---
The air around them shimmered, and then it shattered.
One moment Seraphina was clutching Ravon's arm beneath the moonlit canopy of Ashmoor's cursed forest—still reeling from their battle with the Council. The next, the world folded in on itself, yanking them through a silken tear in space and into silence.
They landed—hard—on silver sand that shifted like smoke under their feet. Overhead, the sky was a swirling veil of black and violet, dotted with bleeding stars. No sun. No moon. Just weightless darkness, echoing with the sound of their breathing.
"The Eclipsed Plane," Ravon said, voice low. "It's begun."
Seraphina looked around, heart pounding. "Where are we?"
"A realm between realms. Time doesn't move here. Pain does."
Ahead, three glowing gates floated in the distance like mirages. The first—a ruined cathedral of shadowed glass and singing wind—pulled at her chest with invisible threads.
"The Trial of Heart," Ravon said, eyes hard. "It always comes first."
---
They walked together in silence, but Seraphina's mind was chaos.
She hadn't fully processed the bond yet. Or the way Ravon had looked at her right before he killed three Council lords with a single word of power. He had power, yes. But behind it, grief. Rage. Loneliness.
And something else.
Fear.
As they stepped through the cathedral's broken archway, everything changed.
---
She was alone.
No sound. No Ravon. Just a wide hall of mirrors.
Each mirror reflected something different—her as a child, crying in the rain... her village burning... her father's voice blaming her for her mother's death...
And then—
A mirror flickered to life.
Ravon stood inside it. Not the Ravon she knew—but crueler, colder. His crimson eyes glowed like blood on snow.
"You're just another mortal girl to me," the reflection said. "A distraction. A toy. The bond was never real—it was survival."
Seraphina's knees buckled.
"No," she whispered. "That's not him. That's not my Ravon."
But the mirror didn't stop.
It showed her more—images of Ravon laughing as he destroyed kingdoms, kissing another demoness, standing over her lifeless body with no remorse.
Her chest ached, breath shallow. The illusions clawed at her heart. Doubt slithered in.
But then—she heard a voice.
Real. Gentle. Trembling.
"Seraphina."
The real Ravon stepped through a crack in the mirror world. His face was pale, breath ragged. "They tried to keep me out. But I fought my way here. I won't let them break you."
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "They said… they showed me things. Said I meant nothing to you."
He came to her slowly, hands open.
"They showed me too," he said, voice cracking. "Visions of you leaving me. Of you choosing someone else. Of you… dying."
He stopped inches from her, his eyes pleading.
"I don't care what they show me. I choose you."
She stared at him—really stared. And in that moment, she knew.
Whatever bond existed between them wasn't just blood or fate.
It was choice.
She took his hand.
The mirrors shattered.
---
They collapsed together, hearts racing, surrounded by silver dust and silence. Ravon touched her face, trembling.
"You're stronger than me," he said softly.
"No," she whispered. "We're stronger together."
Then, for the first time—not because of the blood bond, not because of prophecy, but because she wanted to—
she kissed him.
And the stars above them blazed gold.
---