32. THIRTY TWO
THIRTY TWO
THE RETURN
S ome of the Ecliptuari moved toward the doors, their steel swords flashing as they vanished into shadowy hallways. The ones left behind watched with their soulless eyes, and their whispers travelled through the air in a language I could not understand.
Flames roared higher as I pulled uselessly at the bars, my lungs burned from the smoke.
Seraphina’s eyes scanned the chamber, her torch blazing brightly.
Two knives glowed faintly, slid into the slits carved into the floor, almost as if they were the key to this caged prison.
I staggered, my eyes stinging. I blinked to clear my vision and focused on the knives.
When the Ecliptuari drove in the blades, the bars had risen.
Now, through the haze, I understood. If I pulled them free, the bars would fall .
I dropped to my knees, feeling the sting of blood from the cuts on my trembling hands.
My fingers wrapped around the first hilt. It burned against my wounds, but I resisted the pain. I pulled with everything I had. The knife tore free, causing the bars to shudder and shriek. The bars shook, so did I, but not from fear. Fear had already had its turn. I ignored the panic and focused.
I lunged for the second knife, my body shaking with adrenaline as the smoke clawed at my lungs. I gritted my teeth, pressed my weight down hard, and summoned every ounce of strength I had. The hilt seared my palm, but I wrenched it free.
The floor groaned loudly, the bars convulsed, and then a seam split open.
The iron shrieking as the cage began to release.
Under my feet, the invisible hands that had been tugging at me finally let go.
For a moment, I felt unnaturally cold, even though flames surrounded me.
I swore I saw a silhouette rise from the floor and escape into the air.
“They’re coming,” Fionn said, sniffing the air and moving toward the outer circle.
"The Cohort of the Gate will break the circle and stop the offering of the Marked before it reaches Vareth"
A flare from the torches illuminated the feral look on his face, casting him in a demonic glow, as if the flames themselves had twisted him into darkness.
“Something isn’t right about this,” Fionn sneered, glaring at the others with his eyes locked on Seraphina.
“What did you change for the Seraphel Order, Seraphina?"
Everyone turned toward the stone doors as an explosive rumble tore through the chamber. Seraphina paled at the sight of the oozing cloud. She quickly turned to Fionn.
"Watch your tongue," she hissed. "We don't have time for your judgment. The Cohort of the Gate Order must have felt Tilly moving through the energy planes. There are many of them, too many to fight. We must leave now!”
Fionn's stare stayed fixed on Seraphina. “Gatemen don't arrive. They're called," he said warily.
I refused to look at the brothers. Their masks were down now, revealing their faces, but I didn’t care.
This was my chance to escape. Cillian's voice still echoed charmingly in my head, igniting my rage because I knew it was all a lie.
Forget him. I needed to focus on getting out.
I surged through the smoke and flames toward the largest door.
“Tilly, leave.”
The word wasn't a plea, it was a command from Cillian as he ran toward me.
This time, he wouldn't take me so easily.
His hand reached out to grab me, but I quickly pulled away, daggers blazing in my grip. I swung the first blade, driving it into his shoulder before yanking it back.
He staggered back, clutching his shoulder, his eyes wide with shock. Blood seeped through his fingers, and disbelief washed over his face. That moment of hesitation gave me the chance to run. Good. I hoped he bled to death for what he’d done to me.
I managed only a stumble of a run before he seized my wrist, yanking me through the wreckage with a speed that stole the air from my lungs. “Move quickly,” he Ordered.
I stumbled to keep up, boots slipping on stone, my lungs burning. His grip was iron, his pace relentless. Like he could outrun what he fucking did to me. Yet here he was, still thinking I belonged to him.
The walls shimmered, bent, and then became transparent. Reality itself was collapsing around us, but all I could think about was escaping and how I wanted him dead.
“Let go, you creep!” I wriggled with fury. I could run on my own .
His fingers tightened, reminding me he was still in control.
“We’ll die before we allow the Gatemen to take you,” Cillian said.
“The binding of our marks and the freedom of Elora is what we fight for. There’s no other path now.”
My stomach churned. If I was going to escape, I needed to be able to run on my own.
“Let me go!”
He stopped so suddenly that I almost crashed into him. He turned, and the look in his eyes took my breath away. He looked angry with me, as if I had done something wrong. I shot my anger back at him.
“You—you were going to.”
“To what?” he interrupted, stepping closer until my back pressed against a cracked pillar, leaving me nowhere to retreat. His shadow loomed over me, completely enveloping me.
“Sacrifice you or keep you alive? How has the madness of the mark twisted this in your mind, Tilly?”
His gaze flicked over my face, assessing me as if I had offended him.
“I have gone to impossible lengths to keep you alive,” he said. “I told you, if you choose me, I will protect you at all costs.”
My life wasn't a bargain.
“And yet,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous quiet.
“When you danced, you stood there and looked right through me as if I were nothing.”
Something ugly flashed in his caramel eyes, the speckles of green darkening with rage. He was jealous and furious with me. It didn't feel like it belonged on him, not when he carried himself like a king in his own court. It made him look almost human.
Worse still, his hand slid higher up my arm, not gently, but more possessively, as if warning me what would happen if I pulled away.
“You think I didn't notice?” he murmured .
“You think I didn't see the way he held you? The way you let him in?”
Now he wanted to justify it all because I had danced with Fionn.
“I didn’t let—” I tried to retort.
“Don’t insult me.” His voice sharpened, cutting me off. “And now you want to look at me like I'm a monster.”
He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. He was twisting everything in his mind, changing reality and turning the concept of sacrificing me into one of salvation.
On the one hand he wanted to be my protector, yet he was willing to let me die. That kind of manipulation tactic made my blood run cold. Underneath his charm and anger, I detected darkness. I could see he might loosen his grip at any moment, leaving me vulnerable to Vareth and his world.
His thumb pressed against my pulse point. Did he realize how tightly he was holding my wrist?
“I could have kept you alive,” he said.
He was losing control. I could see it and feel it.
“Is this you talking,” I whispered, “or is it your God, Vareth?”
His eyes flickered for a second, confusion flashing across his face. “You must decide what you are to me. If you choose me like you said when you were behind the bars, we still have time to bind together.”
I shot him an angry look. After everything that's happened, he still dared to believe our marks would bind us. Before I could stop myself, I stepped closer to him, driven by the need to make my feelings unmistakably clear. He doesn’t get to manipulate me again.
A whisper curled through my mind.
“Manipulate him.
” Get out of my head.”
“Tell him you love him. It will buy you time.”
“Stop. Now”.
“Fool him the way he fooled you… and the rest of us.”
That’s when I realised it wasn’t just one voice...
I was done playing games. I refused to become a manipulator like him or anyone else. I needed him to understand exactly how I felt, without lies, without masks. “You decided what I was to you when the madness flared in you and sacrificed me to your God. So, understand this:
“Mark my body,
“Cage my soul,”
I lifted my chin, letting the truth cut clean between us.
“I will never love you. I will never be an offering to you or your Varethym God.”
He looked stunned. Seizing the moment, I summoned all the strength I had, kneeing him hard where it would hurt most, and pulled my hand free from his grip. I ran. I had to get out of here alive.
“We’ll die before we allow them to take you,” Cillian said, buckled over, still watching me.
“The binding of our marks and the freedom of our world is what we exist for. There’s no other path now.”
I ignored him and raced toward the rear doors, refusing to look back while the manor groaned and shifted on its foundation. I gasped as the interiors continued to fade and bleed into another dimension.
Servants fled in every direction, their cries echoing through the collapsing halls. Beyond the manor walls, the toll of church bells carried from Dornbruck Village, frantic and uneven, as though the village itself was sounding an alarm.
Outside, the roiling black head of a mushroom cloud settled over Sternwacht Cliff, effectively blocking us from approaching the vortex.
The ozone odour was so strong I felt faint.
As the darkness consumed the land, a violent spark of lightning opened a blazing rent from which several towering figures emerged.
Obscured by the swirling darkness, it was impossible to see much beyond their sweeping black cloaks.
The leader moved forward while the others remained by the opening. A spectral wind howled like a chorus of tormented souls, sending a shiver of terror through my body and into my bones.
From the shadows near the edge of the Sternwacht Grounds, dozens of Ecliptuari stood unmoving, their masks glinting faintly. They did not flee like the servants. They stood with swords drawn, watching, silent, as if awaiting a command from forces unseen to fight if commanded.