Caspian's POV
"Kill them."
My father's words hang in the air like a death sentence. His cold eyes bore into mine, waiting for obedience. Behind me, I feel Seraphina's terror, hear Lucian's ragged breathing.
My wife and her brother. The girl I'm supposed to protect and the boy my father tortured for years.
My sword feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
"I said NOW, Caspian." The King's voice drops to a deadly whisper. "Or have you forgotten your oath to Thornhaven?"
I haven't. That's the problem. I swore to serve the crown, to obey without question, to be the perfect weapon my father forged me into.
But I also made another promise. To Seraphina's mother, as she died.
Protect my people. Protect my daughter.
"No," I say quietly.
The temperature in the room drops ten degrees. My father's face remains calm, but I know that look. I've seen it before people disappear forever.
"What did you say?"
"I said no." I lower my sword, turning to face him fully. "I won't kill them."
"You dare defy me?" His voice could freeze fire. "After everything I've done for you? After I made you a prince, a commander, a—"
"A murderer?" The words burst out before I can stop them. "Is that what you were going to say, Father? Because that's what you made me. You forced me to invade Aldoria. To lead soldiers into a palace and—"
"Silence!" The King's hand shoots up, and I feel dark magic wrap around my throat, choking me.
Seraphina gasps behind me.
"You will not speak to me with such disrespect," my father says softly. "I gave you a choice five years ago. Lead the invasion or watch a thousand civilians burn. You chose. You always choose."
He's right. I did choose. And I've hated myself for it ever since.
But not anymore.
I grab the magic around my throat with my bare hands. It burns, searing my palms, but I channel my ice power into it. The dark magic freezes and shatters.
"I'm done making your choices," I rasp, my throat raw. "I'm done being your weapon."
My father's eyes widen—the first genuine surprise I've ever seen on his face. "You have ice magic? Since when?"
"Since I bonded with my wife." I don't look back at Seraphina, but I feel her presence like warmth at my back. "She showed me I could be something other than what you made me."
"Bonded?" The King laughs, harsh and cruel. "You bonded with her? That's impossible. You've known her less than a day—"
"Time doesn't matter when it's real." I raise my sword again, this time pointing it at my own father. "Let us leave. All three of us. Or I'll fight you."
"You'll lose."
"Probably. But I'll die knowing I finally did the right thing."
For a long moment, we just stare at each other. Then my father's expression shifts to something I've never seen before—genuine fury mixed with something that might be hurt.
"You choose her over me?" he asks quietly. "Over your own blood? Over Thornhaven?"
"I choose what's right over what's easy." My voice is steady now. "Something you never taught me."
The King's face hardens into a mask of cold rage. "Then you're no son of mine. Guards—seize them all."
The guards don't move.
My father's head snaps toward them. "I gave you an order!"
"Sir." One of the guards—Commander Elena Frost—steps forward, her hand on her sword hilt. "With respect, we serve the prince as much as the crown. And he's right. Whatever you're planning with that boy, with those trapped souls—it's not right."
"You dare—"
"Half your guard agrees with me," Elena interrupts calmly. "We've all seen the prisoners you keep. The experiments. The dark magic that's been corrupting this palace for years. We've stayed silent because we're soldiers. We follow orders."
"Then follow THIS order!" the King roars.
"No." Elena's voice is gentle but firm. "Not anymore. Prince Caspian has never led us wrong. He's earned our loyalty through deed, not fear. You've only earned our silence."
Other guards step forward, positioning themselves between us and the King. Not all of them—maybe ten out of twenty. But enough.
My father looks at me with pure hatred. "You've turned my own men against me."
"You did that yourself," I reply. "By being a tyrant."
"I am a KING!"
"Kings serve their people. You only serve yourself."
The King's hand shoots out, dark magic crackling around his fingers. "Then I'll kill you all—"
A wall of ice erupts from the floor, blocking his attack. But I didn't create it.
I turn to see Seraphina standing, one hand raised, golden light mixing with blue ice. She's channeling our bonded magic without me even trying.
"Fascinating," the King breathes, his anger replaced by hungry interest. "The bond is already that strong? The things I could do with power like that—"
"You won't touch her," I growl.
"Oh, I won't kill her, son. She's far too valuable." His smile is predatory. "I'll just keep her. Study her. Use her magic to complete my real work. And you can watch, locked in the same cell where I kept her brother."
Lucian whimpers behind us.
"Over my dead body," Seraphina says, her voice shaking but determined.
"That can be arranged."
The King pulls something from his robes—another crystal, larger than the ones before. Inside, I see not one face but dozens. Hundreds. Souls trapped and screaming.
"Do you know what happens when you combine enough soul magic?" the King asks conversationally. "You become immortal. Powerful beyond measure. I've been collecting souls for ten years. Waiting for the right catalyst."
He looks at Seraphina with terrifying hunger.
"Your bloodline magic is that catalyst. With you, I can finally transcend mortality. Become something more than human. More than king."
"You're insane," I breathe.
"I'm ambitious." He raises the massive crystal. "Now, you have two choices, Caspian. Give me the girl willingly, or watch everyone in this room die screaming."
Elena and the loyal guards draw their weapons. "We won't let you—"
"You can't stop me."
The King crushes the crystal in his bare hand.
The souls inside don't disperse like my father-in-law's did. Instead, they pour into him, screaming and writhing. His body convulses as hundreds of spirits merge with his flesh.
When he looks up, his eyes are pure black. Void-like. Wrong.
"I gave you all a chance," he says, and his voice is layered with a hundred screaming voices. "Now you'll serve me as these souls do. Starting with you, son."
He points at me, and dark magic slams into my chest.
Pain explodes through every nerve. I fall to my knees, gasping. It feels like my soul is being ripped from my body.
"Caspian!" Seraphina screams.
"Don't worry, dear," the King—no, the THING wearing my father's face—says to her. "I'm not killing him. I'm claiming his soul for my collection. He'll live forever inside me, screaming."
"NO!" Seraphina's magic explodes outward, golden light flooding the room.
But it's not enough. The King's power, amplified by hundreds of souls, is too strong. He laughs as her magic washes over him harmlessly.
"Adorable. But futile." He returns his attention to me, and I feel my soul starting to tear loose. "Any last words, my disappointing son?"
I look at Seraphina, at her terrified face, at Lucian cowering behind her.
And I smile.
"Yeah. Duck."
Seraphina's eyes widen in understanding. She throws herself and Lucian to the ground.
I release every bit of ice magic I have left, not at my father, but at the ceiling above him.
The ancient stone, weakened by the earlier explosions and magical battles, shatters. Tons of rock and timber come crashing down.
The King looks up too late.
The ceiling buries him in rubble.
Silence falls. Dust fills the air. I can't breathe, can't think, can barely move.
"Caspian!" Seraphina is suddenly beside me, her hands on my face. "Are you okay? Your soul—"
"Still attached. Barely." I cough, tasting blood. "Is he...?"
The rubble explodes outward.
The King rises from the debris, his body twisted and wrong. Parts of him are translucent now, more spirit than flesh. The souls have merged with him completely, transforming him into something neither living nor dead.
"You'll have to do better than that," he hisses in that horrible multi-voice.
Then he looks past us, toward the door, and smiles.
"Ah. Perfect timing."
I turn to see Morgana standing in the doorway, that sweet lady-in-waiting who's been serving Seraphina.
She's holding a knife.
And she's smiling the same cruel smile as the King.
"Hello, princess," Morgana says to Seraphina. "Did you miss me? Because I've been waiting five years to finish what I started."
Seraphina's face goes white. "What?"
"I'm the one who let the soldiers into your palace," Morgana says pleasantly. "I'm the one who told them where your family was hiding. I'm the one who betrayed you all."
She steps into the room, and I see the mark on her neck—a slave brand, pulsing with dark magic.
"And now," Mo
rgana continues, "I'm going to help the King take everything from you. Starting with your soul."