Somewhere deep beneath the Silver Court—far below the throne and its golden lies—a prison carved in bone and salt reeked of damp air, old blood, and secrets long buried.
She sat chained in the dark, wrists raw, silver hair dulled with grime and ash.
But her eyes…
They were still flame.
And tonight, they snapped open.
Liora.
Mother of Seraphina.
Marked traitor.
Banished queen.
The floor above shook violently.
Dust rained down from the stone ceiling.
She smiled.
"She's coming."
Back in the rogue kingdom, Seraphina stood bare-footed in the aftermath of the ritual. Her skin still radiated the ancient eclipse fire. Magic pulsed through her veins—not just rogue or royal, but something entirely new.
Lucian paced like a caged beast. His jaw was clenched, shirt soaked in blood from the bond-breaking wound she'd healed but not erased.
"You nearly died," he hissed.
"And now I'm more alive than ever."
"That ritual was never meant for you."
She looked up. "That's why it worked."
Later that night, Seraphina sat before the mirror in her chamber, combing her silver hair, eyes locked on her reflection.
She saw it now.
Her mother's face in hers.
The curse of their blood.
And the power in it.
Lucian entered silently, his voice dark. "The spies returned. The Council's keeping someone in the catacombs beneath the Silver Court."
She stood immediately.
"You know who it is."
The journey was blood-soaked.
Lucian unleashed his wolves, and the rogue army followed.
They carved a path through elite guards and warlocks alike, heading straight into the mouth of the enemy.
By the time they reached the inner sanctum, the sky was black, and the Council had fled.
The catacombs were a graveyard of tortured magic. Chains forged from moonlight. Sigils that whispered madness.
And at the very heart…
A single cell.
Lucian broke the lock. Seraphina stepped in.
And there she was.
Chained.
Bleeding.
Smiling.
Liora.
"Hello, daughter," she rasped.
Seraphina dropped to her knees. "You're alive."
Her mother cupped her face. "You've become everything they feared."
"They said you were dead. That you were the one who cursed the bloodline."
Liora's eyes dimmed.
"They had to. Because the truth would burn the kingdom."
Seraphina held her breath.
"What truth?"
Her mother spoke:
"Your father was the Eclipse King. A shadow shifter. He was hunted for his blood—and I loved him."
Seraphina's heart pounded.
"He died protecting me. And when I gave birth to you, they saw the mark of the eclipse in your aura. They knew what you could become."
"So they banished you… and forced me into the High Bloodline pack."
"Yes. They rejected you before you could ever shift. To break your power. To kill the part of you that reminded them of me."
Seraphina's magic flared with rage.
"I'll kill every last one of them."
But Liora gripped her tighter. "No. You will rule them."
As they carried Liora out of the catacombs, a storm began to rise.
Lucian looked at Seraphina, drenched in blood and prophecy. "What now?"
She turned, silver hair whipping in the wind, crown of rogue flame hovering above her.
"We start a war."