niThe air inside the Ravenshade drawing room was heavy. Shadows from the high windows stretched long across the stone floor as the sun dipped behind the hills. Lysandra stood before her brothers, her hands calmly clasped in front of her—though inside, her heart thudded like a warning drum.
Carlos sat with arms crossed, jaw tense, as Alaric leaned near the fireplace, expression unreadable.
> "I'm leaving," Lysandra said quietly. "I need to—for the safety of the child… and myself."
Carlos's brows knit together. "You can't just vanish, Lysandra. What about the Council? What if something happens to you out there?"
She met his eyes with quiet resolve. "I'm not going alone."
Kylan stepped forward from behind her, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. "She'll be with me."
Alaric's gaze flicked to the gesture, his tone sharp. "So it's true then? The child is yours?"
A beat of silence.
Lysandra nodded once. "Yes. Kylan is the father."
Carlos looked between them, struggling to process it. "And you're just going to run off and hide with him? Without protection? Without even letting us know where?"
> "Carlos—"
> "No!" he snapped, standing up. "I get that you want peace. I get that you're scared. But you're our sister, Lysandra. And this—this child—is now part of us. You don't get to cut us out like we're strangers."
> "That's not what I'm doing," Lysandra said firmly, stepping closer. "I just need space. Somewhere the Council won't look. Somewhere I won't wake up every day wondering if they'll sense the bloodline."
Alaric's voice cut in, smooth but firm. "Then you won't leave unless we know exactly where you're going."
Lysandra's eyes narrowed. "Alaric—"
> "No compromises," he said. "We've lost you once before, Lysandra. We're not losing you again."
Kylan straightened. "We'll go to the estate of my aunt, Nyra Moirel. It's hidden at the edge of the human realm. Protected by old magic, cut off from the influence of both the Council and Elites. Even if someone suspects, they'll never find us there."
Alaric nodded slowly, weighing his words. "Nyra... I've heard of her. A rebel, exiled for defying the Council."
> "That's why it's safe," Kylan replied. "She owes them nothing. And she'll protect Lysandra with her life if I ask it."
Carlos exhaled hard, his frustration bleeding into reluctant understanding. "You'll contact us every week. That's not negotiable."
Lysandra softened. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Carlos. "I promise."
Carlos pulled her close, holding her longer than necessary. "You always make things hard, little sister."
> "I know."
She turned to Alaric. He didn't move, just looked at her in silence. But his eyes said enough. He stepped forward and gently touched her forehead with his own.
> "Protect the child," he murmured. "And yourself. That's all I care about."
> "I will."
Alaric looked over her shoulder at Kylan. "If anything happens to her—"
> "It won't," Kylan said firmly. "Not while I breathe."
Alaric gave a tight nod. "Then go. Before I change my mind."
---
As Lysandra and Kylan prepared for their departure that night, Ravenshade stood silent. No ceremony. No farewells from the household. Only two brothers at the gate, watching their sister vanish into the night with a man who was now both her protector and shield.
And a secret that could shatter kingdoms—growing quietly inside her.
Madeline's Bedroom
Madeline sat at her vanity, brushing her hair, though her eyes stared past the mirror.
The confrontation replayed in her head over and over again. His face—calm, guiltless—yet filled with sorrow not meant for her.
She thought marriage might change things. That maybe, over time, he would come to care.
But she had married a ghost.
She placed the brush down, her hand trembling. Slowly, she reached for a drawer and pulled out an envelope. Inside it was the annulment agreement she had quietly prepared but never had the courage to sign.
Until now.
Madeline inhaled deeply and dipped her pen in ink.
> "I release you, Caveen Vellaria, from this union."
With each stroke of the pen, her heart shattered—yet rebuilt itself. She would no longer be a placeholder in someone else's love story.
She folded the paper, sealed it with wax, and stared at it one last time.
> "You may have left me, Caveen," she whispered, "but tonight, I choose to leave you too."
She stood tall, letting the tears fall only in silence.
The Vilmire estate was wrapped in silence as Madelline stepped out of the black car, her heels clicking against the marble steps of her father's ancestral mansion. She clutched the now-signed divorce papers—papers she had delivered to Caveen just that morning. He hadn't said a word. He had only stared at her, that cold, haunted look in his eyes making her stomach twist.
She had barely stepped inside the grand hall when a furious voice echoed across the foyer.
> "MADELLINE!"
She flinched.
Lord Vilmire stood at the top of the staircase, his cane clutched tightly in one gloved hand, the other resting against the banister as if steadying the fury in his blood. His dark eyes blazed with rage and something else—fear.
> "Come. Upstairs. Now."
Madelline followed, heart pounding, as the massive wooden doors to his study slammed shut behind her.
> "What the hell were you thinking?" Renatus spat, his voice low but venomous. "You served divorce papers to the hybrid prince of the three clans like you were walking away from a petty marriage?"
> "He doesn't love me," Madelline said sharply, lifting her chin. "He doesn't even touch me. He never stays home. I'm just a formality in his life—"
> "You are his wife!" Renatus roared, slamming his cane onto the floor with a thunderous crack. "That alone should have been enough! You had one purpose in this union, Madelline—birth his heir!"
Her breath caught, but she didn't waver. "I'm not some breeding vessel for your ambition, Father. I'm done pretending this marriage is anything but hollow—"
Lord Vilmire crossed the room in two strides and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her. "You think this is about your feelings? You think I spent decades hiding our legacy for you to choose love?"
Madelline wrenched away. "What are you talking about?"
He stared at her, breathing hard. Then, as if the weight of centuries fell upon his shoulders, he sank into the leather chair behind his desk and gestured for her to sit. She remained standing.
> "The Vilmire name… it is not what you think," Lord Vilmire began, voice hoarse. "We were once powerful. Feared. We are descendants of Lucille—the eighth child of Lucifer himself—and her consort, Duke Koa, a human duke who nearly broke the elite-human treaty."
Madelline's breath left her.
> "You lie," she whispered.
> "Do I?" He opened a drawer and pulled out an ancient book, bound in cracked black leather and scorched with arcane markings. "This is the Vilmire Grimoire. You were never meant to see it. But you forced my hand."
He opened to a page marked with a burned sigil: twin flames curled around a black crown.
> "Lucille bore the Black Flame—a cursed bloodline so powerful it could ignite death and bend shadows to its will. That flame passed into our veins. It sleeps in our family now, diluted through the generations. But with the right vessel… with a child born of Caveen—of Nexus, Moonwell, and Carello blood—the Black Flame would awaken."
Madelline staggered back. "You… married me off so I could… breed a demon child?"
> "No," Lord Vilmire snapped. "A god. A god of fire, shadow, and rebirth. With Caveen's blood and yours combined, the child would be unstoppable. It would unify the clans—or destroy them. Either way, our bloodline would rule again."
She shook her head in horror. "I would never bring such a child into this world."
> "You already have the contract," He said coldly. "You married into it. Whether you like it or not, Madelline, you are the key."
Madelline's hands trembled. "Caveen doesn't even want me. He's in love with someone else. Maybe… maybe he already has a child with her."
Renatus's eyes narrowed. "That… cannot be."
> "It's possible," she said, voice breaking. "He never loved me. He never even tried."
Lord Vilmire stood, looming over her now like a man resurrected from legend.
> "Then find out. Now. Because if Caveen has fathered a child outside this union—and that child is born first—the Black Flame will awaken in them instead. And they will be ours to destroy, not control."
Madelline's eyes widened in horror as the implications hit her.
The child… if it existed… was already in danger.
> "What are you going to do?" she whispered.
Lord Vilmire turned away. "That depends on you, daughter. Will you protect our legacy… or be buried by it?"