Chapter 27: The Girl Beneath the Fortress

The child was crying beneath the fortress.

Kael heard her clearly.

The sound slipped through the cracks in the stone, soft and frightened, yet powerful enough to silence everyone in the chamber.

Azrael turned toward the door.

“My daughter.”

He moved before anyone could stop him.

“Wait!” Kael shouted.

Azrael ignored him.

Black smoke swallowed the ancient being, leaving only the fading echo of his footsteps.

Kael pushed himself upright, but the moment he tried to follow, pain tore through his chest.

The second heartbeat had returned with a vengeance.

Seraphine caught his arm.

“You cannot go after him.”

“Then tell me what my mother meant. Why shouldn't I trust the girl?”

Seraphine's gaze dropped to the broken pendant.

“I don't know.”

Kael pulled away.

“I'm tired of that answer.”

“I am telling you the truth.”

“Then why do you look frightened?”

His grandmother said nothing.

Kael studied her face and noticed something he had missed before.

She wasn't looking at the broken pendant.

She was looking at the black mark on his wrist.

And she was afraid of it.

“What aren't you telling me?”

Before Seraphine could answer, the chamber doors burst open.

Rowan rushed inside, his sword drawn.

“Your Majesty, we have a problem.”

Kael straightened.

“Another one?”

“The fortress's lower levels have been sealed. Something has awakened beneath us.”

“Azrael?”

Rowan shook his head.

“No. Whatever it is, even his power cannot reach it.”

A deep rumble passed beneath their feet.

The silver flames along the walls turned blue.

Then a voice echoed through the fortress.

“Blood of the fourth line. Return what was stolen.”

Seraphine closed her eyes.

“Oh, no.”

Kael turned toward her.

“You recognize that voice.”

She looked at him with an expression of terrible sorrow.

“I prayed you would never hear it.”

The staircase to the lower levels was hidden behind a stone panel marked with the symbols of the four bloodlines.

Lysander joined them at the entrance, carrying an ancient lantern. Its blue flame illuminated the narrow steps descending into darkness.

“Whatever lies below this fortress predates the Crimson Court,” he explained. “The original builders sealed it away when the first pact was created.”

Darius frowned.

“And nobody thought to mention this before?”

“Only three people knew of its existence,” Lysander replied.

“Let me guess,” Kael said. “My father, my grandmother, and someone who is conveniently dead.”

“Your father, Seraphine, and the first Shadow King.”

Kael sighed.

“Of course.”

They descended.

The air grew colder with every step. Strange symbols covered the walls, and Kael felt the Moon Crown responding to them.

His black mark burned whenever he passed a symbol of the fourth bloodline.

At the bottom, they found a circular chamber.

In its center stood a glass-like prison suspended above a deep pit.

Inside the prison was a little girl.

She looked about six years old.

Silver hair framed her face, and a crescent-shaped mark rested on her wrist.

Kael stopped breathing.

The girl from his vision.

She sat with her knees drawn to her chest, her eyes fixed on the floor.

But there was something wrong.

Her shadow stretched across the prison wall, far larger than her small body.

And it had horns.

“Is that Azrael's daughter?” Darius whispered.

Seraphine shook her head.

“No.”

Kael turned sharply.

“You said you didn't know.”

“I was wrong.”

Her voice trembled.

“That child is not his daughter.”

Inside the prison, the little girl slowly lifted her head.

Her eyes were completely black.

“Grandmother,” she whispered.

Seraphine stepped backward.

Kael felt his blood turn cold.

The girl pressed her small palm against the glass.

“Why did you leave me here?”

Seraphine's lips parted, but no words came.

Kael approached the prison.

“Who are you?”

The girl smiled.

It was a small, innocent smile.

Almost believable.

“My name is Elara.”

The crescent mark on her wrist began to glow.

“Are you going to let me out?”

Kael glanced at Lysander.

The ancient guardian had gone pale.

“Do not touch the prison, Your Majesty.”

“Why?”

“Because that is not a prison.”

Kael looked at the glass.

“What is it?”

Lysander swallowed.

“A seal.”

The girl tilted her head.

“That's not true.”

Her voice became softer.

“Kael, I can show you what happened to your parents. I can show you why your father made you carry the second heartbeat.”

Kael froze.

No one had told her about the second heartbeat.

The girl's smile widened.

“And I can show you what Lucien will do when the command takes control of him again.”

Kael's fingers curled.

“Stay out of his mind.”

“I am not in his mind.”

The girl leaned closer to the glass.

“He is already coming for you.”

Above them, in the Crimson Queen's chamber, Lucien opened his eyes.

He was alone.

The rejected mate mark on his wrist had turned completely black.

He sat up slowly, struggling to remember what had happened.

He remembered Kael reaching for him.

He remembered the sword.

And he remembered the terrible feeling of watching his own hand move against his will.

“No,” he whispered.

He stumbled to his feet and reached for the door.

A voice spoke from the darkness.

“Going somewhere, Crown Prince?”

Lucien turned.

His father stood near the window.

King Draven had been dead for years.

Yet there he was, wearing the same black military coat Lucien remembered from childhood.

Lucien's face drained of color.

“You're dead.”

“An inconvenient detail.”

His father smiled.

“Come here, son.”

Lucien remained where he was.

“What are you?”

“A memory. A command. Perhaps a little of both.”

The king held out his hand.

“The Moon heir is becoming too powerful. You know what must be done.”

Lucien's rejected mate mark burned.

He dropped to one knee.

His father's smile widened.

“Good. Now finish what I started.”

Lucien clenched his fists.

“No.”

The king's expression hardened.

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

“I said no!”

Golden light burst from Lucien's chest.

For a moment, the black mark on his wrist cracked.

Then the king disappeared.

In his place stood a tall figure with silver-black hair.

Azrael.

Lucien reached for his sword.

Azrael merely looked at him.

“Your father was a fool.”

“What do you want?”

“To offer you a choice.”

“I've had enough of your choices.”

Azrael's gaze sharpened.

“Then listen carefully. If you want to save Kael, you must do something no Alpha has ever done.”

Lucien's grip tightened.

“What?”

Azrael stepped closer.

“You must surrender your wolf.”

Lucien stared at him.

His wolf was the source of his strength, his status, and his identity as the future Alpha King.

Without it, he would be powerless.

Azrael continued.

“Or the next time the command awakens, you will kill your mate.”

Lucien looked toward the door leading to the lower levels.

He thought of Kael's face.

The hurt in his eyes.

The way he had reached for Lucien even when he had every reason to let him die.

Lucien slowly lowered his sword.

“Tell me how.”

Beneath the fortress, Elara pressed both hands against the seal.

The glass began to crack.

Seraphine raised her hands, summoning silver chains that wrapped around the prison.

“Kael, move away!”

But Kael could not look away from the child.

He could hear her thoughts now.

Not words.

Memories.

A woman screaming.

A man begging for mercy.

A baby crying beneath a red moon.

And a voice whispering:

One child must remain behind.

Kael staggered.

The vision vanished.

He looked at Seraphine.

“What did you do?”

She was crying now.

“I saved the world.”

The little girl laughed.

“No, Grandmother.”

The prison cracked again.

“You saved the wrong child.”

The black mark on Kael's wrist spread toward his elbow.

Lysander drew his sword, but the blade turned to ash in his hand.

Darius stepped forward.

“Kael, whatever happens, do not release her.”

The child looked directly at Kael.

Her expression suddenly became serious.

“Ask your mother who she carried out of the burning Moon Palace.”

Kael's breath caught.

His mother had told him that she had saved him.

That Rowan had carried him through the ruins.

That everyone else had died.

But the child's words opened a terrible possibility.

What if his mother had carried someone else out of that palace, too?

What if the child in front of him had been hidden all these years?

Kael turned to Seraphine.

“Who is Elara?”

His grandmother looked at the prison.

Then she whispered the truth.

“Elara is the first heir of the fourth bloodline.”

The girl smiled.

“And you, Kael Ashwyn…”

The seal split down the middle.

“…are the last.”

A blinding flash of black light swallowed the chamber.

When it faded, the prison stood empty.

And a small hand slipped into Kael's.

The child was standing beside him.

Free.

She looked up at him with innocent black eyes.

“Brother,” she whispered.

Then she turned toward the staircase.

“Now let's go find the woman who stole my life.”