Kael couldn't breathe.
Not from fear—but fury.
The Emperor's words still echoed in his ears: "Kael is the final seal. His blood will bind Lucien's soul, once and for all."
He had sworn to protect Lucien. Fought beside him. Bled for him. And all this time… he was nothing but a key. A tool. A pawn on a board rigged from the beginning.
His fists clenched until blood trickled from his palms.
But he couldn't confront the Emperor—notyet.
So he did the only thing he could do.
He ran.
Not away.
ToLucien.
—
Lucien was alone in the temple garden again, sitting on a stone bench as vines of black-tinged roses climbed the nearby walls. The sigil on his chest pulsed faintly, reacting to the proximity of the soul within. His thoughts were lost between memories and moments—past kisses, whispered betrayals, and flashes of a love he couldn't remember fully… but still mourned.
He sensed Kael before he heard him.
Kael always moved like a storm that hadn't decided whether to rain or break everything.
"Kael?" Lucien stood.
The general didn't stop walking until they were face to face. "I need to tell you something."
Lucien tilted his head. "What is it?"
Kael's eyes flicked to the glowing mark on Lucien's chest. "The Emperor… he doesn't just fear you. He's trying to seal you permanently. Using a blood rite. A final seal."
Lucien's breath caught. "Whose blood?"
Kael hesitated. Then:
"Mine."
The word fell between them like a sword.
Lucien stepped back, eyes narrowing. "You're part of the binding spell?"
"I didn't know," Kael said quickly. "I swear it. But now I do, and—" He dropped to one knee. "I won't be used against you. Not again."
Lucien stared, heart pounding.
Kael. Proud, cold Kael… kneeling. Submitting not to royalty, but to him.
Lucien stepped forward slowly. "Stand up."
Kael rose, but didn't meet his gaze. "If you want to end it—if you need to—kill me before they use me."
Lucien reached out, touching Kael's jaw gently. "I don't want to kill you."
"Then what?" Kael's voice was strained. "When the time comes, and they try to use me to chain you—will you let them?"
Lucien's expression darkened. "No. I'd rather destroy the whole throne."
A beat passed.
Then Kael leaned forward, their foreheads nearly touching. "Then we'll destroy it together."
Elsewhere, Elias stood in the library's deepest vaults, surrounded by forbidden scrolls. His fingers trembled as he unrolled a prophecy written in blood and gold.
It told of a soul reborn across time.
A prince bound by velvet and flame.
"When the Velvet-Bound King rises, the thrones of men will fall."
Elias traced the lines slowly. Every word echoed what he feared: Lucien wasn't just cursed. He was prophesied. His existence was both salvation and annihilation.
But the prophecy ended with one line burned nearly beyond legibility:
"Only love without condition… can choose what the fire becomes."
Elias closed his eyes.
He didn't just love Lucien.
He might have to save him—or burn with him.
—
That night, Lucien stood at the mirror.
His reflection was flickering.
Not just his face—but Riven's. Overlapping. Shifting.
"You're changing," the soul whispered.
Lucien touched the sigil, eyes heavy-lidded. "I feel it. Like your fire is waking in my blood."
The voice chuckled. "We were always the same, little prince. You're just remembering."
Lucien narrowed his eyes. "What happens when we merge?"
The voice purred in his mind. "We become what they fear. A god wrapped in silk and rage. A king crowned in velvet and ash."
Lucien exhaled. "And what do you want from me?"
"To choose, Lucien," the soul said. "Not to submit. Not to serve. But to choose me freely."
Lucien touched the glass. His own eyes stared back—half silver, half glowing crimson now.
"I haven't decided yet."
The voice was quiet.
"You will."