CHAPTER 29
THE PROPHECY THAT REFUSED TO DIE
Long before the world learned to call him a ruler, before fear carried his name across realms, the Evil One had once walked among the ancestors of the Holy Land.
In those ancient days, the Holy Land was not ruled by power alone, but by balance. Every clan knew its place.
Every spirit obeyed laws older than time itself.
Greed was forbidden, jealousy was condemned, and no one—no matter how powerful—was allowed to place themselves above the will of the ancestors.
But the Evil Ruler had broken those laws.
Jealous of the honor given to others, hungry for authority he had not earned, he sought to bend sacred rules to his desire. When the elders confronted him, he refused to repent. When the ancestors stripped him of protection, rage consumed him.
Banished.
Chased from the Holy Land alongside the servants who shared his corruption, he descended into the lower realms searching for a place to claim as his own.
That was when he found it.
Hidden deep beneath layers of shadow was a peaceful land ruled by another ancient clan—quiet beings who had kept to themselves for centuries. They were not warriors. They were not conquerors. They were guardians.
Instead of asking for refuge, the Evil Ruler slaughtered them all.
Blood soaked the soil. Spirits screamed as they were torn from their vessels. And as the ruler of that land lay dying, his strength fading into the earth, he laughed—not in mockery, but in certainty.
"You may take our land," the dying ruler whispered, blood filling his mouth, "but you will never escape justice."
The Evil Ruler sneered, unmoved.
"Our blood will be avenged," the ruler continued. "A child will be born of a powerful woman from the human world. That child will carry the strength of many clans. Through that child, your reign will end."
The Evil Ruler laughed.
A dying man's ego, he decided. A desperate curse meant to frighten him.
"No one from the human world can destroy me," he declared. "Only the God in heaven stands above me."
And so he buried the prophecy beneath centuries of cruelty.
For ages uncounted, he deceived nations, possessed the weak, corrupted the powerful, and destroyed families without mercy. Entire bloodlines vanished under his influence. He became myth. He became terror.
Until Linah.
The moment the Evil Ruler sensed the power awakening within her, memories he had long forgotten clawed their way back into his mind. When he learned of her lineage… when he learned of her bond with Mako… when he discovered she was carrying a child—
The prophecy returned like a blade to his throat.
Panic turned into fury.
If Linah and Mako's child was born, his end was certain.
His failed attempts to kill Linah, to miscarry her pregnancy, only deepened his rage.
When he discovered that Mako had taken Linah away, not in fear but in strategy, the Evil Ruler realized something that unsettled him deeply.
Mako was not running.
Mako was protecting.
They had not left the human world. They had not crossed realms.
They had only left Africa—the land heavy with ancestral power, where attacks were easier to launch through possession and blood ties.
Their destination was deliberate.
A five-star hotel standing beside the Red Sea.
To ordinary eyes, it was luxury. To the unseen world, it was sacred ground.
Mako understood what many rulers failed to grasp—water remembered. The sea carried ancient spirits older than kingdoms, spirits that did not bow to darkness easily. Near the Red Sea, the water spirits were strongest, alert, and ever-moving.
Here, Linah and her unborn child were not alone.
Even so, danger lingered.
Linah often felt it in the quiet moments—when the breeze shifted without warning, when the sea grew restless at night, when her dreams carried whispers she could not fully understand. Her hand would rest on her stomach, her heart heavy with a fear she could not name.
Mako never left her side.
He watched her closely, noticed every change in her breathing, every distant look in her eyes.
He ensured the guards were rotated carefully, trusted only those whose loyalty had been tested by blood and oath. Even within the safety of the hotel, he remained vigilant.
The water spirits circled them unseen, guarding them like a hen shielding her chicks beneath her wings.
This decision enraged the Evil Ruler beyond measure.
Africa had been fertile ground for manipulation—ancestral connections, emotional bonds, bloodline weaknesses. But here, near the sea, his reach weakened. His servants failed to penetrate the defenses. Possession attempts dissolved like mist.
Yet the Evil Ruler smiled darkly.
Every power had a weakness.
And Linah's weakness was not her body.
It was her heart.
Far away, in the quiet village she had left behind, Linah's parents lived unaware of the storm gathering around them. The Evil Ruler turned his gaze toward them, his lips curling with cruel satisfaction.
"If I cannot reach the child," he murmured, "I will reach the mother."
And for the first time since his banishment, the prophecy no longer felt like a distant threat.
It felt close.
Too close.
END OF CHAPTER TWENTY NINE