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9: Bound by the prophecy
Data de publicação:
2026-04-14 23:05:20
Último capítulo
SHACKLED TO THE SAVIOR 12. Breathe of fresh air
Different thought surge through Elena mind as she sat on the hatch.She thought of Caspian. His head hitting the marble. The blood spreading across the white stone. She thought of the way the Reaper had caught her and put a knife on her throat just before the shackle sealed on his wrist.She did not know his name.The man who killed Caspian. The man who carried her through the forest. The man who called her Elena when she woke up the night before. The man who took her all through the jungle.She got up.Her legs were shaky, but they held. She crossed to the door and pushed it open.The morning air hit her face cool and clean, smelling of earth and grain and something sweet she could not name. She stepped outside and stopped.The field stretched out before her, barley and green, swaying in a breeze that felt like nothing she had ever felt before. It was not the filtered air of the Palace. It was not the terror of the forest. It was just... morning. A morning like any other morning in a
SHACKLED TO THE SAVIOR 11. Uncertain dreams
Sloane felt a rare, cold spark of genuine unease.As a Reaper, he was the usher of the end. The one who closed the book. He understood the finality of death as a mercy. But a human who could not die? That was a glitch in the very design of existence.The Ouroboros hunted for immortality. This man had been living their dream as a nightmare."But how?" Sloane's mind raced through the lore. "No human soul can anchor itself to the physical plane for that long without—"A sharp, wet intake of breath cut through the tension of the room.On the pallet of furs, Elena's body convulsed. Her eyes snapped open, clouded with the lingering fog of exhaustion and the trauma of the forest. She looked like a trapped animal waking up in a cage.Sloane was on his feet before he could process the thought.He did not think. He just moved. He knelt at her side, his hand hovering inches from her shoulder, trembling slightly as if he were afraid his touch might shatter what was left of her.His heart that col
SHACKLED TO THE SAVIOR 10: cursed to live
The compound was lively to the brims. A sea of sweat, spilled ale, and raw merriment followed a hard harvest and a healthy birth. Outside the timber-framed walls of the forge, the air was thick with raucous laughter sharp and bright as a new blade cutting through the cooling evening mist."To Elias!" a voice roared. Wooden mugs thumped against a scarred oak table in a heavy, rhythmic beat."And to the boy! May his arms be as strong as his father's and his heart as steady as the anvil!"It was Elias's inner circle. Men he had bled and worked with for years, gathered to celebrate the arrival of his firstborn. Elias sat among them, a grin stretching across a face still smudged with the soot of his trade, now mixed with spills of wine and the grease of roasted meat.Inside the main house, his wife Melissa was resting. The room was a hive of midwives and well-wishers who had helped deliver the red faced miracle into the world. After years of prayers, the boy was finally here, asleep in her
SHACKLED TO THE SAVIOR 9: Bound by the prophecy
The Present – The Palace of OuroborosThe rotunda was a scene of carnage and cold.The smell of Valerius's burst eyes and scorched skin was thick, clinging to the heavy velvet cloths used to wrap his body. The Sanguine Machine was a jagged ruin of broken brass. Its primary lever was snapped, the gears shattered.Xalen walked around the High Priest's body. Her boots clicked rhythmically on the stone. She had just been coronated as the new High Priestess. Valerius had been her mentor. A man who was like a father to her after her own father's death.She glanced at his body one last time. Wretched. Dead. Wrapped in cloth on the floor."Take him away." Her voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling.The masked guards moved forward. They lifted Valerius's body and carried it out of the rotunda."Prepare a tomb in the Crypt of the Elders. He died reaching for the prophecy. He will be buried with honor." She paused. "He was a man who was too bold for his own blood. We must make sure his sacrifice i
SHACKLED TO THE SAVIOR 8. Bound by promise
A massive field of grain stretched out before him, the stalks swaying gently in a breeze that did not feel like a threat. A few yards away stood a large wooden barn. The scent of horses and old hay drifted from its open doors. In the center of the clearing sat a small, circular hut made of stone.Sloane tried to reach for his knife but his hands were heavy.He looked at the Shackle on his wrist. The gold was dim, cold, exhausted. The effort of the blast had drained it. The numbers were still frozen, but the light that usually pulsed beneath them was gone.He looked at Elena. She lay a few feet away, her face pale, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. She had passed out from the fall. He stared at her for a moment, something shifting behind his dead eyes.She had been through more in the last twenty-four hours than most people endured in a lifetime. And it would only get worse. As long as she lived, they would keep coming. The cult. The Reapers. Everyone who wanted to use h
SHACKLED TO THE SAVIOR 7: wind and barley
The tension in the air snapped.Balthazar lunged. His sword clashed against the iron mace with a sound that shook leaves from the trees. Vane and Kael followed, diving into a chaotic brawl with the other armored men.The forest floor became a whirlwind of black plate armor, swords, and chains. It was a two-way battle of hate. For a moment, the focus was off the prize.Sloane did not hesitate.He did not care about honor. He did not care about watching the fight. He was weak. The leash made him vulnerable. He would have to battle whichever side won, but not here. Not now.He scooped Elena onto his shoulder."Hold on." His lips brushed her ear.Before the Inquisitors or Balthazar could realize what was happening, Sloane turned and sprinted into the depths of the tall trees.Behind them, the sounds of killing continued. Metal against metal. Bone breaking. Men dying.Sloane ran. Elena's weight pressed against him. Her breathing was shallow, her skin still warm against his wrist. The golde
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