Emily's scream split the chamber as rough hands hauled her toward the altar. Her wrists burned against the iron cuffs, every thrash and twist useless against their strength. The stone table loomed ahead, smeared with the stains of sacrifices past, its edges sharp as if carved by fangs.
"No! Please, no!" Her voice cracked, swallowed by the chanting.
At the far end of the circle, Fvep Zync sat upon his throne carved of bone and obsidian, a cloak of crimson draping his broad shoulders. His presence swallowed the firelight, making the torches appear weak, trembling against his authority. Age had not softened him; his face was sharp, angular, every line a mark of cold, calculated cruelty. His eyes gleamed like garnets in the flickering light, and when he spoke, the room obeyed without hesitation.
"The line must bind," Fvep intoned, his voice deep and ceremonial, carrying through the hall. "Blood must answer blood."
The robed figures surrounding the altar rippled in assent.
Emily was shoved to her knees at the edge of the circle. Cold stone bit into her skin. She wanted to look away, but some morbid force held her gaze pinned.
From the circle, Elena stepped forward.
Emily's breath hitched. "Elena?"
Her friend's eyes gleamed unnaturally bright, her lips pulled into a cruel, predatory smile. She looked reborn as a completely new person, terrible and beautiful.
"Elena," Emily gasped, choking on her own sobs. "Help me!"
Elena tilted her head, studying her like a curious animal. "Help you?" she repeated softly, amusement lacing her words. "Why should I help you, when I've finally found where I belong?"
The crowd murmured, approving.
The goblet was pressed into Elena's hands, filled with liquid dark and thick. She lifted it with reverence, her eyes never leaving Emily's face.
Emily writhed violently, screaming, but the guards held her fast. Fvep's pale smile deepened, indifferent to her terror.
"Drink, daughter," he commanded. "Claim what remains of your mortal ties, and sever them with blood."
The moment the goblet tilted toward Elena's lips, a movement in the circle caused Emily's heart to stutter.
Breckt stepped forward, hood low, shoulders rigid, golden eyes blazing faintly in the torchlight. He wasn't chanting. He wasn't moving with the others. He was watching her.
The leader's head turned slowly, teeth glinting in the torchlight. "Rezcox," Fvep Zync said, voice sharp as a blade. "Why do you break the rite?"
Every eye snapped to Breckt. His hood fell back, revealing his pale, hard face.
"Because," he said, low and dangerous, carrying across the chamber, "she is not meant to die here."
A silence fell, thick and electric.
Emily's pulse hammered. She couldn't breathe. For the first time since being dragged into this nightmare, someone had intervened. Someone had dared to speak against Fvep Zync. But the patriarch's smile returned, slow, venomous, and deliberate. "Then perhaps you wish to take her place."
The circle erupted in snarls, claws flashing, fangs bared, and Emily realized the chamber had become a battlefield waiting to ignite.