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Hazel had been restless all evening. The Citadel's halls felt colder, whispers curling in corners where shadows stretched unnaturally long. She had grown wary of Gavriel's odd behavior, the way his sharp eyes lingered on her too long, as though measuring her instead of guarding her. Miriam had warned her once: "Trust, My Lady, is fragile here. Some wear loyalty like a mask."
And tonight, that mask was slipping.
From her chamber balcony, Hazel spotted Gavriel in his blackened armor slipping silently through the gates of the Citadel. No guard shift, no escort, no report to Hades. He simply mounted a horse and rode into the night. Her gut clenched.
Hazel had long suspected him of being entangled in something darker than sworn loyalty—but until now she had no proof. Tightening her cloak around her shoulders, she made a quick decision. She wasn't going to sit idle. She moved swiftly to the stables, choosing a sleek obsidian mare whose fiery eyes mirrored her own rising resolve. The cold wind stung her cheeks as she urged the horse forward, trailing Gavriel through the fog-laden forest paths.
The night was eerily quiet—too quiet. The hooves of her horse echoed in her ears, but Gavriel never once turned, never faltered. Almost as if… he expected to be followed.
Hazel slowed as the path opened to a ruin she had never seen before—a shattered cathedral half-buried in the earth, its arches broken and walls entwined with thorned vines that pulsed faintly with crimson light. The place reeked of dark magic, the air heavy with rot and iron.
Her breath caught when she saw him. Gavriel dismounted in one fluid motion, and then, from the shadows, Velia appeared.
The serpent demoness was draped in a sheer gown of black silk that slithered like liquid against her pale scales. Her hair spilled like blood over her shoulders, her serpent eyes glowing with sick delight. She walked straight into Gavriel's arms, and the two embraced—his lips crashing into hers with a hunger Hazel never expected from Hades' sworn general.
Hazel's stomach dropped. Her suspicions had been true, but this—this cut deeper. Gavriel, the one who stood closest to Hades in the battlefield, the one she thought of as cold but honorable—was entwined with Hades' former mistress.
She wanted to scream, to demand why, but her body froze as realization struck. The kiss wasn't hidden. It wasn't secret. It was performed.
Velia broke from Gavriel's lips with a serpent's smile and whispered, "She followed, didn't she?"
Gavriel's expression hardened, his eyes flickering once toward the shadows of the broken cathedral where Hazel hid. "Of course. Just as we planned."
Hazel's blood ran cold.
From the ruins, figures emerged—rogue demons, their twisted forms hunched and malformed, eyes glowing with madness. Their snarls split the silence, and their blades gleamed with cursed fire.
Hazel stumbled back, heart hammering. She had suspected treachery, but never expected it to be this elaborate, this deliberate.
"You think you're clever, Princess," Velia's voice carried through the ruins, venom-laced and mocking. "Sniffing around where you don't belong. But you're nothing more than a pawn. Tonight, we wipe you off this board."
The rogues lunged.
Hazel's instincts kicked in. Her hands darted to her thighs, pulling free the hidden daggers she had strapped earlier that week. The blades felt natural in her grip, the cold steel grounding her spiraling panic.
She dodged the first swing, her cloak tearing as a blade grazed past. She ducked low, slashing upward to slice open a demon's leg. The creature howled, staggering. Another came from her side, but Hazel spun, her dagger sinking into his throat with surprising precision.
The rush of combat set her blood aflame. Hazel training back in Aetheria had never been real, she was almost thankful—. But Ariana's spirit, merged within Hazel's body, carried instincts honed by survival. Her body moved with a sharpness that startled even her.
For a few moments, she held her ground. The rogues snarled in frustration, surprised by her agility. One hissed, "She fights like a warrior!"
But Hazel's triumph was short-lived. The air thickened with dark incantations as the demons wove their magic. Jagged chains of shadow burst from the ground, wrapping around her legs and arms. She cried out, slashing desperately, but the bindings burned with venomous energy.
One rogue struck her side with a cursed blade, the pain searing as blood seeped through her gown. Another drove his fist into her stomach, sending her crashing against a broken pillar.
Hazel's daggers slipped from her weakening grip, clattering to the stone floor. Her breath came ragged, every muscle screaming. Still, she forced herself up, defiance blazing in her silver eyes.
But they were too many.
The rogues dragged her forward, her body scraping against the jagged stones until she was thrown at Gavriel's feet. Blood streaked her lip as she glared up at him.
He looked down with no remorse. Only coldness.
"You were never meant to last here," Gavriel said, his voice low, cruel. "You are nothing but a distraction to the King. A weakness. And I'll see that weakness purged."
Velia crouched beside Hazel, her long nails lifting Hazel's chin with mock tenderness. "Did you really think you were safe in his Citadel? That you could steal what was once mine? Foolish girl. I will be your nightmare, every waking hour you dared breathe here."
Hazel spat blood, forcing her voice through the pain. "You betray him… and for what? For each other?"
Velia smirked. "For power. For freedom from his shadow."
Gavriel's gaze darkened. "And to make sure you never see the light of day again."
The rogues raised their weapons, dark fire gathering along their blades. Hazel's heart pounded—she wasn't ready to die, not like this, not by their hands.
And then—
The air changed.
A low rumble echoed across the ruins, as if the earth itself recoiled. Shadows bent unnaturally, curling like smoke toward the shattered cathedral. The crimson vines pulsed once, then withered instantly.
The rogues froze, eyes widening in terror. Velia's mocking smile faltered. Gavriel stiffened.
Hazel felt it before she saw him—the suffocating aura, heavy as death itself.
From the darkness beyond the ruins, Hades emerged.
Not the poised king she had seen at court, not the distant man of controlled wrath. This was something else. Terrifying. Unchained. His cloak billowed like living flame, his eyes glowing with infernal fire that made the demons stagger back.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
In a blur, he raised his hand, and shadows lanced forward like spears, impaling two rogues instantly. Their bodies disintegrated into ash before they could even scream. Another charged him, but Hades' gaze alone froze the creature in mid-air, its body snapping apart like brittle glass.
The ruins filled with screams as rogues fell one after another, none able to withstand him.
Hazel lay on the ground, stunned, her chest heaving as she watched death incarnate rip through her enemies with terrifying ease.
Within moments, silence returned. Only Gavriel and Velia remained, their faces pale beneath their bravado.
Hades' burning eyes turned to them, and the weight of his wrath pressed against the air.
Hazel had never been more terrified in her life.