49. Rylan
49
RYLAN
T he air is overflowing with the scent of ancient dust, blood, and something darker—something old, something watching.
Seraphina stands before the altar, her breath uneven, her skin pulsing with eerie blue light. The sigils carved into the stone door behind her respond, shimmering, as if they are alive, waiting for her.
I know this is wrong.
I know this place wants something.
And then Nhilian steps forward, his smile dripping with malice.
"You can feel it, can’t you?" he murmurs, voice slithering through the cavern. "The price that must be paid."
My blood runs cold.
Seraphina stiffens beside me, but she doesn’t speak.
She already knows.
Nhilian circles the room, hands clasped behind his back, like this is all just a game to him.
"This is not just a cave," he continues, his voice rich with satisfaction. "This is a tomb. A place built on sacrifice, on blood and bone."
He pauses, head tilting toward Seraphina.
"And the door will not open without it."
I move.
Fast.
Faster than thought, than reason.
My dagger is in my hand, my body lunging forward to sever his throat?—
But my limbs lock.
My vision darkens at the edges.
A force slams into me, invisible and crushing, locking me in place.
Magic.
Dark, twisted magic.
Nhilian turns, watching my struggle with an almost bored expression.
"You should have known, Rylan," he murmurs. "Did you think I wouldn’t study the same magic your father wielded? I was disappointed, though. I learned only a fraction of it."
I snarl, trying to push past the weight crushing my limbs.
But my body is bound.
Magic hums through my veins, pulling me down, locking me out of reach.
And Seraphina?—
She stands too still.
Her hands are clenched, but she does not struggle.
Nhilian smiles at her.
"You knew, didn’t you?" he asks, almost amused. "That your life was never yours to keep."
She doesn’t speak.
She doesn’t look at me.
"You are the key," Nhilian continues, stepping closer. "The price. The sacrifice."
"No," I snarl, my voice a growl of pure rage. "You will not touch her."
But Seraphina…
She exhales.
And then she nods.
I thrash against the magic.
My vision is red, blinding.
"Seraphina—"
"Rylan," she says softly.
And in her eyes, I see it.
There's no regret or fear.
Acceptance.
No. No, no, NO!
I won’t let this happen.
I can’t.
I will burn the world before I lose her.
Nhilian moves like lightning.
A dagger flashes in his hand.
I shout, fight, struggle?—
But the magic tightens around my throat, my chest, holding me in place.
The blade sinks into her flesh.
Deep.
Precise.
Straight into her stomach.
Seraphina gasps—a sharp, soft sound.
And the world shatters.
“No!” The sound tears itself from my throat, burning like fire.
I feel the blood before I see it.
It spills from the wound in her abdomen, staining the front of her tunic, slipping through Nhilian’s fingers as he wrenches the blade free.
Her body trembles, sways?—
And then she falls.
I lose myself.
The magic binding me snaps as my rage obliterates reason.
I lunge.
I don’t think.
I don’t plan.
I kill.
Nhilian’s men barely have time to react before I tear through them.
I rip my blade across a throat, feel the hot splash of blood coat my hands.
I want them all dead.
I want them to suffer.
But Nhilian?—
He is already stepping back, slipping into the darkness.
"You’re too late," he murmurs, his voice almost soft, mocking.
I drop to my knees beside her.
Blood seeps into the stone beneath her, pooling, spreading toward the altar like an offering.
I press my hands to the wound, desperate, frantic.
"Seraphina," I whisper.
Her lashes flutter.
And she smiles.
She smiles.
Like it’s okay.
Like she doesn’t regret this.
Like I won’t die from this.
I choke on my breath.
"Stay with me."
Her fingers twitch.
But she is slipping.
The light is fading from her eyes.
And I am losing her.
No.
NO.
I will not let this happen.
I will not let her die.
I don’t care what it costs.
I turn my head, staring at the ancient altar.
The blood has reached its base.
It soaks into the stone.
The sigils glow brighter, pulsing.
Seraphina gasps softly, her body shuddering in my arms.
I can’t lose her.
I won’t.
And so I make a choice.
A choice that will damn me.
A choice that will change everything.