The throne room trembled with the King’s rage, the oppressive weight of his magic pressing down on everything. Seraphine lay crumpled against the wall, her body bloodied and broken, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.
Every inch of her ached, but she forced herself to move, her trembling hands pressing against the cold stone as she pushed herself upright.
The King’s focus was on Misery, his dark magic swirling ominously around him as he loomed closer. Seraphine’s silver eyes darted toward the infant in Adrian’s arms, and then back to the King. She could feel the room’s energy shifting, the King’s fury feeding the shadows that curled and twisted around his throne. If she didn’t act now, none of them would survive.
Clenching her fists, Seraphine summoned the last vestiges of her magic. It flickered weakly at first, a pale, silvery light that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Pain lanced through her body as she reached deeper, pulling on reserves she hadn’t touched in years. Her lips moved silently, forming the words of an incantation. The air around her shimmered faintly, distorting as though reality itself were bending.
The King’s head snapped toward her, his eyes narrowing. “You,” he snarled, his voice sharp with contempt. “You think you can escape me?”
Seraphine forced herself to her feet, her knees shaking under the effort. “I think I already have,” she rasped, her voice defiant despite her condition.
With a final surge of power, the magic around her flared, enveloping her in a blinding light. The King roared, his hand outstretched as a bolt of dark energy shot toward her, but it was too late. Seraphine’s form shimmered and vanished, the magic carrying her away just before the attack could strike.
The force of the King’s magic collided with the wall, shattering stone and sending a shockwave through the room. His enraged roar echoed in the silence that followed, shaking the very foundation of the fortress.
“Coward,” he spat, his voice filled with venom. “You won’t get far.”
But his attention quickly shifted back to Misery, who knelt trembling on the floor. Her face was pale, her breaths shallow, and her body was wracked with pain. Despite her exhaustion, her eyes remained fixed on the baby, now nestled safely in Adrian’s arms.
The King’s lips curled into a cruel smirk as he approached her, his magic pulsing ominously in the air.
“You’ve sealed your fate,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “And now, you’ll die knowing you failed.”
Misery collapsed fully to the floor, her strength leaving her. Her arms stretched out weakly toward Adrian and the child, her vision blurring as tears streamed down her face.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Protect her.”
***
The King’s laughter was a dark, chilling sound that filled the throne room, his amusement at Misery’s desperation unrelenting. He raised his hand, and the shadows in the room coiled tightly around him, feeding the dark magic that now coursed through his veins.
His crimson eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he spoke the incantation that invoked the blood oath.
Misery’s body arched violently as the spell took hold, the dark magic tearing through her like fire. A scream tore from her throat, raw and filled with agony, as the magic burned through her every vein. Her hands clawed at the floor, her face contorted in pain as the King’s power consumed her.
Adrian froze, his mind racing. He held the baby tightly against his chest, shielding her from the dark energy that crackled in the air. But his focus was on Misery, whose life was slipping away before his eyes.
“Stop this!” he shouted, his voice breaking with desperation. “She doesn’t deserve this!”
The King turned his gaze to Adrian, his expression cold and unyielding.
“She made her choice, Adrian,” he said, his voice calm but laced with malice. “And now she pays the price.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened, his crimson eyes blazing with fury.
“You’ve taken everything from her!” he yelled, his voice trembling with rage. “You don’t need to do this.”
The King’s smirk returned, his enjoyment of Adrian’s despair evident.
“Oh, but I do,” he said smoothly. “This is what happens when you defy me. Let her serve as a warning.”
Misery’s screams grew weaker, her body trembling violently as the dark magic continued its relentless assault. She managed to lift her head slightly, her silver eyes meeting Adrian’s. Her lips moved, forming a single word: Please.
Adrian gritted his teeth, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He wanted to fight, to tear the King apart with his bare hands, but he knew that any rash action would cost them all their lives. He tightened his hold on the baby, her faint cries barely audible over the chaos.
The King’s laughter rose again, his hands glowing with dark energy.
“And now, the final stroke,” he said, his voice triumphant.