The crypt trembled, the very air shifting as the golden flames flickered and danced along the walls. Evelyne's breath came fast, her fingers tightening around Kael's shoulders as he clutched the heart to his chest.
For the first time in centuries, he was whole.
And yet—
Kael's body convulsed. A sharp, ragged gasp tore from his throat, his emerald eyes wide with something raw, something uncontained. Evelyne's heart clenched. She could feel it—the energy radiating from him, overwhelming, untamed.
"Kael—"
His fingers dug into the stone beneath them, his jaw clenched as a tremor ran through his entire being. "It's—too much," he rasped. His voice, usually so controlled, was fraying at the edges.
Evelyne didn't hesitate. She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. "Breathe," she urged. "You're in control, not the power."
His gaze met hers, and for a fleeting moment, he was just Kael. Not the immortal, not the cursed being—just a man overwhelmed by something he had lived without for too long.
A shudder ran through him. His grip on the heart tightened. The golden light surrounding them pulsed, shifting, molding itself to him.
Then, the crypt went silent.
No whispers. No wraiths. No more trembling walls.
Just Kael, breathing.
And Evelyne, still holding onto him.
A heavy stillness settled between them, thick with something unspoken. Evelyne could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, a stark contrast to the chilling cold that had once defined him. His heart—his life—beat strong beneath her touch.
Slowly, Kael exhaled. His body steadied, his eyes clearing. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, steadier.
"It's done."
Evelyne swallowed. She wanted to believe it. She needed to believe it. But the unease curling in her gut wouldn't fade.
Something still wasn't right.
She pushed herself to her feet, scanning the crypt. The torches burned golden now, casting their surroundings in a warm glow. The wraiths were gone, the carvings on the walls lifeless once more. The pedestal where the heart had rested stood empty, nothing but cold stone remaining.
And yet, the air felt—wrong.
Kael must have sensed it too, because he followed her gaze, his fingers flexing as if testing the strength now coursing through him. "It shouldn't feel like this," he murmured.
Evelyne turned back to him, her pulse quickening. "What do you mean?"
Kael's expression darkened. He placed a hand over his chest, where his heart now rested once more. "The curse was tied to my heart. The moment I reclaimed it, the bindings should have broken. I should feel—" He hesitated, his brows drawing together. "Lighter. But I don't."
Evelyne's stomach twisted.
Then—
A sound.
Not the whisper of the crypt. Not the breath of lost souls.
Something deeper.
Older.
The torches flared. Shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls. The carvings—moved.
The image of Kael's mother shifted, her hollow eyes tilting toward them. Her mouth—once frozen in stone—opened.
And a voice, cold as death, echoed through the chamber.
You were never meant to take it back.
Evelyne barely had time to react before the crypt broke apart.
The ground beneath them shattered. The walls cracked, splitting open like wounds. The golden light that had once signaled victory twisted, darkened—turning red.
Evelyne staggered, grabbing Kael's arm. "Move!"
But it was too late.
The crypt was collapsing, stone and shadow intertwining as something else emerged from the depths. A force that had been waiting. Watching.
The woman from the carvings—Kael's mother—stepped forward.
Not as stone.
Not as a memory.
But as something alive.
Her form was barely human, her body wrapped in swirling mist, her eyes voids of endless black. The bleeding heart she once clutched in the carvings was now real—dripping, pulsing, alive in her grasp.
Kael froze. Evelyne didn't think she'd ever seen him look so—unmoored.
"Mother." His voice was a whisper, something broken.
The woman's lips curled into something that was neither a smile nor a sneer. "You should not have returned, my son."
Evelyne's blood turned to ice.
This wasn't over.
It was only just beginning.
Kael's breath hitched. He had spent centuries chasing the fragments of his existence, believing that reclaiming his heart would free him. But as he stood before the woman who had once given him life—now something else entirely—he realized the truth.
The curse had never been about the heart.
It had always been about her.
Evelyne tightened her grip on his arm, grounding him. "Kael," she murmured, urgency threading through her voice. "We need to move."
But he couldn't. Not yet. Not until he understood why.
His mother—no, the thing she had become—tilted her head. The bleeding heart in her grasp pulsed, each beat resonating through the air like a war drum. "You thought it was over," she mused, voice carrying the weight of ages. "But the heart was never yours to reclaim."
Kael's fingers twitched. "It was mine," he countered, though his voice lacked its usual certainty.
Her expression remained unreadable, but the flicker of something ancient—something cruel—danced in her gaze. "Then tell me, my son," she whispered, stepping closer. "Why does it still beat in my hand?"
Evelyne's sharp inhale barely reached his ears before a searing pain lanced through his chest.
Kael staggered.
His heart—his heart—was still there, still whole.
And yet—
Each pulse of the bleeding heart in his mother's grasp sent another wave of agony through him, as if tethering him to something beyond flesh and bone.
His knees buckled.
Evelyne caught him before he fell completely. "Kael!" Panic edged her voice, but she didn't let go. "We have to go!"
The crypt trembled again, the shadows closing in. His mother—his curse—was still watching. Waiting.
And Kael understood.
This wasn't just about reclaiming his heart.
It was about breaking hers.
Kael clenched his teeth against the pain, his mind reeling. His mother's grip on the pulsing heart tightened, and with each slow beat, a fresh wave of agony crashed through him. It wasn't just pain—it was possession. A force threading through his veins, anchoring him to her will.
Evelyne's fingers dug into his arm. "Kael, listen to me!" Her voice was fierce, but beneath it, he could hear the fear. "You're stronger than this. Whatever hold she has on you, you can fight it."
His mother let out a quiet laugh, soft and cold. "Oh, my dear girl," she murmured, eyes gleaming with something wicked. "You still don't understand, do you?"
The crypt trembled harder, cracks spidering across the floor. From those fractures, a dark mist slithered upward, coiling like living shadows. The very air warped, thickening with power.
"She was never just a curse," Kael whispered, realization dawning. He forced himself upright, his body trembling but his mind sharpening. He turned to Evelyne, his emerald eyes burning with defiance. "She is the curse."
His mother's lips curved. "Clever boy."
And then she moved.
Too fast—too unnatural.
One moment, she was standing by the shattered pedestal. The next, she was in front of him, her fingers ghosting over his chest, right above his heart.
Kael gasped. A freezing force surged through him, coiling around his soul like chains reforged.
Evelyne reacted instantly. With a sharp cry, she wrenched Kael back, her free hand flying toward his mother's spectral form. Golden light flared from her fingertips—pure, burning energy that crackled in the air.
It struck Kael's mother dead-on.
She shrieked.
Not in pain.
In anger.
The shadows surged, lashing outward. The mist recoiled only to reform, thickening like a storm about to break.
Kael panted, his vision blurring. He could feel the invisible chains tightening, binding him to something deeper than magic. His heart was his. He had reclaimed it. And yet, it still beat in her hand.
Why?
His mother's voice slithered through the chaos, low and cold.
"You thought you could undo what was done? Foolish child." She lifted the bleeding heart, letting the dark liquid drip between her fingers. "You were made from me. Your soul is mine."
Kael's stomach twisted. The weight of those words settled over him like a noose.
"No." Evelyne's voice was steady, unwavering. She stepped between them, shoulders squared. "You don't own him."
His mother exhaled a slow, almost amused breath. "Don't I?"
And then—
She squeezed.
Kael collapsed.
A raw, broken sound tore from his throat. White-hot agony exploded inside him, his chest seizing as if his heart were being ripped from him all over again.
Evelyne screamed his name.
Kael's fingers clawed at the stone beneath him. His vision darkened, the crypt fading into nothing but shadows and searing pain.
Somewhere, through the haze, he heard Evelyne's ragged breathing. Felt the warmth of her hands gripping him, grounding him.
"Kael," she whispered desperately. "Stay with me."
His mother's voice drifted through the void, soft and taunting.
"You cannot fight what you are."
Kael's heart lurched.
And for the first time since reclaiming it—
He felt it slipping away.