Seraphine knelt on the cold stone floor, her knees scraped raw, her arms trembling under the weight of her chains. Despite her weakened state, she forced herself upright, meeting Adrian and Misery’s gazes with a defiance that hadn’t yet been extinguished.
Adrian stood stiffly, his shoulders rigid, his crimson eyes betraying nothing. Misery, at his side, looked less composed, her expression flickering between pity and uncertainty. Behind them, the King reclined in his throne, a shadowy figure radiating satisfaction, his cruel smile an ever-present reminder of their predicament.
“Don’t trust him,” Seraphine said, her voice hoarse but unbroken. The words cut through the room like a blade. “He’ll destroy you. Just as he destroyed me.”
Misery’s breath hitched, and she took a small step forward. “We can’t just leave her like this,” she whispered, her voice filled with urgency and something close to desperation. She glanced at Adrian, searching for an answer, for some indication that he agreed with her.
Adrian caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Misery,” he said softly, his tone a warning. But his eyes stayed fixed on the King, cold and calculating.
The King said nothing, his grin widening as he observed the scene before him. His amusement hung heavy in the air, adding to the suffocating pressure of the moment.
Seraphine’s chains rattled as she shifted slightly, her eyes locking onto Misery’s. “Don’t let him twist you into something you’re not,” she said, her voice steady despite her obvious exhaustion. “You’re better than this. Both of you are.”
Misery turned to face her fully, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “You betrayed us,” she said, her voice trembling with anger and grief. “You betrayed Eryon. You nearly got us all killed. Do you think I’ve forgotten that?”
Seraphine flinched, but only slightly. “I did what I thought was right,” she said quietly. “I made mistakes, yes, but my intentions were never to harm you. I was trying to protect us all, including Eryon.”
Misery shook her head, her teeth clenched. “And yet here we are. Because of you.” Her voice wavered as she took another step closer. “You don’t understand. We’ve already lost too much because of you. And if we don’t—”
She stopped herself, her voice cracking. Her hand instinctively went to her swollen belly, and her next words were quieter, almost pleading. “I can’t let him hurt my child, Seraphine. I can’t.”
Seraphine’s expression softened, her fierce resolve giving way to something more tender. “I understand,” she said. “But this—this isn’t the way, Misery. If you do this, you’ll lose a part of yourself you’ll never get back. You’ll become what he wants—a pawn. Don’t let him win.”
Misery closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” Seraphine pressed, her voice firm despite the desperation creeping into it. “You can fight back. Together, you and Adrian—”
“Stop,” Misery snapped, her eyes flashing open. “Stop trying to manipulate me. You don’t get to tell me what’s right or wrong. Not after everything you’ve done.”
Seraphine’s shoulders sagged, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. “If this is truly what you believe, then so be it,” she said quietly. “But know that whatever happens next… it’s on your hands.”