The door to the archives sealed behind her with a sound like a thousand whispers dying in the dark. Selene emerged into the torchlit tunnels, her breath ragged, her steps unsteady. The taste of ash clung to her tongue, the echo of the guardian's voice a blade in her mind:
"A mother who loves enough to burn the world."
She pressed her palm against the cold stone wall, the cut still bleeding from the oath mark she'd given to gain entry. Her blood had opened the archives. Her blood would free her son. But at what cost?
The vision wouldn't leave her. Malrik holding her child—their child—as if he were a trophy. His words: "A child born of fire and shadow will break the spine of kingdoms."
And worse—Rael's eyes in that vision. One silver. One gold. The same colors that now burned in her bond with Kieran.
Her child wasn't just hers. He was fate's weapon.
And she had no idea what Malrik had turned him into.
---
When Selene reached the surface, the night air hit her like a slap. Duskveil's towers glowed under twin moons, the city alive with revelry after the coronation—but Selene saw none of it. To her, the streets were rivers of smoke, and every face was a blur behind the single truth pulsing in her blood:
If I don't stop him, Rael will destroy everything.
She mounted her steed in silence, racing back to the palace gates with the urgency of a storm. The guards opened the gates without question, sensing the fire in her aura.
By the time she entered the war chamber, Kieran was waiting, golden eyes glowing under the map lights. He turned—and froze.
Her face was pale, her hair wild, her silver eyes burning like twin moons on fire.
"What happened?" he demanded, crossing the room to her. "What did you find?"
Selene dropped the bloodstained ring onto the table with a sharp clink.
"I know what Malrik did."
Kieran's jaw tightened. "Tell me."
She looked at him—really looked—and for the first time since she had taken the throne, there was no steel in her voice. Only raw, aching truth.
"My son is alive. But he's bound to Malrik by blood oath. His soul tethered. His will chained. And the Hollow Flame made him a weapon."
Kieran's breath came slow, controlled—but his hands curled into fists. "Then we break the oath."
Selene shook her head. "It's not that simple. The binding is sealed by birth blood. Which means…" Her voice cracked. "…the only one who can sever it is me."
Kieran cupped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Then we'll do it together."
"No." Selene pulled away, her hands trembling. "You don't understand. The guardian told me—I can't save him as queen. I can't save him as flameborn. To break the chain, I have to surrender everything I am. My title. My power. The bond…"
Her voice fractured on the last word.
Kieran's golden gaze darkened. "No. Don't say it."
"I might have to sever us, Kieran," she whispered. "If I stay bound to you, the oath will hold. And Rael will burn kingdoms to ash."
Silence. Heavy. Suffocating.
Kieran stepped back like the words had struck him. For a moment, the warrior in him cracked—and the man she loved stood bare before her.
"You're asking me to let you walk into the fire alone," he said hoarsely.
"I'm asking you to let me save my son," she replied, tears slipping free.
The chamber seemed smaller now, the map between them a battlefield of its own.
Finally, Kieran spoke, voice low and lethal. "If you think I'll let you walk away without me, Selene, you've forgotten who I am."
He turned, gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles bled.
"Tell me where Malrik is," he growled. "And I'll burn his Hollow Flame to the ground."
Selene closed her eyes. The truth pressed like a blade against her throat:
The war wasn't coming.
The war was already here.