***
The taste of the Realm of Dusk still lingered in my mouth—bittersweet, like overripe fruit laced with venom. Even as I walked through the cracked stone halls of the monastery, I couldn't shake the weight of her voice.
Calienne.
She'd called me Father. Looked me in the eye with Seraphine's soul and Calista's smile. A child born of stolen blood and forbidden magic… and yet, when she smiled at me, it didn't feel like a trick. It felt like recognition. Like bond. Like truth.
But that was the danger, wasn't it?
Some truths were traps wearing softer faces.
***
Seraphine sat at the edge of the bath chamber, her armor peeled off in layers. The heat from the steaming water misted the air around her, catching in her silver-blonde lashes. She hadn't said a word since we returned from the Realm of Dusk.
I watched her from the doorway, gripping the frame hard enough that the wood creaked beneath my hand.
"You're angry," I said.
"I'm not angry." Her voice was flat. "I'm shattered."
I stepped in, shedding my own tunic. "Then let me help you put the pieces back together."
Her eyes met mine—tired, blazing, resisting the pull we always had between us. But resistance was never her strength.
"Please," I whispered.
She nodded once.
I slid into the bath behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. Her breath hitched. My lips found her neck. Soft. Then biting. Then soothing again.
Her hands found my thighs beneath the water, gripping, grounding herself in the moment.
"You saw her," she whispered.
"I did."
"You felt it too, didn't you? That pull."
"Yes."
Her voice trembled. "It scares me. How much of me was used to make her."
I turned her gently, straddling her now, water sloshing between us. My hands slid up her wet thighs, gripping her hips.
"She is not you," I said. "She is not me. She is… something between. Something new."
She searched my face for the lie. But there wasn't one.
"I don't want to lose you to her," she whispered.
"You won't."
I kissed her. Deep. Unapologetic. She melted into me like the fire she was born to resist.
I entered her slowly beneath the water. Her gasp echoed in the stone chamber. We moved in rhythm with the ripples, her hands in my hair, my mouth on her collarbone.
She bit my lip. I growled against her skin.
Every thrust was a vow. Every moan a prayer. Every climax a breaking of barriers between our fear and our future.
When it ended, she curled against me in silence, breath soft, heart loud.
"I believe you," she whispered.
***
We were summoned at dawn by Kael.
He stood over a cracked map, runes glowing like embers between the mountains.
"I found it," he said. "The thing that opened its eyes."
He pointed to the ancient markings.
The Heartflame.
A temple buried deep beneath the world. Older than the First Flame. Said to house the true source of our bloodline.
"What awakened it?" I asked.
Kael didn't look up. "You did. The moment you met your daughter."
Seraphine stiffened beside me. "Calienne?"
"She's the key," Kael said. "She wasn't just born to be a weapon. She was born to awaken the old gods. The forgotten flames. And now that she's aware of you—aware of herself—the seal beneath the Heartflame is breaking."
I leaned closer. "Then we stop it."
"You don't understand," Kael said. "If the Heartflame fully awakens, it won't just burn the kingdoms. It'll rewrite the lineage of the Flameblood. Kings will fall. Timelines will fold. And power... will shift."
"To who?" Seraphine asked.
Kael's expression was grim.
"To whoever touches the flame first."
***
We left that afternoon.
Seraphine, Kael, Kray, and me.
Arion stayed behind, guarded by a protective ward that only responded to my blood. He protested, but I made him promise: No more outbursts. No more shadow storms. Not until I came back.
He hugged me tight. "I'll protect them," he whispered. "All of them. I promise."
And something in his eyes—tamed, still wild, but loyal—told me he would.
***
The journey to the Heartflame took us through the Black Canyons, where the winds screamed in forgotten languages. Every shadow held a threat. Every mile we rode felt like fate tightening its grip around our throats.
By the third day, we found the entrance—a sealed gate shaped like a dragon's open mouth, carved from obsidian and etched in runes.
Only my blood opened it.
I sliced my palm.
Pressed it to the stone.
And the gate groaned open like a beast waking from centuries of slumber.
***
Inside, the heat was unbearable.
The air shimmered with magic. The walls pulsed. The deeper we went, the more the world bent. Seraphine gripped my hand tighter with every step.
Finally, we reached it.
The Heartflame.
A massive orb of molten fire, suspended in chains of bone and crystal, beating like a living heart.
Kael bowed low. Even Kray, cocky as ever, dropped to one knee.
Seraphine stared, mesmerized.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"It's alive," I said.
Suddenly—
A scream echoed through the chamber.
A child's scream.
Calienne.
We turned—just in time to see her stumble from the shadows, hands bound in silver, thorns wrapping around her wrists like shackles.
"Help me!" she cried.
And behind her—
Calista.
Alive. Whole. More powerful than ever.
She stepped into the firelight, her gown billowing with shadows.
"I warned you, Desmond," she said. "But you never listen."
Seraphine stepped in front of me.
"I'll kill you this time."
Calista only smiled.
"You think this was about you?" she asked. "No. This was always about him."
She pointed to me.
"To the flame inside him. The blood. The power. I just needed the right children to unlock it."
Kael cast a shield spell, but it shattered before it left his fingers.
Calista raised her arms.
And the Heartflame screamed.
Chains snapped. Magic burst outward.
Calienne floated into the air, her eyes glowing.
And then—
She burst into flame.