Seraphina's POV
"That's impossible."
My voice echoes in the vault, bouncing off stolen treasures and magical artifacts. But the mirror doesn't lie. My father's face stares back at me from within the shadow creature, his features twisted into something cruel and hungry.
"Father?" Lucian whispers beside me, his voice small and broken. "But we saw him. His ghost saved me—"
"That wasn't his real soul," Elena says grimly. "That was just a fragment. A piece he left behind in the crystal. The rest of him..." She gestures at the mirror. "The rest became that thing."
I can't breathe. Can't think. My father—the man who taught me to read, who tucked me in at night, who called me his little star—is the monster that's been hunting us?
"No." I shake my head violently. "Father would never—"
"Look at the mirror, princess," Elena says gently. "Really look."
I force myself to see past the horror. In the reflection, the real King Aldric sits chained in a cell. And behind him, the shadow creature writhes and shifts. But now I can see what I missed before.
The creature isn't just souls merged together randomly. It's organized. Controlled. And at its center, wearing the others like armor, is my father's soul—fully conscious, fully aware.
Fully in control.
"He didn't sacrifice himself to save Lucian," I whisper. "He sacrificed himself to become THIS."
"The blood magic ritual," Elena says. "When your father's ghost merged with Lucian, he left behind most of his soul—the corrupted part. And that part merged with all the other trapped souls, including the ones in the King's body."
My legs give out. I sink to the floor, my mind reeling.
"Why?" Lucian's voice cracks. "Why would Father do this?"
The mirror ripples again. My father's face appears more clearly now, and when he speaks, his voice comes through—distorted but recognizable.
"Because I had no choice, my son."
We all freeze.
"The prophecy your mother mentioned," my father continues, his voice echoing from the mirror. "It's older than she knew. Older than our kingdom. When Aldric and Thorne bloodlines merge, they create power that can either destroy death itself—or become death's master."
"You wanted immortality," I breathe. "Just like the King."
"Not just immortality, daughter. Transcendence." My father's shadow-form shifts, revealing more trapped souls screaming silently. "I've been planning this for twenty years. Long before the invasion. Long before you were born."
"Liar!" I scream. "You loved us! You loved Mother—"
"I did love your mother. In my way." His tone is almost gentle, which makes it worse. "But love is temporary. Power is eternal. When I discovered the prophecy, I knew what I had to do. I had to arrange for my bloodline to merge with Thorne's."
Elena's face goes pale. "You planned the invasion. Not King Aldric. You."
"The King was my tool, nothing more. I've been whispering in his mind for years, slowly corrupting him with dark magic. Making him obsessed with immortality. Making him believe conquering Aldoria was his idea." My father laughs, and it sounds like breaking glass. "He thought he was the one in control. He never realized I was puppeting him all along."
I feel sick. "You let him kill Mother. Kill our family—"
"Necessary sacrifices." His voice hardens. "I needed their souls to begin the transformation. I needed you traumatized enough to develop your blood magic. I needed the perfect conditions for the prophecy to unfold."
"And Caspian?" My voice shakes. "Did you arrange for me to marry him too?"
"Of course. The King believed forcing you to marry his son would give him control over your combined power. He never realized I was the one who suggested it." My father's smile is monstrous. "Everything has gone according to plan. You bonded with the Thorne prince. Your magic awakened. And now, when I consume both of you, I'll finally achieve what I've worked toward for decades."
"You're insane," Lucian says flatly.
"I'm enlightened. There's a difference." My father's attention shifts to my brother. "I'm sorry you suffered, Lucian. That wasn't part of the plan. But your pain served a purpose—it made you desperate enough to use blood magic, which helped corrupt you enough for me to influence."
"So everything Silva told me—"
"Was me, speaking through her. I've had servants throughout both kingdoms for years. Morgana. Silva. Even some of Caspian's guards." His smile widens. "Did you really think a human resistance could have orchestrated all this? Every move, every attack, every betrayal—I planned it all."
I can barely process this. My entire life has been a lie. A story written by a father I thought I knew.
"Why tell us?" Elena demands. "Why reveal your plan now?"
"Because it's already too late to stop me." The shadow in the mirror swells larger. "I'm not trapped in the King's body anymore. I AM the King's body. And right now, I'm walking through the palace with an army of controlled guards, heading straight for this vault."
My blood runs cold.
"You led us here," I breathe. "You wanted us to find this place."
"Exactly. The vault is where I've stored the final artifact I need—the Binding Crown." His eyes fix on my mother's crown, still glowing in my hands. "The very crown you're holding. With it, I can bind you and Caspian together permanently, merge your powers with mine, and become truly immortal."
"We'll destroy it first!" I raise the crown, ready to smash it.
"Go ahead," my father says calmly. "The moment that crown breaks, every magical ward protecting Caspian from my control will shatter. He'll become my puppet instantly."
I freeze, the crown trembling in my grip.
"That's right, daughter. Caspian has been protected by that crown's magic since the day he was born. His real mother—before the King executed her—was an Aldric. A distant cousin of mine." My father's revelation hits like a physical blow. "Caspian has Aldric blood. That's why you two could bond so quickly. That's why the prophecy chose you both."
"No," I whisper.
"Yes. And when I take his body, I'll have access to both bloodlines at once. I won't even need to consume you anymore, Seraphina. I'll just take your husband and let you watch as I wear his face while destroying everything you love."
Footsteps echo in the tunnel behind us. Heavy. Synchronized. An army approaching.
"He's here," Elena whispers, drawing her sword.
The real King Aldric's face appears in the mirror one last time, desperate and pleading. He mouths words I can barely make out:
Kill me. Please. End this.
But my father's shadow-form wraps around him, choking off his plea.
"See you soon, children," my father says cheerfully. "Don't bother running. There's only one exit, and I'm standing in it."
The mirror goes dark.
We're trapped in a vault with my mother's crown, which I can't destroy without dooming Caspian. An army of controlled guards is closing in, led by my father's soul wearing the King's body. And somewhere up above, Caspian is fighting alone.
"What do we do?" Lucian asks, his voice small.
I look at the crown in my hands. At the vault full of magical artifacts. At Elena, ready to die fighting. At my baby brother, who's been through hell and still hasn't broken.
And I make a decision.
"We don't run," I say, my voice steady despite my fear. "We fight. But not here."
"What are you thinking?" Elena asks.
I point at the artifacts around us. "Father collected these for power. But he can't use them if they're destroyed. We blow this vault. Collapse it. Bury everything so he can't have it."
"That'll bring down half the palace!"
"Good. It'll slow him down." I turn to Lucian. "Can you do blood magic? Real magic, not the corrupted kind Father taught you?"
He nods slowly. "I think so. Father's fragment showed me how when he healed me."
"Then here's the plan. We rig this vault to explode. You and Elena escape through that air shaft." I point to a vent in the ceiling. "I'll hold Father off long enough for the explosion, then run."
"Absolutely not," Elena says firmly. "I'm not leaving you—"
"You have to. Someone needs to warn Caspian about what's really happening. About what Father is." I meet her eyes. "And someone needs to make sure Lucian survives. If we both die here, Father wins completely."
Elena looks like she wants to argue, but she knows I'm right.
"What about the crown?" Lucian asks.
I stare at it, my mother's voice still echoing in my head. Trust your husband. He's the key to everything.
"I'm keeping it," I decide. "If it protects Caspian from Father's control, then I won't let Father have it."
"But if it breaks—"
"Then we'll deal with that when it happens." I slip the crown into my bag. "Now go. Set up the explosives. Blood magic can overload these artifacts, make them unstable."
Lucian hesitates, then hugs me fiercely. "Don't die, Sera."
"Not planning to," I lie.
He and Elena climb toward the air shaft. I turn to face the tunnel entrance, my magic crackling around my fists.
The footsteps are getting closer. I can hear my father's voice now, humming a lullaby he used to sing when I was little.
It makes my skin crawl.
Then he appears at the tunnel entrance—wearing King Aldric's face but moving wrong, speaking wrong, BEING wrong.
"Hello, little star," my father says with the King's mouth. "Ready to come home?"
Behind him, dozens of guards with empty eyes file into the chamber.
I raise my hands, golden magic blazing bright.
"I am home," I say clearly. "And you're not my father anymore."
He tilts his head, studying me. Then smiles.
"That's my girl. Your mother would be so proud."
And suddenly, impossibly, I feel my mother's presence. Not a ghost. Not a memory. Something else.
The crown in my bag begins to glow.
My father's eyes widen in shock. "No. That's not possible. I consumed her soul—"
"You consumed a piece," my mother's voice whispers from the crown. "Just like you left a piece in the crystal. I left pieces everywhere, husband. Insurance against your betrayal."
The crown's light spreads through the vault, touching every artifact.
"Seraphina, RUN!" my mother screams.
The artifacts explode.
Not all at once—one by one, in a cascade of magical detonations that shake the entire palace.
I sprint for the tunnel as the vault collapses behind me. My father screams in rage, his controlled guards destroyed in the blasts.
But I hear him following. He's not dead. Not even slowed.
And then I see Caspian at the end of the tunnel, bloodied but alive, reaching for me.
"Jump!" he yells.
I leap as the final explosion erupts behind me.
Caspian catches me, and we tumble together as the tunnel seals itself in rubble.
For a moment, we just lie there, coughing dust, holding each other.
"Your father," Caspian gasps. "He's—"
"I know," I say. "He's everything. He planned everything."
"The crown—"
"I have it. But Caspian, there's something you need to know about yourself—"
A hand bursts through the rubble.
My father's hand, attached to the King's arm, emerging from tons of collapsed stone.
"You can't run forever," his voice echoes from the debris. "I'll always find you. I'm in your blood."
And then I feel it—a pull, deep in my chest. Like a string connecting me to him.
Blood calling to blood.
"No," I whisper.
Caspian grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. "Whatever he is, whatever he's done—you're not him. You're NOT him."
But the pull gets stronger.
My father climbs from the rubble, his stolen body broken and reforming, powered by hundreds of screaming souls.
"Time to come home, daughter," he says. "Wheth
er you want to or not."
And I feel my body start to move toward him against my will.
My own blood, betraying me.