Seris POV
"That's Corwin." My voice sounds far away, hollow. "My mate. The one who burned me."
Vaelor's jaw tightens. "He's leading the army?"
"I don't understand." My hands start shaking. "He thinks I'm dead. He saw the bones in the ashes. Why would he—"
"Someone told him you survived." Vaelor's voice is hard as stone. "Someone who wants you badly enough to bring an army to my doorstep."
Kael curses under his breath. "We count at least two thousand wolves, Your Majesty. Maybe more. We have five hundred warriors, max."
Two thousand. Against five hundred. We're outnumbered four to one.
"Can we win?" I whisper.
Vaelor doesn't answer right away. His gray eyes scan the approaching army, calculating. Finally, he says, "Depends on what they want. If they're here to negotiate, maybe. If they're here for war..."
He doesn't finish, but I understand. We'll all die.
"This is my fault." Guilt crushes my chest. "They're here because of me. I should just—I should go to them. Maybe if I surrender, they'll leave you alone—"
"Absolutely not." Vaelor grabs my arm. "You're not sacrificing yourself to buy us time. That's not how this works."
"But everyone will die!"
"Everyone might die anyway," Vaelor says bluntly. "But at least we'll die fighting, not cowering. And you're not ready to face them. Look at yourself, Seris. You can barely control your flames for five minutes. What do you think they'll do to you out there?"
He's right. I know he's right. But watching that army march closer makes me want to run straight to them just to make this stop.
"Get her inside," Vaelor orders Kael. "Lock down the fortress. Full defensive positions. Archers on the walls. Close all gates except the main entrance."
"What are you going to do?" Kael asks.
"Meet them at the gates." Vaelor starts walking toward the stairs. "If they want to talk, we'll talk. If they want to fight..."
"You'll give them a fight," Kael finishes with a grim smile.
Vaelor pauses and looks back at me. "Stay inside. No matter what happens, don't come out. Promise me."
"I—"
"Promise me, Seris."
The intensity in his eyes makes me nod. "I promise."
But even as I say it, I know it's a lie.
Mira drags me back to the fortress. Warriors are running everywhere, grabbing weapons, taking positions. The whole place transforms into a war zone in minutes.
"This is insane," Mira mutters, leading me to a room deep in the fortress. "An army showing up out of nowhere. Someone planned this perfectly."
"Lyria," I say suddenly.
Mira stops. "What?"
"My best friend—former best friend. She's the one who framed me for the plague. She wanted Corwin for herself. She must have told him I survived. She's probably with that army right now."
Mira's expression darkens. "When this is over, remind me to help you kill her."
Despite everything, I almost smile. "Deal."
She leaves me in a stone room with two guards posted outside. I pace back and forth, my mind racing. Through the narrow window, I can see the army has stopped just outside arrow range. They're setting up camp.
They're not attacking immediately. Why?
An hour passes. Then two. The sun starts setting, painting the sky orange and red.
Finally, I hear horns. The call for parley.
I press my face against the window. From this height, I can barely see the main gates. But I see Vaelor walking out with Kael and ten warriors behind him.
They're so outnumbered it's not even funny.
From the army, a group rides forward. I recognize Corwin immediately—his blonde hair, his proud posture. But there are others with him. Including...
My stomach drops.
Lyria. Riding right beside Corwin like she belongs there.
And behind them, someone else. A woman in a black cloak. Even from this distance, I feel wrong energy coming from her. Dark. Twisted.
"Who is that?" I whisper.
The guards can't hear me, but one of them follows my gaze. His face goes pale. "Witchblood," he mutters. "They brought a witch."
Ice floods my veins. Witches are dangerous. Powerful. If they have a witch with them, this isn't just about taking me back.
This is about destroying me.
I watch as Vaelor and Corwin meet in the middle. They're too far away for me to hear what they're saying, but I can read the body language. Corwin is gesturing wildly. Vaelor stands perfectly still, arms crossed.
Then Corwin points directly at the fortress.
At me.
Vaelor shakes his head. Even from here, I can tell he's refusing whatever Corwin asked for.
Corwin's face turns red. He's shouting now. The witch in the black cloak steps forward and says something. Vaelor's whole body tenses.
Something bad just happened. I can feel it.
Vaelor turns and walks back toward the fortress, his warriors following. Corwin watches them go, then returns to his army.
No deal. They're going to attack.
Ten minutes later, Vaelor bursts into my room. His expression is thunderous.
"What did he want?" I ask immediately.
"You." Vaelor's voice is tight with barely controlled rage. "He wants you handed over by dawn tomorrow. If we refuse, they attack."
"Then let me go—"
"They're not taking you to punish you, Seris." Vaelor cuts me off. "The witch with them? Her name is Morgana. She's a blood witch—one of the most dangerous types. She wants to drain your Flamebinder power and transfer it to herself."
Horror washes over me. "She can do that?"
"With the right ritual? Yes. It would kill you slowly. Painfully. And then she'd have all your power plus her own magic."
I sink onto the bed, legs shaking. "So what do we do?"
"We prepare for war." Vaelor kneels in front of me so we're eye level. "Tomorrow at dawn, they'll attack. We'll hold them off as long as we can. But Seris, I need you to listen carefully. If the fortress falls, if they break through our defenses, Kael will get you out through the escape tunnels. You run and you don't look back."
"I'm not leaving you to die for me—"
"Yes, you are." His hand cups my face. "Because if you die, everything we've fought for means nothing. You have power that could change the world, Seris. I won't let some blood witch steal that. Promise me you'll run if it comes to it."
Tears blur my vision. "Vaelor—"
"Promise me."
"I promise," I whisper.
He stands to leave, but I grab his hand. "Will we survive this?"
Vaelor is quiet for a long moment. Then, "I don't know. But I'll die before I let them take you."
He leaves. The door locks behind him.
I spend the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, listening to warriors prepare for battle. Every sound makes me flinch. Every shadow looks like death coming.
Just before dawn, I finally fall into a restless sleep.
I dream of fire. Of burning. Of Corwin's face as he lights the pyre.
But this time, when the flames consume me, I don't wake up.
Instead, I hear a voice. A woman's voice, ancient and powerful.
"Daughter of flame. The time has come to choose. Hide your power and let others fight for you? Or claim what is yours and burn your enemies to ash?"
I try to answer, but I can't speak.
"When dawn breaks, child, you will face your past. And in that moment, you must decide—are you the girl who kneeled on the pyre? Or the queen who rose from its ashes?"
I wake up gasping.
The first rays of sunlight stream through my window.
Dawn has arrived.
And outside, war drums begin to beat.