Dark clouds clawed at the sky as Ravon led Seraphina through the desolate ravine, its walls etched with the ruins of forgotten wars. The demon lord's usually confident steps were hurried—his instincts stirred with unease. Seraphina, cloaked in crimson, kept close. Her body still throbbed with residual magic from the blood bond, her senses more alive than ever.
They had come to the Temple of the Hollow Flame—an abandoned sanctum deep within demon territory, a place no sane creature dared linger. But Ravon knew its wards. Its shadows. It was once his sanctuary.
Inside, the flames flickered low, casting ghostlike figures on the wall. Seraphina walked ahead, drawn to a mural—half destroyed—depicting a human woman standing beside a crowned demon, their hands linked in blood.
Before she could speak, the ground shook. The air stilled.
"They're here," Ravon said grimly.
The great stone archway exploded inward, and a whirlwind of ash filled the chamber. Out stepped five figures cloaked in black and silver—embers dancing around them like fireflies. Their eyes burned with contempt.
The Council of Ash had arrived.
The leader, Lord Merak—once Ravon's most trusted general—spoke first. "So it's true. You've bonded with the girl. You've doomed us all."
"She is not your concern," Ravon said coldly, stepping in front of Seraphina.
"She is every demon's concern," hissed Lady Nythra, her skin laced with molten cracks. "You gave your essence to a human. That bond makes her your heart. And hearts… can be crushed."
Seraphina's hands curled into fists. "I'm not here to be crushed. If you came to threaten us, you'll have to fight me too."
Laughter echoed from the council, sharp as broken glass.
"She speaks with fire," said Merak, tilting his head. "Let's see if she burns."
Without warning, three council members launched forward. Ravon unleashed a wave of shadow, slamming one against the wall, while Seraphina instinctively raised her arm—and from her palm erupted a whip of crimson light, slicing through the air.
It caught Nythra's shoulder, drawing black blood. The demoness shrieked.
Merak narrowed his gaze. "She is awakening."
But before more chaos could erupt, the ground beneath them split. A surge of raw energy burst from the blood bond within Seraphina, forming a protective sigil on the temple floor.
The Council froze.
"She bears the Mark of the Crimson Line," one whispered in dread.
Ravon pulled Seraphina close. "You've made your mistake. Leave now—or perish in a place even the gods forgot."
The Council hesitated, then vanished in a gust of ash and hatred. But their threat lingered in the cold air.
Seraphina looked up at Ravon. "Why did they call it the Crimson Line?"
Ravon's face darkened. "Because it marks a prophecy… One where a human and a demon rewrite the fate of the underworld."
And in that moment, she realized that this is just the beginning