The remnants of the Queen's lair were nothing but smoldering ruins. The once grand chamber, a twisted reflection of the Queen's power, was now a shadow of its former self—crumbling stone, shattered glass, and twisted iron scattered across the floor. The smell of dust and smoke hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the chaos that had unfolded mere moments ago.
Acantha's footsteps echoed through the silence as she approached the clearing in the midst of the ruins. Her dark cloak swirled around her, untouched by the destruction around her. Behind her, she carried two figures—Adrianna and Seraphina.
Seraphina was unconscious, her pale face streaked with dirt, blood, and the exhaustion of the battle that had nearly claimed them all. Her limp body hung in Acantha's arms, and Adrianna's heart twisted with a mixture of worry and guilt. She had failed to protect her, just like she had failed to protect Jonah.
