Lucien woke in the early gray of morning, tangled in velvet sheets, his body still humming from Kael's touch.
Kael was gone.
Not a word. Not a note. Not even the warmth on the pillow beside him.
Lucien stared at the ceiling, chest tight.
Of course.
Because Kael was always the first to run.
---
Down the hall, Elias waited.
He stood outside Kael's war chamber, jaw clenched, white priest robes dragging across the polished obsidian floor. His hands shook — not from fear, but from something far more volatile:
Betrayal.
When the door opened, Kael didn't even flinch.
"Get out of my way," he muttered.
Elias didn't move.
"You were with him."
Kael stared at him blankly.
"You touched him," Elias said, voice low. "After everything—after warning me, after pushing him away, after treating him like a curse you could control—you slept with him."
Kael's expression didn't change. "You always knew I would."
"I thought you were stronger."
"I thought you were holier."
Silence.
Elias's hands balled into fists. "Do you even care what this will do to him?"
Kael finally looked at him. "He's not some glass doll, Elias. He wants the fire."
"He wants love. You gave him guilt."
Kael stepped forward, voice tight. "What I gave him was real. What do you give him? Blessings? Pretty words? A promise to hold him if he breaks?"
Elias whispered, "Yes."
Kael blinked.
"I would hold him through ruin," Elias said. "Even if it means burning too."
---
Lucien stood at the palace balcony, watching the storm clouds gather over the garden maze.
The Love Hunt had been days ago.
But it felt like years.
His chest still burned faintly — not from the curse, but from everything left unsaid.
He had kissed both of them.
He had felt both of them.
And now?
He felt empty.
Someone cleared their throat behind him.
Lucien turned.
A court page, pale and breathless, held out a sealed scroll.
Marked with the Emperor's ring.
Lucien opened it slowly.
His eyes scanned.
Then narrowed.
The Emperor was summoning him to the eastern tower — alone.
The eastern tower hadn't been opened in years.
Not since the last royal execution.
---
Thatnight, as thunder rolled over the palace, Lucien stood before the ancient iron doors of the eastern tower.
He was alone.
Or so he thought.
A shadow shifted in the corner.
Kael.
He stepped forward, cloak soaked from rain, dark eyes unreadable.
"You shouldn't be here," Lucien said.
"You shouldn't go in alone."
Lucien smiled weakly. "Funny. You left me alone just fine this morning."
Kael's throat worked. "I didn't mean to."
"You never mean to. You just do."
Kael stepped closer. "Say the word. I'll stay."
Lucien looked away. "You already left."
And with that, he pushed the doors open — and vanished into the tower.
---
Inside, the air was cold.
Smelling of blood. Magic. Dust.
At the center of the chamber stood a woman in black robes. A mask covered her face, but her voice was soft — and strangely familiar.
"You wear another man's skin," she said. "But your soul burns like his."
Lucien stiffened. "Who are you?"
"A seer who has seen you before you were born."
Lucien's heart pounded. "Before I transmigrated?"
"No," she whispered. "Before you died. You were never just Riven. You were built for something more."
Lucien staggered back.
"What do you mean?"
But the seer stepped forward, voice echoing with power.
"You were summoned by someone in this court. You were *chosen, Lucien. Not cursed. And now you must choose."*
The tower trembled.
Flames sparked at Lucien's feet — red like the sigil on his chest.
"You must decide who your soul belongs to," she said. "Before the curse decides for you."
---
Back in the sanctum, Elias knelt before the hidden prophecy again.
And this time, it whispered a line he hadn't seen before:
"Two shall burn for him — but only one shall be reborn."