me closer to Marcus, and my chest grew tighter. He had sent me to bleed. He had wanted to see my shadows bite. What would he want now?
The doors to the great hall yawned open.
And there he was.
Marcus sat upon the throne carved of obsidian and bone, high-backed, crowned with jagged points. Shadows pooled around him as if they were extensions of his cloak. His eyes caught mine instantly, red gleaming like embers banked in ash.
The chamber was nearly empty save for the guards along the walls. Too empty.
He had been waiting.
Kaylan bowed low, kneeling at the foot of the steps. Her head bent. Her voice was steady. "The rogues are ash, my lord. Judgment delivered."
Marcus did not look at her. His gaze remained locked on me.
"Rise," he said. His voice was soft, but it filled the hall like smoke.
Kaylan stood. I stayed frozen until his hand shifted ever so slightly, beckoning.
"Come forward, Aria."
The leash in my throat tugged. I obeyed.
My footsteps echoed across the stone floor, the sound too loud, too hollow. When I reached the base of his throne, I dropped to one knee, as I had been taught, though the movement scraped like rust through my bones.
Marcus's silence stretched. Then, at last, he spoke.
"Tell me."
I lifted my head. His eyes pinned me like knives through glass.
"What did he say?" Marcus asked.
My heart stumbled. He knew. He always knew.
Kaylan stiffened beside me. Her jaw clenched, her hand twitching near her blade.
I swallowed. "He said…" My voice wavered, broke. I forced it steady. "That betrayal is weakness. That Marcus spares nothing."
The lie tasted like ash.
Marcus's expression did not change. But his shadows stirred, thickening around the throne, rippling like water disturbed.
"Is that all?" he asked.
The silence pressed on me like stone. My shadows trembled, restless. The rogue's last words screamed in the back of my skull. Seraphina rises. The queen in the dark.
If I spoke them, I would cut the air open. If I spoke them, Kaylan would strike me where I knelt.
"Yes," I said, the word raw. "That is all."
Marcus studied me, long enough that my lungs burned. Then his smile curved faintly, sharp as broken glass.
"Good."
The shadows around him withdrew, curling back into their places like obedient hounds.
Kaylan exhaled, though she tried to hide it.
Marcus leaned forward, resting one hand on the armrest, the other hanging loose like a predator too calm. "You stepped through shadow in the chapel. You bled it. Controlled it. Did it feel… intoxicating?"
I froze.
The memory of Shadowstep still lingered in my body — that dizzy rush of displacement, the world tearing open and snapping shut around me. Terrifying. Liberating.
"Yes," I admitted, because anything else would be a worse lie.
His smile widened, slow, patient. "Good. You are learning."
Kaylan bowed her head. "She is dangerous."
Marcus's gaze slid to her, amused. "So are you, Kaylan. That is why I keep you close."
Her eyes flashed, but she did not speak.
He rose from the throne, his cloak spilling like liquid night. His boots clicked against the stone as he descended the steps. Each movement was too deliberate, too silent.
When he stopped before me, he reached out, and for an instant, I thought he would touch my face. Instead, he caught my chin with cold fingers, lifting my eyes to his.
"You were born for this shadow," he murmured. "Do not waste it."
Then he released me, turning away, his cloak sweeping. "Kaylan. Take her back. She bleeds well, but she is not finished yet."
The dismissal cracked the air.
Kaylan bowed, motioned sharply for me to rise. I followed her from the hall, my legs unsteady.
But Marcus's voice followed, echoing through the stone, soft as a curse:
"She will be sharpened until she cuts."
The corridors twisted like veins through the fortress. Kaylan's silence was a blade at my back. I could feel her fury radiating, sharp, choking.
At last, she shoved me into a narrow chamber — not my cell, but a side hall lined with rusting chains. The door slammed shut behind us.
She turned on me, eyes blazing silver.
"What did you hear?" she demanded.
I froze. "What—"
"Do not lie to me." Her daggers were already half-drawn. "I saw his lips move. I saw your face. What did the traitor say?"
My mouth went dry. "Nothing."
The blade was at my throat before I even saw her move. Cold metal kissed skin, pressing just enough to make a bead of blood rise.
"You listen to me, girl." Her voice shook with fury. "You will never speak that name. Not to Marcus. Not to anyone. Do you understand?"
Her eyes bored into mine, hard enough to crack stone. "Names are power. Names are poison. Forget it."
But I couldn't. Even with the blade at my throat, even with her rage pressing me down, the rogue's whisper still coiled in my chest.
Seraphina.
I didn't nod. I didn't shake my head. I just stood there, trembling, the shadows curling tighter and tighter around me until the air itself seemed to darken.
Kaylan's nostrils flared. She shoved me back, releasing me. "Pathetic," she spat. "If Marcus doesn't cut your throat, the dark queen surely will."
The words slipped out before I could stop them. "So you admit she's real."
Her hand cracked across my face, sharp enough to send me staggering.
The taste of blood filled my mouth.
Kaylan's voice dropped to a hiss. "Never speak her name again."
She stormed from the chamber, slamming the door.
I collapsed against the wall, heart hammering. My cheek burned, my throat bled, but none of it compared to the fire in my chest.
The shadows writhed, restless, alive. Not for Marcus. Not for Kaylan.
For her.
Seraphina.
The queen in the dark.
I curled my knees to my chest, the stone biting cold, the chains above rattling softly in the draft.
For the first time since Marcus had chained me here, I understood something dangerous.
He wasn't the only one who wanted to sharpen me.
And when the chains broke, the Court wouldn't be enough to hold me.