Rain steamed where it struck the ground around them.
Elliana moved closer to Draven, careful now—measured in a way she hadn't been moments before, as though sudden motion itself might shatter him. The shadows followed, lowering and thickening, folding into a dark cradle around his broken body.
She knelt beside him.
"Honey…" Her voice softened instantly, the lethal edge she'd worn snapping inward like a blade sheathed too fast. Her gloved hands hovered just above him. "Are you okay?"
Her eyes traced him—too fast, too precise.
"You don't look okay," she whispered.
Her gaze dropped.
"…your arms—"
Her lips pressed together.
The air around her deepened.
Shadow mana surged—not exploding, not flaring, but pouring from her, like ink bleeding through water. The ground beneath her knees blackened, veins of darkness spreading outward in slow, crawling lines.
Elliana inhaled once.
Then, slowly—deliberately—she turned her head.
Cedric felt it before she even finished looking at him.
A chill tore through his body—not from cold, but from recognition. The primal understanding that something far above his station had noticed him. Lightning flickered along his armor. His grip tightened on his blade without conscious thought.
Elliana's silver eyes locked onto him.
When she spoke, her voice was no longer a whisper.
It was ice given language.
"You have some nerve," she said quietly.
The shadows behind her rose higher, stretching, sharpening, their edges vibrating with restrained violence.
"You, dear—"
Draven coughed.
A wet, broken sound.
"Mom…"
Elliana froze.
The shadows stilled instantly, as if obeying a command never spoken aloud. Her attention snapped back to him, fury collapsing into raw, aching focus.
"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting…?" Draven rasped. His vision swam, rain blurring the world into streaks of silver and red. "And—hah—Lucifer… Elenya…"
His breath hitched.
"…where are they?"
For the first time since she arrived—
Elliana didn't answer immediately.
Her jaw tightened. Just a fraction.
Her hand finally lowered, resting against his cheek, shadows cushioning the motion—gentle in a way that felt almost impossible given what she was holding back.
"I'm here because you needed me," she said softly.
Her thumb brushed away rain—or blood. It was hard to tell which.
"As for Lucifer and Elenya…" Her eyes flicked up for the briefest instant—not toward Cedric, but toward the forest beyond. Toward distance. Toward complications.
"They're alright," she said. "Safe enough."
A pause.
"Right now."
Her gaze returned fully to Draven, and the world narrowed again to just the two of them.
"You don't need to worry about them," she murmured. "Not anymore."
Behind her—
Cedric took one involuntary step back.
Because the shadows were rising again.
And this time—
They were no longer restrained.
Rain continued to hiss against shadow and scorched earth.
Draven swallowed, his jaw tightening as her words sank in.
"Safe…?" he rasped. His crimson eyes sharpened despite the pain. "Safe where—with who?"
Elliana didn't look away from him when she answered.
"I gave them to Lyriana and Aldric."
The name hit him harder than Cedric's blade ever had.
Draven's teeth clenched. His shadows—thin, instinctive things—twitched weakly around his broken form.
"You left them with those two?" His voice cracked, anger forcing breath into lungs that barely wanted to work. "Why the hell would you do that, Mom?"
The temperature dropped again.
Elliana's head snapped toward him.
Not in fury—but in something sharper. Older. A mother's glare honed by centuries and too many battles survived.
Draven felt it immediately.
CRAP.
His eyes widened. "—I mean—sorry," he said quickly, the words tumbling out rough and breathless.
Elliana's gaze sharpened further.
Her eyes narrowed—not with rage, but with something colder and far more dangerous: authority.
"Is that how you speak to me now," she asked quietly, each word placed with surgical precision, "your mother?"
The question wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
The shadows answered for her—curling inward, tightening, as if the world itself had just been reminded who stood at its center.
Draven stiffened.
Every instinct screamed at once—fight, apologize, retreat, don't push this.
"—No," he croaked immediately. "No, it's not. I—" He swallowed hard, chest hitching. "I shouldn't have said it like that."
For a heartbeat, Elliana said nothing.
She simply looked at him.
Then she leaned closer, her forehead nearly touching his, her voice dropping into something low and unyielding.
"I will tolerate fear," she said.
"I will tolerate pain."
"I will even tolerate anger."
Her thumb brushed through his rain-soaked hair—tender, despite the weight behind her words.
"But I will not tolerate disrespect from my own child," she continued, "especially when I am standing here holding you together."
The shadows eased.
Just slightly.
Draven exhaled shakily. "…Yes, ma'am."
That earned him the faintest huff of breath—almost a scoff.
"Good," she said.
Then her expression shifted—not soft, but steadied. Focused.
Elliana exhaled slowly through her nose, shadows easing just enough that the air stopped screaming.
"Lyriana and Aldric were the only ones in position," she continued, voice firm. "That is why your siblings are with them while I dealt with that bastard Ivan for laying his hand on my baby."
Draven swallowed, then muttered, barely audible, "…Ivan."
Elliana leaned closer, until her forehead nearly touched his, her presence blotting out the storm itself.
"And because if any danger so much as thinks about touching Lucifer or Elenya," she said, her voice dropping to something lethal, "it will not survive long enough to finish the thought. Help will not be needed."
Her eyes burned into his.
"I would arrive immediately."
Draven grimaced, jaw tightening. "Hmph… I guess you're right," he said aloud.
But unease churned beneath the words.
Knowing that doesn't sit right with me. Not one damn bit. Those two clearly had something personal with Ivan—and I don't trust beef mixed with my siblings' safety.
He looked back up at her, concern cutting through the pain.
"Mom—what about Ivan? What happened? You didn't fight him, did you? You're not even supposed to be here—"
He winced, then hurried on.
"And Ivan—where is he? Doesn't matter. We need to find Lyriana and Aldric fast. Make sure Lucifer and Elenya are safe. We can't—if he gets cut off—"
Elliana's hand brushed his hair back gently, shadows cushioning the motion. The tenderness was jarring against the promise threaded through her tone.
"Honey, don't worry yourself," she said. "I didn't leave them there lightly."
Her gaze sharpened.
"I left them there because I was sure they'd be safe. Even if Lyriana and Aldric were to die," she said calmly, "and even if Ivan followed—"
A faint, terrible smile touched her lips.
"I marked him."
Draven stilled.
"If he gets anywhere near them," she continued, "I'll know immediately."
She met his eyes fully now, no distance between them.
"So you don't have to worry," Elliana said softly.
"You just have to leave it to me."
Behind them, the storm groaned—low and uneasy.
Cedric remained frozen in place, lightning crawling uncertainly along his blade.
Because now he understood.
He hadn't just fought a son.
He had crossed a line drawn by a mother who never missed—
and who had already decided what came next.