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Chapter 11 - Broken Oaths and Burning Blood

Chapter 11: Broken Oaths and Burning Blood

Ash rained over the rooftops of Valemire.

The hunter attack wasn't random—it was coordinated, precise, and ruthless. Explosions gutted the lower districts, and by the time the Council's private guard responded, three blood houses lay in ruin.

Elara, Kael, and Lucien ran through the wreckage as sirens wailed and screams rose with the smoke.

This was no uprising.This was war.

The Betrayer's Mask

They found the first traitor within the House of Ironfang, a werewolf noble stronghold. The gates had been blasted open—not from outside, but from within.

Kael knelt beside the body of a young sentry, throat torn open.

"This was one of ours."

Elara stared at the sigil scorched into the ground. Not the hunters'.

A witchmark.

Lucien narrowed his eyes. "Someone within the Circle helped them."

Betrayal didn't come with a scream—it came with silence, and the burn of old trust turned to ash.

Love Like Lightning

In the chaos, Kael and Elara took shelter in an abandoned bell tower. Rain poured through the broken glass as thunder roared in the distance. She sat, soaked, shaking—not from fear, but from the weight of the prophecy.

"Do you regret it?" she asked.

"Regret what?"

"Saving me. Believing in me. Letting yourself care."

Kael hesitated. Then gently took her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"I've been fighting my whole life, Elara. But only for the past few days have I known what it's like to fight for someone."

Their kiss was fierce. Hungry. Desperate. A vow made with lips instead of swords.

But unseen above them, in the tower's rafters… someone was watching.

A Shadow in the Mirror

Lucien walked alone down the crimson hallways of his family's estate. His mind was a battlefield: loyalty to Elara, suspicion toward Kael, and fear of what he himself might become.

He entered the reliquary, where ancient vampire relics were kept under spell-locked glass.

In the center, he found the mirror.

It wasn't made of silver—it rejected all reflection. When he stepped in front of it, the glass rippled.

And in its depths, he saw a crown of thorns, soaked in blood… resting on his own head.

"Destiny," a voice whispered behind him, "doesn't ask. It commands."

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