“Wrong? You’re damn right it’s wrong!” Isla’s voice erupted, a guttural snarl escaping her throat. Her grief and rage boiled over as Seraphine claimed Eryon as her son. Her claws extended, her wolf instincts taking full control. “He’s my son!” she roared, launching herself at Seraphine with unrelenting fury.
Seraphine didn’t flinch. With a fluid motion, she waved her hand, and a ripple of dark magic exploded outward, sending Isla staggering back. Isla caught herself mid-air, landing on all fours, her eyes glowing gold with fury.
Draven rushed to Isla’s side, his powerful hands gripping her arms as she prepared to lunge again. “Isla, stop!” he shouted, his voice trembling with emotion. “This won’t help Eryon!”
But Isla broke free from his grip, her tear-streaked face filled with raw fury. She turned back to Seraphine, her voice breaking as she screamed, “You stole him from me! You turned him into a monster!”
Seraphine’s expression remained composed, but her silver eyes sparkled with contempt. “A monster? No, I’ve made him a god.”
Lyra rushed forward, grabbing her mother’s arm in an attempt to hold her back. “Mom, please! Don’t do this!” Her voice wavered, her own tears spilling freely. Adrian quickly stepped in, positioning himself between Lyra and the escalating confrontation to shield her from potential harm.
Eryon, still kneeling, clutched his head as if the weight of the transformation was fracturing his thoughts. “Stop!” he roared, his voice reverberating with unnatural power. The sound froze everyone in place, even Isla.
Eira, watching from the shadows, finally intervened. Her sharp chant cut through the chaos, and threads of magic slithered through the air, binding Seraphine and Eryon together in a shimmering cocoon. “Enough of this!” she hissed, her voice dripping with authority.
With a final gesture, Eira activated her teleportation spell. The cocoon of magic flared brightly, and in an instant, Seraphine and Eryon vanished, leaving the room eerily silent.
Isla collapsed to the ground, her strength drained by despair. Draven knelt beside her, pulling her into his arms as her sobs wracked her body.
Lyra watched helplessly, her chest heaving with suppressed cries. Adrian rested a hand on her shoulder, his presence grounding her. “We’ll bring him back,” he said firmly, though the words felt hollow.