The night sky loomed heavy above the Blackthorn estate, its darkness stretched thick as velvet, broken only by the trembling shimmer of distant stars. The once-majestic halls, now scarred by tension and whispers, felt more like a prison than the seat of power it had been. Shadows clung to the corners, restless, as if the very air held its breath, waiting for what would come next.
Elena Blackthorn stood at the balcony of her chambers, her hands gripping the stone balustrade so tightly her knuckles turned white. The night air was cold against her skin, carrying with it the faint, metallic tang of rain yet to fall. Her emerald eyes scanned the courtyard below, where the flickering torches of guards patrolling felt like dying stars in the void.
Her heart, however, was far from calm. Adrian's words from the council chamber hours earlier still haunted her, circling her mind like wolves refusing to retreat. "An oath binds us all, Elena. Break it, and the world itself will turn against us."
But what use was an oath, she thought bitterly, if it was born of lies, betrayal, and manipulation? The fragile alliance between the Blackthorns and their sworn allies had already begun to crack under the weight of secrets no one dared to speak aloud.
Behind her, a soft knock broke the silence. She didn't turn; she already knew the rhythm of that knock.
"Come in, Adrian," she whispered.
The door creaked open, and Adrian stepped inside, the dim light catching his sharp features. His presence filled the room like a storm cloud, tense and foreboding.
"You shouldn't be alone tonight," he said quietly, though his tone was more command than comfort.
"I'm not afraid of the dark," Elena replied without turning. Her voice was steady, but she couldn't hide the edge of weariness woven into it.
Adrian moved closer, his boots silent against the marble floor. He stopped just a step away, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. "It isn't the dark you should fear. It's the lies festering within these walls."
At that, Elena turned to face him, her eyes flashing. "You think I don't already know that? Every promise, every oath sworn in these halls is tainted. We cling to them like chains, while the truth rots beneath."
Adrian's gaze hardened, but there was something else there too—something almost like sorrow. "If the oaths shatter, Elena, blood will follow. The fractured alliance won't only destroy your house. It will burn everything."
His words hung between them, heavy, unyielding. For a moment, neither spoke. The silence was filled only by the low howl of wind sneaking through the open balcony doors.
Then Elena stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Adrian… whose side are you on?"
The question struck like a blade. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. But then, softly, he said, "Yours."
The word lingered, fragile and powerful all at once. Yet Elena knew the storm wasn't so easily calmed.
Far below, in the grand hall of the estate, another gathering was already beginning. Victoria, her crimson gown trailing like spilled blood across the marble floor, had summoned what remained of their allies to discuss the unraveling situation. Melissa stood at her side, her expression carefully neutral, though her eyes missed nothing. Loran lingered near the shadows, his silence sharp as a blade.
"The oath is already broken," Victoria declared, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a dagger. "We cling to a corpse and call it loyalty. But corpses only rot."
A murmur of agreement rippled through some of the gathered, though others shifted uneasily.
Melissa raised a hand. "If we speak of broken oaths, then we must also speak of consequences. The pact was not merely symbolic—it was bound with blood. Breaking it could awaken forces we are unprepared to face."
Loran finally spoke, his tone cold. "Forces already stir. You feel it, don't you? In the unease that chokes this estate? In the whispers crawling through the walls at night? The oath was never meant to protect us—it was meant to bind us."
The words struck the room with a weight heavier than stone. Elena and Adrian entered then, their arrival drawing every gaze.
Victoria arched a brow. "Ah, the guardians of silence have returned. Tell us, Elena, do you still believe in the sanctity of promises sworn in shadows?"
Elena met her sister's gaze without flinching. "I believe in survival. And right now, survival depends on truth, not on shattered oaths."
Adrian's presence at her side only seemed to magnify her words, though he said nothing.
The chamber descended into chaos—some shouting for rebellion, others begging for restraint. The fragile threads of loyalty that had once tied them together were fraying with every breath.
Finally, Elena raised her hand, her voice sharp enough to cut through the din. "Enough! If we are to tear apart the oath, then let us do so with open eyes. But understand this—whatever is unleashed will not discriminate between the innocent and the guilty."
Her words silenced them, but silence was not peace.
Later, as the torches burned low and the council dispersed in uneasy disarray, Elena found herself once more standing in the shadows of the great hall. Adrian lingered at her side, his hand brushing hers briefly—a silent tether in the storm.
But when the hall emptied, Victoria remained. She approached slowly, her expression unreadable.
"You speak of truth," Victoria said softly, almost wistfully. "But truth has a cost, sister. Are you prepared to pay it?"
Elena looked at her, her heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid between them. "If the cost is my soul, then yes. Because what we are now… it is worse than death."
For the first time in years, Victoria's façade cracked, a flicker of something raw flashing in her crimson gaze. But just as quickly, it was gone.
"Then may the shattered oath consume us all," she whispered, turning away.
And in that moment, Elena knew—the war had already begun.
Outside, thunder rolled across the heavens, shaking the estate to its foundations. The night itself seemed to shudder, as if the world had heard their words and was preparing to answer.
The oath was broken.
The alliance was fractured.
And in the darkness beyond the torches' glow, something stirred.
Something ancient. Something hungry.