Kael's POV
We crashed into a graveyard.
Old tombstones jutted from the ground like broken teeth. Mist curled around our feet. And everywhere—everywhere—I felt the presence of death magic, thick and choking.
"Where are we?" Aria gasped beside me, still clutching the crystal that had transported us here.
"Nowhere good." I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't support me. The poison from the last realm was still in my system, mixing with the curse, tearing me apart from the inside. "We need to move. This place—"
A figure materialized from the mist. Then another. And another.
Not ghosts. Worse.
Necromancers.
"Well, well," a woman's voice purred. "What do we have here? An Oracle and a War Prince, falling right into our territory. It's like the gods have answered our prayers."
She stepped forward—tall, elegant, with black robes and eyes that glowed with unnatural green light. Behind her, six more necromancers emerged from the mist, all watching us with hungry expressions.
"I'm Morgana," the woman said. "And you're trespassing in the Dead Lands. The price for that is usually your life. But for you two?" She smiled. "I think we can negotiate something more... valuable."
"We're just passing through," Aria said, helping me to my feet. Through the bond, I felt her fear battling with determination. "We don't want any trouble."
"Oh, but trouble has already found you." Morgana gestured, and the mist thickened. "You see, we've been following your story with great interest. The Oracle who broke an impossible seal. The War Prince cursed to die if he loves. It's quite romantic. And quite useful."
"Useful how?" I demanded, gathering what little power I had left.
"Your curse," Morgana said simply. "It's one of the most complex pieces of divine magic ever created. If we could study it, understand how it works..." Her smile widened. "We could recreate it. Weaponize it. Imagine—a curse that punishes love itself. The applications are endless."
"You're insane," Aria said.
"I'm practical." Morgana's eyes fixed on me. "The curse is killing you anyway, War Prince. Why not let it serve a purpose? Let us study you as you die. Let your suffering advance our knowledge. And in exchange, we'll let your Oracle go free."
"No," Aria and I said at the same time.
Morgana sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. Pity. We could have done this peacefully."
She raised her hand, and the dead rose.
Skeletal hands burst from the ground, grabbing at our ankles. Aria screamed and stumbled. I pulled her close, silver fire erupting from my free hand to burn away the reaching bones.
But more kept coming. Dozens of skeletons, climbing from their graves, their empty eye sockets glowing with Morgana's magic.
"Take them alive," Morgana commanded. "I want them intact for study."
The necromancers moved as one, their death magic swirling around us like a net. I threw up a shield, but I was too weak. The poison, the curse, the constant fighting—it was too much.
The shield cracked.
Aria grabbed my hand, and I felt her trying to channel Oracle power through our bond. But she was exhausted too, drained from Marcus's crystal and the multiple realm jumps.
We were finished.
Then someone laughed.
Not Morgana. Someone else.
A figure dropped from the sky—literally dropped, landing in the middle of the graveyard with enough force to crack the ground. She wore starlight armor and her violet eyes blazed with amusement.
Lyssa.
"Did someone order a rescue?" she asked cheerfully. "Because this looks like a rescue kind of situation."
"Lyssa!" Relief flooded through me. "How did you—"
"Followed the power signatures. You two leave quite a trail." She drew two wicked-looking blades. "Now, let's even these odds, shall we?"
She moved like lightning, cutting through skeletons and forcing the necromancers back. It gave us breathing room, but not much.
"There's too many," Aria said. "Even with Lyssa—"
An explosion rocked the graveyard.
We all turned. In the distance, I saw them—Theron's forces, pouring through a portal. At least fifty warriors, all armed, all hunting for us.
And leading them was Theron himself.
"No," I breathed. "Not now. Not here."
"Oh, this is getting good," Morgana said, actually clapping her hands. "The Starfire King joins the party. Tell me, should I fight you for the prisoners or make a deal?"
Theron's cold gaze swept the graveyard. When he saw me and Aria, he smiled.
"Keep the War Prince if you want," he said to Morgana. "Study his curse. Weaponize it. I don't care. But the Oracle comes with me."
"I don't think so," Lyssa said, positioning herself between us and everyone else. "They're under my protection now."
"Your protection means nothing," Theron said. "You're outnumbered fifty to one."
"I like those odds." Lyssa grinned. "Makes it interesting."
But even she couldn't fight everyone. Not Theron's army and the necromancers and the endless undead.
We were trapped in a graveyard with enemies on all sides and no way out.
Through the bond, I felt Aria's desperation. Felt her searching for a solution, for anything that could save us.
Then I felt her decision crystallize.
"No," I said, knowing what she was thinking. "Aria, don't—"
"I have to." She pulled away from me, and the distance made the bond scream in protest. But she kept moving, walking toward Theron with her hands raised. "I'll go with you. Just let them live."
"ARIA!" I tried to follow, but Lyssa held me back.
"Don't be stupid," she hissed. "That's what he wants."
"I don't care!" The curse flared as my fear for Aria overwhelmed everything else. "I won't let him take her!"
Theron smiled as Aria approached. "Smart girl. I knew you'd see reason eventually."
"You promise to let them go?" Aria asked. "Kael and Lyssa both?"
"I promise." Theron held out his hand. "Come with me now, and I'll spare them. You have my word."
Aria looked back at me, and through the bond I felt everything she was feeling—love, fear, regret, determination.
She'd made her choice.
She'd chosen my life over her freedom.
"Don't trust him," I called out, my voice breaking. "Aria, please—"
"I know," she said softly. "But I'd rather gamble on him keeping his word than watch you die fighting."
She took Theron's hand.
Power surged—a binding spell, wrapping around Aria, suppressing her Oracle abilities. She gasped but didn't fight as golden chains manifested on her wrists.
"NO!" I broke free from Lyssa and ran toward her, but Theron's warriors formed a wall. Silver fire exploded from my hands, but I was too weak. They deflected it easily.
Theron pulled Aria close, his smile victorious. "Thank you for making this easy, brother. I was prepared for a fight. This is much better."
He started backing toward his portal, taking Aria with him.
"Wait!" Morgana called out. "We had a deal! I helped trap them here!"
"Did you?" Theron glanced at the necromancers. "I don't recall agreeing to anything. Feel free to take the War Prince if you can catch him."
He stepped through the portal with Aria.
But just before it closed, Aria's eyes met mine. And through the bond, I felt her push something—knowledge, power, a final gift.
The location where Theron was taking her.
A way to find her.
Then the portal snapped shut, and she was gone.
The bond stretched thin but didn't break. I could still feel her, distant but alive. Terrified but determined.
"ARIA!" I screamed, but she couldn't hear me anymore.
Morgana's necromancers closed in from one side. Theron's remaining forces from the other.
Lyssa grabbed my arm. "We have to go. NOW."
"I'm not leaving without her!"
"She gave herself up so you could live!" Lyssa shook me hard. "Don't make her sacrifice meaningless! We'll get her back, but not if you're dead or captured!"
I wanted to argue. Wanted to fight through everyone, tear open a portal, chase after my brother and take Aria back.
But I was barely standing. The curse was eating me alive. And even through my rage and fear, I knew Lyssa was right.
If I followed now, I'd just get killed. And then no one could save Aria.
"I'll find you," I whispered, knowing somehow she'd feel it through the bond. "I swear I'll find you."
Lyssa pulled me toward a hastily opened portal as the necromancers and remaining warriors closed in.
We fell through just as skeletal hands grabbed for us.
We landed in a cave—dark, cold, hidden. Lyssa's emergency safe house.
I collapsed immediately, the curse and poison and sheer exhaustion finally overwhelming me.
"How long do I have?" I asked.
Lyssa checked me over, her expression grim. "Hours. Maybe less. The curse is accelerating. Fighting, using power, feeling terror for Aria—it's all making it worse."
"Then I have hours to find her."
"You can't even stand!"
"I DON'T CARE!" The cave shook with my power. "She surrendered herself for me. She let Theron take her so I could live. I will not abandon her!"
Lyssa was quiet for a moment. Then: "I know where Theron's taking her. The Obsidian Fortress. His stronghold in the Dark Realm. It's impregnable. Guarded by hundreds of warriors. Protected by blood seals that kill anyone who tries to breach them."
She met my eyes.
"Going there is suicide. Even if you weren't dying from the curse. Even if you weren't poisoned. Even with an army at your back—which we don't have—it would be suicide."
"I don't care."
"I know." She smiled sadly. "That's why you're going to die, and she's probably going to die too, and this whole thing is going to end in tragedy just like last time."
"It's not like last time." I forced myself to sit up despite the agony. "Last time I tried to cheat death and it killed her. This time, I'm willing to face death to save her. That's different."
"Is it?" Lyssa challenged. "Because from where I'm sitting, you're still a man who loves a mortal woman, and that love is still going to destroy you both."
Maybe she was right. Maybe this was just history repeating itself. Maybe Sera and Aria were just different versions of the same tragedy.
But as I felt Aria through the bond—felt her terror as Theron dragged her deeper into his fortress, felt her fighting not to break, felt her holding onto hope that I'd come for her—I knew one thing for certain.
I would save her or die trying.
And maybe, just maybe, that was what the curse had been trying to teach me all along.
Not that love was weakness.
But that love was worth dying for.
"Help me up," I told Lyssa. "We have a fortress to infiltrate."
"We?"
"You're not staying behind."
Lyssa sighed. "You know what? Fine. I've lived three thousand years. Might as well go out doing something monumentally stupid with an old friend."
She pulled me to my feet.
"But first," she said, "there's someone we need to see. Someone who might—just might—be able to slow down the curse long enough for you to reach Aria."
"Who?"
"The Blood Witch of the Northern Wastes." Lyssa's expression was grim. "She's insane, dangerous, and she'll want payment we probably can't afford. But she's the only one who might know how to buy you more time."
Through the bond, I felt Aria scream.
Theron was hurting her.
"Then let's go," I said, silver fire erupting along my arms despite the curse's protest. "Because every second we waste is another second she suffers."
Lyssa nodded and opened a portal to the Northern Wastes.
As we stepped through, I made a silent promise to Aria:
Hold on. Just hold on a little longer.
I'm coming for you.
Even if it kills me.
Especially if it kills me.
Because you're worth dying for.