The battlefield was silent now.
Smoke curled from shattered stone. Blood soaked into the earth like ink spilled across parchment. The ruins of the First City stood broken and haunted by the echoes of war.
Seraphine sat on a fallen pillar, her breath shallow, her body trembling.
Kael knelt beside her, pressing a torn strip of cloth against a deep wound on her arm.
"You're lucky," he murmured. "That one didn't hit anything vital."
She barely heard him.
Her mind was still reeling from what had happened—what she had felt when Aeloria's power surged through her.
Something had changed.
Not just in her.
But in the world around her.
And in Kael.
He looked different now.
Tired.
Broken.
As if the fight had taken more from him than just blood.
***
Lady Nyxara approached slowly, her robes stained with ash and crimson.
"The council will regroup," she said softly. "They won't stop until they have her."
Seraphine closed her eyes.
"I know."
Nyxara hesitated before speaking again.
"They'll come for you at the final moon."
Seraphine nodded.
"I'll be ready."
"We'll be ready," Aeloria whispered.
Kael looked up sharply.
"Don't let her talk to you like that," he warned.
Seraphine met his gaze.
"She's part of me now, Kael. I can't shut her out."
His jaw tightened.
"I won't let her take you."
Seraphine gave a weak smile.
"You already did everything you could."
Kael shook his head.
"No. I haven't done enough."
***
Later that night, as the camp settled into uneasy silence, Kael stood watch at the edge of the ruins.
The wind howled through the broken towers, carrying whispers only the mad could understand.
He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.
Behind him, a soft voice spoke.
"You should rest."
Kael turned slightly.
Seraphine stood there, wrapped in a cloak laced with protective wards.
He shook his head.
"I'm not tired."
She stepped closer.
"You look like death."
He smirked faintly.
"I feel like it."
A pause.
Then Seraphine asked quietly: "Do you regret coming with me?"
Kael glanced at her.
"No."
Seraphine tilted her head.
"Why not?"
Kael exhaled slowly.
"Because for the first time in years, I feel like I'm doing something that matters."
Seraphine studied him carefully.
"You don't owe me anything, Kael."
He looked at her then—not just at her face, but at the swell of her womb, where something dark and hungry stirred.
"I made a promise," he said simply. "I told you I wouldn't fail you."
Seraphine swallowed hard.
"And if failing me is the only way to save yourself?"
Kael gave a small, bitter laugh.
"I've been running for too long. If I die protecting you… then at least I'll die with purpose."
Seraphine reached out, placing a hand over his heart.
"You're not hollow anymore."
Kael met her gaze.
"No," he agreed. "I'm not."
***
They found them just before dawn.
The Crimson Council had returned.
This time, they came prepared.
Vampires clad in obsidian armor poured into the ruins, their weapons glowing with enchantments meant to pierce even immortal flesh.
Kael was the first to react.
He roared a challenge and charged forward, cutting down the first attacker before they even reached the camp.
Seraphine rose slowly, her body weak but her will stronger than ever.
Nyxara began weaving spells, summoning protective barriers and spectral wraiths to slow the advancing force.
But the enemy was relentless.
And Malrik led them personally.
He strode forward, holding a dagger forged from bone and shadow.
"This ends now," he declared.
Seraphine lifted her chin.
"It does."
"Let me help," Aeloria whispered.
Seraphine hesitated.
Then, for the first time, she answered aloud:
"Yes."
Her body convulsed.
A scream tore from her throat—not hers.
Aeloria's.
Dark energy exploded outward, knocking back the nearest attackers.
Malrik staggered.
But not all.
One warrior broke through the barrier.
And lunged straight for Seraphine.
Time slowed.
Kael moved faster than thought.
He threw himself between Seraphine and the blade.
Steel met flesh.
Blood sprayed.
Kael gasped.
The dagger had pierced his side, sliding between his ribs like a serpent striking home.
He staggered—but did not fall.
With a roar, he drove his own sword through the attacker's chest, impaling him against the ground.
Then, slowly, Kael collapsed.
***
Seraphine dropped to her knees beside him.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, no…"
Kael coughed violently, blood spilling from his lips.
He looked up at her, eyes unfocused.
"I kept my promise," he managed.
Seraphine clutched his hand.
"You idiot," she choked out. "You stupid, brave idiot."
Kael gave a weak smile.
"I finally got to do something right."
Seraphine pressed her forehead to his.
"I won't forget you."
Kael's breathing grew slower.
"I know."
His grip loosened.
His eyes fluttered shut.
And then—
Stillness.
***
Later, as the last of the council's forces scattered, Seraphine stood alone.
Kael's body was gone—vanished into mist the moment he died.
As if the curse that had bound him to this world had finally released him.
Nyxara approached cautiously.
"He's free now," she murmured.
Seraphine didn't answer.
Instead, she looked down at her belly.
Inside, Aeloria was quiet.
For once.
Then, softly:
"He loved you."
Seraphine closed her eyes.
"I know."
"And he died for you."
A pause.
Then, gently:
"Now it's your turn."