The grand hall of Blackthorn Manor seemed colder than ever as Verita was dragged before Jevan. The towering pillars, adorned with crimson banners emblazoned with his sigil, loomed like silent judges. The heavy scent of burning candles mixed with the metallic tang of fear. Verita's boots scuffed against the marble floor as the guards shoved her forward, their grips unrelenting.
Jevan stood at the head of the long marble table, his tall, lean frame wrapped in his signature black suit. His cold blue eyes bore into Verita with unspoken fury, his lips curling into a predatory smile that sent a chill down her spine. Behind him, the massive stained-glass window cast fractured shadows across his sharp features, making him look more monster than man.
"You've been busy," Jevan said, his voice smooth, laced with venom. He stepped forward, each step deliberate, the echo of his polished shoes reverberating in the vast chamber. "Trying to escape. Plotting with Esira. Defying me." He stopped inches from her, towering over her, his gaze searing into her. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"
Verita straightened her shoulders, refusing to cower under his gaze. "You can't keep me here forever."
Jevan tilted his head, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Forever isn't necessary, my dear. Just long enough to get what I need."
Her jaw clenched, but she didn't speak. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Jevan circled her, his voice soft but cutting. "You have power, Verita. Untamed, raw, extraordinary power. And yet, you squander it. But don't worry—I'll make sure it doesn't go to waste."
The guards flanking her tightened their grip, but Jevan raised a hand, and they released her. She stumbled but caught herself, glaring at him. "I'll never help you."
Jevan's smile vanished, his expression turning to ice. "You will," he said, his tone deadly calm. "Because if you don't, Esira will pay the price."
At his command, the guards dragged Esira into the hall. His gray eyes were defiant despite the fresh bruises marring his chiseled face. His dark hair was disheveled, his normally steady composure replaced with a quiet fury that radiated off him.
"Let him go," Verita snapped, her voice cracking with emotion.
Jevan raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "That depends on you. Cooperate, and he lives. Resist, and..." He trailed off, his meaning clear.
Verita's fists clenched at her sides. The room seemed to close in around her, the weight of Jevan's ultimatum pressing down on her. Her gaze flicked to Esira, who shook his head subtly, his expression firm. Don't give in, his eyes seemed to say.
But could she risk it?
Verita sat on the edge of the cot in her cell, the cold stone pressing against her back. The faint hum of the magical wards thrummed in the background, a constant reminder of her imprisonment. Her hands trembled as she clenched them into fists, the weight of Jevan's ultimatum pressing down on her.
She thought of Esira, his battered face and unyielding eyes. He had told her not to give in, but how could she stand by while he suffered because of her? The memory of Jevan's smirk, his calm cruelty, made her stomach twist. She hated him—hated the way he wielded power over them both, hated the way he made her doubt herself.
Her thoughts drifted to her family, to the quiet life she had lost. Her aunt had always told her that her magic was a gift, but now it felt like a curse. If only she had been stronger, smarter—maybe she could have escaped before things had spiraled this far.
The door to her cell creaked open, and a guard stepped inside, his face obscured by shadows. "You have a visitor," he said gruffly.
Verita tensed, her heart racing. She didn't know whether to hope or fear.
The lower dungeons were colder than the upper levels of the manor, the air thick with dampness and the stench of mildew. Verita was led down the narrow corridor, the faint flicker of torches casting long shadows on the walls. When she reached the end of the hall, the guard unlocked a heavy iron door and motioned for her to enter.
Inside, Esira sat against the wall, his hands bound in front of him. His gray eyes met hers, and a flicker of relief crossed his bruised face. "Verita," he said, his voice hoarse but steady.
She dropped to her knees beside him, her fingers brushing against his as she examined his bindings. "Are you okay?"
"I've been worse," he said with a faint smirk, though the pain in his eyes betrayed him. "What are you doing here?"
"The guard owed you a favor," she said quietly. "I convinced him to let me see you."
Esira jaw tightened, and he glanced toward the door. "It's a risk. If Jevan finds out—"
"He won't," she interrupted. "But we don't have much time. He's planning to use the relic soon, isn't he?"
Esira nodded, his expression grim. "He's accelerating the timeline. Whatever he needs from you, he plans to take it—by force if necessary."
Verita's stomach churned. "Then we have to stop him. There has to be a way out of here."
Esira hesitated, his gaze searching hers. "There's a passage," he said finally. "Hidden beneath the manor. But it's dangerous—warded, and likely watched."
"I don't care," Verita said, determination hardening her voice. "We have to try."
The hidden passage was exactly as Esira had described: narrow, dark, and lined with faintly glowing runes that pulsed with a malevolent energy. The guard had left them at the entrance, providing them with only a map and a whispered warning.
"Stay close," Esira said, his voice low as he led the way. His movements were careful, each step deliberate as he avoided triggering the wards. Verita followed close behind, her eyes scanning the runes for any sign of danger.
The air grew colder as they descended, the weight of the magic pressing against Verita's chest. She could feel her own power steering in response, a faint warmth that seemed to push back against the oppressive energy.
"These wards," she said quietly, "they're designed to suppress magic. But I think I can disrupt them."
Esira glanced back at her, his expression cautious. "Are you sure?"
"No," she admitted. "But it's our best shot."
Verita knelt beside one of the glowing runes, her fingers hovering just above its surface. She closed her eyes, reaching for her magic. It flickered and pulsed, responding to her will, and she channeled it into the rune.
The glow dimmed, then flared brighter before extinguishing entirely. The passage fell into darkness, but the oppressive weight of the wards lifted.
"You did it," Esira said, his voice filled with awe.
Verita opened her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Come on. We're not out yet."
They pressed forward, the faint glow of the map guiding their way. But just as they neared the exit, a loud crack echoed through the tunnel. The walls trembled, and the runes flared to life, their light blinding.
"Run!" Esira shouted, grabbing her hand as the tunnel began to collapse around them.
They sprinted toward the exit, the sound of falling stone deafening. Just as they reached the end of the passage, they burst into the open air, tumbling onto the forest floor.
For a moment, they lay there, gasping for breath. Then, Esira sat up, his eyes scanning the trees. "We're not safe yet."
Verita followed his gaze, her chest tightening as she saw the faint glimmer of torches in the distance. Jevan's guards were closing