Chapter 89: Of Shadows and Promises

The moon hung low over the Midnight Vale, bathing the fortress in silvery light. From the stone bench near the western tower, Serena could see the woods stretching like a dark tide beneath the stars. The air was cool, crisp, but magic shimmered in it—something ancient, something watching.

She sat motionless, the sealed scroll clenched in her hand. Its golden ribbon pulsed faintly with heat, as though it were alive.

The message had arrived not long ago, carried on a raven with obsidian feathers and eyes too knowing. No signature, no crest. Just her name burned into the wax and a feeling—deep in her bones—that opening it would change everything.

But she hadn’t. Not yet.

Behind her, the soft crunch of boots on gravel made her spine stiffen, until she recognized the familiar rhythm.

“You haven’t opened it,” Elias said, approaching slowly. His voice was soft, the kind of gentle that made her heart twist. “Why?”

Serena didn’t look up. “Because I’m not ready for whatever truth is inside.”

“You’re never ready for truth. You just… open the door and let it wreck you.”

She exhaled shakily. “Have you ever feared you’re not enough for what the world expects of you?”

He sat beside her, close but not touching. “Every day. Especially now.”

She glanced at him. The blue of his eyes caught the moonlight, making them shimmer like frost. “You never show it.”

“That’s because I can’t afford to. But you… you’re allowed to be scared. You’re the one carrying the prophecy in her blood.”

Serena’s throat tightened. “I never asked for this.”

Elias gave a small, sad smile. “Heroes never do.”

They sat in silence, until a colder breeze whispered through the air—and a darker energy pressed against her senses.

She felt it before he spoke.

“You should open it,” Theron said, his voice edged like a blade wrapped in velvet. He stepped out from the shadows, black cloak trailing behind him, his presence coiling around them like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

Serena didn’t flinch. “Did you follow me?”

“Only because I knew you’d try to do something reckless. Again.”

Elias tensed. “She doesn’t need your policing, Theron.”

“And she doesn’t need your coddling either,” Theron shot back, eyes flaring gold. “She’s a Queen in waiting. Not a fragile doe.”

Serena stood abruptly. “Enough, both of you.”

They went quiet, but the tension between them buzzed like static in the air.

“I’m not your battlefield,” she said, voice steady despite the weight on her chest. “This war we’re about to fight—it’s not about which of you I’ll end up choosing.”

Theron’s gaze softened. “Maybe not. But I chose you long before fate named you the vessel of some ancient power.”

Elias rose as well, stepping closer, his tone quiet but firm. “And I never chose you because of prophecy. I fell for the girl who asked questions no one dared to ask. Who bled for a pack that didn’t understand her. Who still believed in people even after they betrayed her.”

Serena’s chest ached.

Theron moved in then, not touching, but close enough she could smell the heat of his skin—smoke and pine and something darker. “Whatever is in that scroll... we face it together. You’re not alone, Serena.”

She looked at them—two warriors. Two kings in their own right. One light, one dark. Both hers, in ways she never meant to invite.

And she was tired of pretending she didn’t feel the pull to both.

“Then don’t make me choose,” she whispered. “Not yet. Don’t make me break something that hasn’t had the chance to grow.”

Elias looked away, jaw tight, but he nodded.

Theron, ever the predator, only said, “We’ll wait. But not forever.”

Finally, her fingers broke the seal. The scroll unfurled itself midair with a gust of wind. Glowing script rose from the parchment like mist, curling in tendrils of gold and crimson.

“Midnight. Obsidian Grove. Come alone. Or not at all.”

Her stomach dropped.

Elias frowned. “They want you isolated.”

“They want to test me,” she murmured.

Theron stepped forward. “You won’t go alone. Let us flank you. Stay out of sight, but close enough to strike.”

Serena hesitated. “They’ll know.”

“Let them,” Elias said. “But if they so much as raise a hand against you…”

“They won’t get the chance,” Theron finished.

Her pulse pounded. “This is it, isn’t it? The beginning of whatever war’s been whispering at our heels.”

“No,” Elias said, placing his hand gently over hers. “This is your beginning. The rest of us—we’re just lucky to witness it.”

Theron caught her chin gently, making her look at him. “But we’ll kill anyone who tries to end it.”

There was nothing more to say.

Serena turned, scroll in hand, and walked toward the castle gates, heart thudding like thunder. Behind her, the two men she could not—and would not—choose, followed in silence.

They would protect her. Fight for her. Maybe even die for her.

But the path ahead... that belonged to her alone.