High Lord Rhysand - Tumblr Posts

"There you are, I've been looking for you" -Rhysand

(Like or reblog, don't repost pls🖤)

hi! can I request a Rhysand from ACOTAR x reader where she is actually his mate but he had made his choice with Feyre and she is just soo heartbroken by it but instead later on she and Azriel fell in love and it all works out in the end? thank you!

A/n: Sure you can love, I am so so sorry for how long its taken ne to get to these. My inbox is so full and I'm just useless. Hope y'all enjoy- constructive criticism is welcome, but as always please be polite 😊🥰

The Next World

Rhysand looked over the small female. She was High Fae, but her stature was petite and fragile.

She was beautiful, but in his eyes, she was no Feyre. He had already comitted to Feyre, already vowed himself to her.

He loved Feyre, but he did not love the female in front of him.

Why did it have to be this way? She was so nice, so deserving of love and so deserving of a mate. And now he had to break her heart

He glanced at her eyes for a moment, then looked away. This isn't fair. His mate wasn't coming. That's why he chose Feyre in the first place and now there can be no one else.

Her eyes were welled up with tears and despite her begging, she knew what was coming.

Rhysand forced himself to look her in the eyes as he spoke, no matter how much harder it made things.

"I'm sorry. I've made my choice. You should probably go." He tried to say it gently, but the words sounded harsh even to his own ears.

Rhys winced, it was as if he could see he heart in her eyes, it was as if he was watching it physically break.

Without another word, she turned and walked towards the front door of the estate, no tears left her eyes until she felt the fresh breeze of the city on her face.

Why did her mate find a love away from her? How was that fair at all? How was she going to face the Inner Circle tomorrow, knowing about the bond.

Knowing that it will never be accepted. Feeling as though she will never be accepted.

She felt numb. But she also hurt.

How can you feel nothing, but also be hurting at the same time? How was that fair?

She seemed to be asking herself that question a lot lately, and as she pushed open the door to a bar hoping to drink away her sorrows, she realized: nothing is fair.

Not in this world and not in the next.

Sighing, she makes her way to a secluded little corner at the bar, trying to avoid being seen by Cassian, Azriel and Mor who were all laughung and drinking together.

It felt like a taunt, they were happy now and they could go home and sleep well and the next day when the time came to visit Feyre and Rhys, there would be no hesitation. They would be greeted with smiles and hugs.

They would be greeted with love. And she would not.

When the bartender brought her her drink she smiled and slurped half of it down in one go. Her face felt cold from residual tears and her eyes felt stiff and dry.

She looked back up to the group she was trying to avoid only to realise that Azriel was no longer there.

Probably gone home, maybe with another female, or even a male. To be happy, or at least content with another for tonight.

The concept felt so far away, she felt as if she'd never be happy again. Especially with someone else.

A warm hand covered her shoulder and she turned around quickly, whipping out a fisted hand, only for her wrist to be caught.

Shadows curled around her wrist and reached up her arm. With a gasp, she inspected the intruder's face and realised that Azriel was standing behind her.

"Why the long face?" He asked and as much as she wanted to retort back, as soon as she opened her mouth, her throat closed up and tears burned behind her eyes again.

She looked away from the male and stared into the half-empty cup in her hands.

"What's up buttercup?" He asked again, sliding into the stool next to her and craning his neck to see her face.

She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just say 'What's up buttercup?'?" She asked and he gave a small smile as he nodded.

"What's wrong with that?" She shook my head at his words.

"Nothing. It's just stranger hearing the word buttercup slip from the spymaster's lips in such a playful way." She told him, wishing she could smile.

She enjoyed being around Azriel, he made her laugh and he made her feel comfortable. But right now, it felt so impossibly hard to feel happy.

"I'm not the spymaster right now. I'm Azriel, your friend and I'm here to help. Now, you gonna keep a secret from the spymaster?" He nudged her side and she ket out a sigh.

"I thought you weren't the spymaster tonight?"

"Well not actively. But it's not like I can just turn it off." He shrugged cockily. If it was any other day she would've laughed. She tried, but it felt as though she would never laugh again.

"Az... Rhysand is my mate." Shock clanged through him at her words.

"What?"

"He's my mate. And he doesn't want me."

"Oh my god."

🔸️

It had been a week since Rhysand's rejection and no one from the Inner Circle had seen Y/n since.

Except for Azriel.

She didn't show up for lunch the next day and she didn't appear for any meetings or meet-ups.

Mor and Cassian were worried and guilt was eating at Feyre, she felt it was her fault.

Rhysand was destroyed by guilt, he hadn't seen her in person since everything went down, but though the bond was quieting, it was as if he could feel her heartbreak through the bond.

But he could also feel something else, he didn't know what it was, but he thinks it is the reason he can feel the bond breaking.

Azriel had been spending all his spare moments with her, dedicating himself to making her feel better and helping her realise that she doesn't need a mate to be happy.

She doesn't need Rhys.

And she knows. She doesn't need Rhys, she has never needed him. The bomd had made her mind go whacky.

If she had let it continue taking over herself, she may have needed him. She was ready to as well, then Azriel put his hand on her shoulder.

Azriel smiled at her and got her to tell him what was happening.

Azriel called her a buttercup.

She hadn't smiled that night, but when she went to bed she questioned herself.

Why dodn't she smile that night? Azriel makes her smile. Why is she letting Rhysamd get in the way of that.

Of everything.

He doesn't want her and while it hurts, there is nothing she can do about it.

But she can find someone who does want her.

Her friends want her, maybe not in the way she would've been with a mate, but they love her and they want her.

A knock sounded on the door and everyone fell silent. They knew the scent and they knew who was at the door.

Feyre went to answer.

The group couldn't see what was happening, but they could hear the words exchanged.

"Y/n..."

"Is everyone here already?"

"Y/n I-" Feyre was cut off by a thumping noise.

Did she punch her?

The group got off the couch and walked into the entry hall to see Y/n and Feyre standing there wrapped in a hug.

Feyre was whispering 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' and Y/n was just shaking her head.

Rhysand gave a soft smile at the scene in front of him. Through the slightly crumbling bond between them, he could feel Y/n healing.

When Feyre and Y/n pulled apart, everyone wanted their turn. There was almost a line in front of her while they waited for their hug too.

Rhys could feel Y/n's hesitation amd he didn't want to push it so he didn't get in line.

Then it was Azriel's turn.

He engulfed her and her small body pretty much disappeared into his as they hugged.

He squeezed her tightly and they stayed like that for a long moment, longer than the rest, inhaling each other's scents and revelling in the comfort of one another.

Rhys noticed. And he smiled. He knew why she was healing.

🔸️

It had been almost five months since Rhys had rejected the mating bond between him and Y/n.

If you looked really, really hard, it was still there. But it was faint and he could no longer feel her emotions, hear any words she let down the bond. It was pretty much non-existent.

And Y/n no longer cared. Of course she cared about Rhysand. They were still friends, in fact they were quite close after everything that had happened.

But she didn't need him the way she might've. She did need Azriel though.

And Azriel needed her.

They sat together on Azriel's couch, well, they layed together.

Azriel layed on the couch and she lay on top of him, his arms around her waist and keeping her from slipping off.

"Y/n?"

She hummed in response, but her eyes were still glazed over sleepily.

"Do you ever wish Rhys had picked you?" His voice was quiet.

"No." She replied with absolutely no hestitation.

"Why?"

"Because I love you and I am happier with you than I could ever be with Rhys. It's almost as if I left Rhys in the world behind me. You are my new world. And I would never wish for anything else." Her words were sweet, her voice was smooth and her eyes were soft.

Azriel was overcome with the love he felt for her. He lifted his wings up and wrapped them around her body tightly.

She felt warm and safe wrapped up in his arms and wings, surrounded by his scent and his love and also his shadows.

They weren't mates, but it didn't matter. They were in love.

𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓷 𝓕𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓭✨

Soooooo what if Rhysands sister doesn’t actually die?

What if she is taken by the Asteri/Valgs and raised in their own realm where she is trained and manipulated for their own purposes because they know how powerful she is?

What if her powers are completely different from Rhysand’s?

What if they have completely erased her past memories and made her a cold soldier?

What if she later on was allowed to travel all the universes with them EXCEPT Prythian?

What if she was there during the events that happened in TOG and CC?

What if she played a key role in the Asteri/valgs maintaining their power?

What if after Bryce killed them, she is out for blood because she was loyal to the core to the Asteri/valgs?

What if she goes after the Crescent city gang?

What if Rhysand and the whole IC end up finding out about this? About her?

And most of all….what if her mate is Ruhn Danaan? (Imagine Lydia doesn’t exist in this timeline)

What if I end up writing about this?

Well, I absolutely did.

The first chapter of The Hidden Legacy will be out soon;)

The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series

Chapter 1: The Echoes of a Forgotten Name

Summary: Rhysand’s sister, Seraphis, long thought dead, was taken by the Asteri/Valgs, her memories erased and turned into a ruthless killer loyal to their cause. After Bryce kills the Asteri, Seraphis seeks vengeance on her and everyone else involved. As she hunts them down, Rhysand and the Inner Circle discover the shocking truth: she’s alive, and now their enemy.

See masterlist

Chronomancy: The mastery of time, allowing one to bend, twist, and manipulate the fabric of temporal reality.

The Asteri realm, once an epitome of unyielding power, now lay in ruins. The remnants of it's dark grandeur whispered of a time when it reigned supreme. Shadows flitted through the crumbling architecture, now an empty expanse where the only echoes were those of a fallen empire. The stillness was profound, the silence punctuated only by the faint hum of residual magic.

Amid the debris walked Seraphis, her presence a stark contrast to the desolation around her. Clad in a black cloak that fluttered with her steps, she was a figure of cold determination. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the remnants of what had been the heart of the Aster's domino. To her, this destruction was not merely a loss but a catalyst for a deeper mission.

Seraphis' existence had been shaped entirely by the Asteri. From a young age, she was taken and molded into their perfect soldier. They told her that her parents had abandoned her, leaving her out on the streets as a newborn to die. She was an orphan with no form of family, no parents or siblings. Her upbringing was harsh and uncompromising. She was trained to harness the full spectrum of temporal manipulation--abilities that allowed her to travel through time, reverse it's flow, and manipulate it's very essence. The Asteri had crafted her to be both a weapon and a guardian of their interests.

Under their guidance, Seraphis had become a master of time's complexities. Once she was old enough and they deemed her fit for it, the Asteri took her with them to new world's as they went on conquering--no sharing their greatness with the world. That's how she ended up joining them when they would go from one universe to another, her time-manipulating power's growing stronger with each time.

She remembers how in Erilea she would send Maeve and Erawan the direct orders coming from the six Asteri. Of course, no one was more pissed than Seraphis when that Aelin Galathynius and her lapdogs ended up winning the war. Well, atleast they got rid of incompetent idiots like Maeve and Erawan. She also played a covert role in the shadowy events that unfolded, aiding the Valgs in their machinations and ensuring their influence remained unchecked. She had begged Polaris, The North Star, to let her go finish what Erawan couldn't but...they didn't allow her, seeing her as too valuable to risk.

When the Asteri's control extended to Midgard, Seraphis continued her work with the same ruthless efficiency. She wove through the intricate tapestry of its politics and power struggles, her presence a silent but undeniable force. Her actions, often unseen, played a key role in the Asteri's manipulation of the city's dynamics.

Now with the fall of the Asteri and their defeat at the hands of Bryce Quinlan, Seraphis found herself in a new reality. The Asteri, the only family--no matter how cruel--she had ever known, were gone, and their cause lay in ruins. Austrus, Eosphoros, Hesperus, Octartis, Polaris, Sirius, Vesperus and....Rigelus.

Oh, Rigelus.

Though millions of years older than her, Seraphis was the only being ever that Rigelus didn't look down on. Instead, he saw her as a close second, always being kind towards her--or as kind as someone like him could be. The respect and authority she held over everyone else just like Rigelus and the other Asteris was impressive.

Seraphis wouldn't call what they had with him love. No, a far cry from that. More like a sick obsession and posession that he felt towards her, always having her watched and protected, kept by his side on every event and conquest. And Seraphis loved every moment of it. She didn't care if that made her look sick, yearning for his and only his attention.

No one could ever understand what she and him had anyway.

Does it matter now? No. No, it doesn't.

Their loss ignited a fierce loyalty within her, driving her to seek vengeance. Those Midgard rats, particularly the bastard Bryce Quinlan, had disrupted everything she had been programmed to protect. Seraphis's focus was singular and unyielding. Her powers, unparalleled in their scope, were a tool for her vengeance. The remnants of the Asteri's legacy would be avenged, and she would ensure that their enemies paid dearly for their defiance.

Maybe, maybe Rigelus was against her being in the battlefield and focusing more on improving her powers more for this very reason. Knowing him and how he would always be fifteen steps ahead of everyone, even his fellow Asteri's, Seraphis wouldn't be surprised if he knew something like this would happen and she would be left as the one to avenge them.

Seraphis’s thoughts were interrupted by a faint sound—a shuffle, almost imperceptible. Her head snapped toward the noise, eyes narrowing as a figure stepped out from behind a crumbled pillar.

The figure was hunched, draped in ragged robes that trailed on the ground, their face obscured by a deep hood. There was something otherworldly about them, an eerie stillness in their movements, as if they weren’t quite tethered to the reality around them.

An oracle, perhaps. Or one of the soulless travelers that drifted through the remnants of the universe, always seeking but never finding.

“You,” the stranger rasped, their voice a dry whisper carried by the wind. “You are lost.”

Seraphis’s expression remained impassive, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of a blade at her side. “I am not lost,” she replied, her voice cold. “I know exactly where I am.”

The traveler’s hooded head tilted slightly, as though studying her. “Do you? You walk among ruins, chasing ghosts of a fallen empire. What is it you seek, child of time?”

Seraphis bristled at the title, her grip tightening on the hilt of her blade. “That’s none of your concern.”

The figure seemed to sigh, a sound that echoed strangely in the empty space. “Vengeance is a heavy burden to bear. The threads of time do not forget. Every action leaves a scar, every choice a ripple. You of all beings should understand this.”

Seraphis regarded them with a penetrating stare. “The Asteri were my family. Their enemies are now my enemies. The vengeance I seek is not for solace but for justice.”

The stranger nodded slowly, their gaze thoughtful. “Justice and vengeance are often indistinguishable in the eyes of those who wield power. But remember, the threads of time you manipulate weave through all that exists. Even in vengeance, there are consequences that ripple forward.”

Seraphis stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “You speak in riddles. Say what you mean.”

The traveler raised a bony hand, palm out, as if to placate her. “I mean only this: Beware of the paths you walk, for time is not a line, but a web. Tug on one thread, and you may find yourself tangled in another. The truth you seek may not be the truth you remember.”

A flicker of unease stirred in Seraphis’s chest, but she pushed it aside. “I know my truth. I will restore the legacy of the Asteri.”

The traveler bowed their head slightly, as if in resignation. “Then may you find what you are searching for. But remember, time itself may turn against those who wield it carelessly.”

Seraphis said nothing, her jaw clenched as the traveler slowly turned away, disappearing into the shadows as if they had never been there at all.

She stood still for a moment, staring after them. Their words clung to the air, echoing in the empty halls of her mind. But she pushed them aside as she always had. There was no room for doubt, no room for hesitation.

There was only vengeance.

Seraphis remained standing, her figure outlined by the towering ruins of the Asteri realm as she watched the shadows engulf the mysterious traveler. Doubt was a weakness, a sentiment she had long been trained to overcome. Her purpose was clear.

Turning back to the wreckage of the Asteri empire, she let her gaze wander over the shattered remains, of what had once been untouchable. Each piece of debris, every crumbled wall, was a reminder of her mission--of the legacy she would rebuild through blood and retribution. The ancient cities, once towering, had now faded into dust, but she would ensure that their enemies would remember them. They would remember through pain, through fear, and through her.

She moved through the ruins with a calculated stride, her mind already spinning threads of time, pulling at the edges of the past. In her hands, time was no mere concept—it was a weapon, one she had sharpened over centuries. She had walked between the lines of history, bending it to the will of the Asteri. They had shaped her, honed her into the ultimate instrument of control.

Rigelus had always been there—overseeing her progress, pushing her further, demanding more. Where others would have seen cruelty, Seraphis had only seen purpose. His obsession with her, the cold possessiveness, had been her source of strength. It drove her to perfect her abilities, to become more than just a soldier. She was his favorite, his chosen, and she had relished every moment of his attention.

The whispers of time teased her now, fragments of events from Erilea and Midgard slipping through her consciousness. Maeve and Erawan had been her pawns, their strings manipulated under the orders of the Asteri. She had done their bidding, silently observing the collapse of entire worlds, her presence unknown to the mortal players. Aelin Galathynius, Bryce Quinlan—all of them had merely been cogs in the Asteri’s grand design, and yet, somehow, they had prevailed.

Seraphis’s jaw clenched. She could still remember the sting of watching Aelin ascend, of seeing Erawan fall. The threads of time she had woven through that world had come undone, slipping from her grasp, leaving her powerless to intervene. That Aelin had won infuriated her. She’d wanted to be there to ensure Erawan’s success, to be the force that would crush the rebellion—but Rigelus had forbidden it.

And now, Bryce Quinlan. Seraphis’s hands twitched, her magic itching at her fingertips. The half-fae princess had killed the Asteri, destroyed everything Seraphis had been built for. Seraphis knew that Bryce’s power over the Gate was formidable, but it wouldn’t save her. No, not when Seraphis had centuries of control over time at her disposal. The moment would come, and Bryce wouldn’t even see it approaching.

But she couldn’t rush. Not yet.

Seraphis knew that striking without preparation was foolish, especially after the Asteri had been blindsided. Bryce would be expecting retaliation, the remnants of Midgard’s population on high alert. Seraphis needed time to plan, to gather intelligence, to weave herself back into the folds of the worlds that were left.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d need allies.

She came to a halt at what had once been the central hall of the Asteri’s council. The chamber had once thrummed with power, where decisions that shaped entire worlds had been made. Now, only silence reigned here. Seraphis’s silver eyes flickered as she raised a hand, time itself responding to her unspoken command. The air shifted, the ruins stirring as she pulled at the threads of the past.

For a moment, the hall was whole again. The pillars straightened, the ceiling restored. Seraphis stood at the heart of it, watching as ghostly figures flickered into place. The Asteri council in all its glory—Rigelus at its helm, the others in their seats. She stepped forward, her fingers grazing the edge of the spectral table.

“I’ll restore it,” she whispered, her voice filled with cold resolve. “I’ll bring you back.”

She let go, and the illusion faded as time returned to the present. The ruins crumbled once more around her. The past, it seemed, was not yet willing to reveal its secrets.

But Seraphis knew it was only a matter of time before she’d be ready to act. The Asteri’s cause had not died with them, and neither had their most powerful soldier.

She turned, her cloak swirling around her as she left the council chamber behind. The traveler’s words, though dismissed, lingered in her mind like an unwanted guest. The idea of consequences—of time itself rebelling against her—was absurd. She controlled time. She was time. The scars she carved into the fabric of history were her own to shape.

As she stepped out into the barren expanse once more, the wind picked up, swirling dust into the air. Seraphis narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t alone.

A voice, soft and detached, called out to her again. “Still chasing ghosts, I see.”

Seraphis’s hand was on her blade in an instant as she turned toward the sound. The traveler from earlier stood at the edge of the ruin, watching her with the same unsettling stillness. This time, though, they did not approach.

“I thought I told you to leave,” Seraphis said, her voice a low growl.

The traveler smiled, though it didn’t reach their eyes. “I did. But time has a way of bringing us back to the places we least expect.”

Seraphis’s patience wore thin. “You enjoy speaking in riddles. Speak plainly or be gone.”

The traveler’s smile faded, their voice lowering. “I am not your enemy, Seraphis. But your path is darker than you realize.”

“I know my path,” she snapped. “And I don’t need your advice.”

The traveler studied her for a moment longer before nodding slowly. “Very well. But remember this—time is not as loyal as you think.”

With that, the traveler turned and walked into the wind, their form fading into the dust.

Seraphis stood there, alone once more, her mind already discarding the encounter. There was only one thing that mattered now: finding Bryce Quinlan and finishing what the Asteri had started.

She would bring time itself to its knees to see it done.

With a final glance at the desolate landscape that had once been the center of her life, she turned on her heel and began to walk, her steps deliberate, her mind racing with plans. She couldn't afford to waste any more time in this hollow place of memories. Midgard awaited her, Bryce and her puppets blissfully unaware of the storm that was coming for them.

Seraphis extended her hand, her fingers shimmering with the familiar hum of temporal power. She closed her eyes, focusing on the thread that would lead her to Midgard. Time bent to her will, the universe shifting around her as she tore through the veils of reality.

When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer in the ruined empire. The air was crisp and cold, the sky above a muted gray. She stood at the edge of Lunathion, the sprawling metropolis stretching out before her, it's towers scraping the sky.

For a moment, Seraphis took it all in--the hum of life and magic, the scent of the sea carried on the breeze, the distant sounds of the city's chaos. It was an intricate web of power, alliances and fragile peace. She would tear through it all.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her mind already calculating her next move. Bryce Quinlan might have been the one to kill the Asteri, but she wasn't foolish enough to think that her target would be that simple. Bryce wasn't alone--she had allies, strong ones, and it would take more than brute force to bring them all down.

No. She would need to be smarter, patient. The plan would unfold piece by piece, and by the time they realized what was happening, it would be too late. The city would be hers to dismantle, it's champions falling one by one.

Seraphis began to walk, blending into the crowd with ease, her hood low over her face. The streets were filled with fae, shifters, and ordinary citizens going about their lives, blissfully aware of the storm brewing in their midst.

This was no longer just about vengeance. It was about control--taking back what had been ripped ripped away from her. And Seraphis had no intention of stopping until the last remnants of these street rats were nothing more than dust.

Let the games begin.

Seraphis moved through the crowded streets of Lunathion like a shadow, unnoticed and undisturbed. She watched the people around her with detached curiosity, studying them, their movements, their habits. They lived in this world, so sure of their safety, of the new order that had come with the Asteri’s fall. Fools. 

The Asteri had been invincible for eons, and now that they were gone, these mortals believed themselves free. But freedom was an illusion, fragile as glass. Seraphis would shatter it.

Her power thrummed beneath her skin, the flow of time bending ever so slightly as she moved. With a mere thought, she could slow it to a crawl, watch the world freeze around her while she continued untouched. But now was not the time for such displays. Now was the time for observation, for patience.

She knew the city well, even if she had never set foot in it herself before now. Through the Asteri’s influence, she had seen Lunathion grow, its streets mapped out in her mind long before her arrival. The Asteri had ensured her knowledge was extensive, always keeping her one step ahead of their enemies. That was how she had operated—always in the shadows, just out of sight, but always present.

Bryce Quinlan was the key to it all. She had torn down the Asteri, and for that, she would suffer. But Bryce wasn’t the only one on her list. Hunt Athalar, Ruhn Danaan, and all the other lap dogs. All of them had played their part in toppling the only order Seraphis had ever known.

As she passed through an open market, Seraphis paused, her gaze locking onto a news holo-screen. The display flickered to life, showing a broadcast about the city’s newest heroes. Images of Bryce and her allies flashed across the screen, their faces well-known to everyone by now. The city had hailed them as saviors, but Seraphis only saw targets.

Her lips curled into a faint sneer. “Enjoy the limelight while it lasts,” she muttered under her breath. “It’ll all come crashing down soon enough.”

Without another glance, she moved on, slipping into an alleyway where she could plan her next steps in peace. She leaned against a brick wall, closing her eyes briefly as she reached out with her powers. Time was a river, flowing constantly, but she could see its branches, the possible futures that stretched out before her.

She saw herself confronting Bryce, the clash of power, the chaos that would unfold. But it was distant still—there were obstacles to remove first, pieces to shift into place. She saw glimpses of Bryce and her minions, saw them moving through their lives, unsuspecting. They had no idea she was here, that she was watching, waiting.

But something else stirred at the edges of her vision. Something… unfamiliar.

Seraphis frowned, her concentration breaking as she pulled back from the threads of time. There was a presence she hadn’t expected, a ripple she couldn’t quite place. Someone—or something—was watching her in return.

Her eyes snapped open, and she tensed, scanning her surroundings. The alley was empty, the market bustling just beyond, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being observed. Her hand moved instinctively to the blade at her hip, her muscles coiled for action.

“Show yourself,” she called softly, her voice low and dangerous.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, from the shadows at the far end of the alley, a figure emerged.

They were tall and cloaked, their face hidden beneath a deep hood. But unlike the ragged traveler she had encountered in the ruins, this one moved with purpose, with grace. There was a weight to their presence, a power that prickled at the edges of Seraphis’s awareness.

“Seraphis,” the figure said, their voice smooth and calm. “It’s been a long time.”

Seraphis’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her blade. “Who are you?”

The figure took a step closer, their movements slow and deliberate. “You don’t remember me, do you? Perhaps that’s for the best.”

Her patience was wearing thin. She stepped forward, her power surging to the surface, the air around her thickening as time began to bend. “I won’t ask again.”

The figure paused, as if considering their next words. “I’m not here to fight you. In fact, I’m here to offer you something.”

Seraphis’s eyes darkened. “I’m not interested in offers.”

“Oh, I think you will be,” the figure said, a hint of amusement in their voice. “You’re here for revenge, yes? To make those who wronged the Asteri pay?”

Seraphis remained silent, her gaze cold.

The figure chuckled softly. “You may be powerful, Seraphis, but even you can’t take on this crew alone. They have allies, resources—things you can’t even begin to imagine. But I can help you. I know things. I know their weaknesses.”

Seraphis tilted her head slightly, intrigued despite herself. “And why would you help me?”

The figure’s hood shifted as if they were smiling beneath it. “Let’s just say I have my own score to settle with Bryce Quinlan and her friends. We share a common enemy.”

Seraphis studied them for a long moment, her instincts on high alert. She didn’t trust easily—especially not strangers who appeared out of nowhere offering help. Whoever they were, they were dangerous. But perhaps, in this case, dangerous could be useful.

Seraphis let her hand fall from the blade at her hip, though her guard remained up. “You speak as though you know much. And yet, you haven’t even shown me your face.”

The figure laughed softly, a low, melodic sound. “Trust isn’t something freely given, is it? But for now, let’s keep things this way. You’ll find out more when the time is right.”

Seraphis’s eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, the figure stepped back, already fading into the shadows. “Find me when you’ve made up your mind,” they called over their shoulder, their voice trailing off. “You know where to look.”

And with that, they were gone. Only the stillness of the alley remained, along with the faint hum of magic in the air.

Seraphis stood there, contemplating the encounter. Whoever the stranger was, they clearly knew more than they let on. If they could be trusted—or if she could control them—they might be the key to speeding up her plans. For now, she’d keep her distance but watch closely. 

She pushed herself away from the wall, stepping back into the crowd, disappearing once again into the flow of this metropolis life. Her focus sharpened. She didn’t need anyone’s help—yet. She would deal with Bryce and her gang in her own way. But there was something about that presence earlier. It lingered, unsettling her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn't quite like anyone she'd known before.

Moving toward the heart of the city, Seraphis caught a flicker of movement to her left. Just a glance, quick, fleeting—but her gaze caught it in time. A tall figure, cloaked in shadows, moved through the market. For a split second, his profile appeared—just long enough for her to notice the tattoos curling up his arms, the way his eyes scanned the surroundings like a predator assessing the area.

Ruhn Danaan.

She didn’t know him. But as her gaze followed him for that brief moment, something stirred in her. A pull. It was faint, distant, almost unnoticeable. She clenched her jaw and forced it aside, refocusing her attention.

He turned a corner and vanished into the crowds, oblivious to her watchful eyes. 

Good. He should remain that way for now. Her target wasn’t him—not yet. She had bigger prey to hunt.

But as she moved away, that strange feeling lingered in the back of her mind.

Seraphis continued through bustling streets, her mind a storm of plans and calculations. She navigated the urban labyrinth with practiced ease, the weight of her mission pressing heavily on her shoulders. The city’s vibrant life was a stark contrast to the darkness she harbored within.

As she walked, she observed the people around her with a cold, analytical gaze. She noted their routines, their behaviors, and the various places that could serve her needs—resources, potential allies, or convenient places to remain hidden. The city had a pulse, a rhythm that she had to understand if she wanted to exploit its weaknesses.

Finally, she found a small, nondescript motel tucked away on a quieter street, away from the main thoroughfares. Its faded neon sign buzzed faintly in the dusk, and the building itself seemed to blend seamlessly into the backdrop of the city’s urban sprawl. It was perfect—low profile and unremarkable, a place where she could stay under the radar.

Seraphis pushed open the door to the motel with a practiced nonchalance, the bell above the entrance jingling softly as she stepped inside. The small lobby was dimly lit, and the air carried the faint, musty odor of old carpets and stale coffee. Behind the reception desk, a man sat hunched over a magazine, his eyes glancing up as she entered.

The man looked up, startled by her sudden appearance. He was in his mid-forties, with a graying beard and weary eyes. He quickly set the magazine aside, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to apprehension as he took in her commanding presence.

Seraphis walked up to the counter, her gaze sharp and unyielding. She placed a stack of cash—more than enough to cover the cost of a room—on the desk, her fingers lightly drumming on the surface as she spoke. “I need a room. Now.”

The man’s eyes widened as he took in the cash, and he gulped nervously. “Of course, ma’am. Right away.” He fumbled with a set of room keys, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to keep his composure.

Seraphis leaned closer, her voice a cold whisper. “I don’t want to be disturbed. Understand?”

The man nodded vigorously, his face pale. “Yes, yes, of course. Room 7. Just down the hall to the left.”

Without acknowledging him further, Seraphis took the key and turned to leave. The man watched her go, his relief palpable. As she walked down the narrow hallway, she heard him muttering under his breath, though she couldn’t make out the words. It was clear he was shaken, and that was exactly what she wanted.

Once she reached Room 7, Seraphis unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her with a decisive click. The room was small but adequate for her needs—a bed, a table, and a window overlooking the street below. She set her belongings on the table and began to prepare for her next steps, her mind already working through the plans she had laid out.

The motel’s ambiance, with its dull colors and low hum of activity, was perfect for laying low. The chaos outside was a useful cover, and she would use this time to strategize her moves carefully.

The hunt was just beginning and Midgard's fate hung in the balance.

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The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series

Chapter 2: Whispers of a Broken Future

Summary: Rhysand’s sister, Seraphis, long thought dead, was taken by the Asteri/Valgs, her memories erased and turned into a ruthless killer loyal to their cause. After Bryce kills the Asteri, Seraphis seeks vengeance on her and everyone else involved. As she hunts them down, Rhysand and the Inner Circle discover the shocking truth: she’s alive, and now their enemy.

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Obscura: A state of being hidden, unknown, or mysterious. A shadow over reality, obscuring what is true or real.

"Do you ever wonder who you really are, Seraphis?"

Rigelus' voice was a low murmur, almost soft as he circled around her, hands clasped behind his back. They stood in one of the private chambers of the Asteri's citadel, far from the cold, calculating halls she had grown used to. This place felt different. Smaller, more personal, with darkened windows that let in the faintest light from the distant stars.

Seraphis didn't answer. Her jaw clenched as she stared at the ground, resisting the pull of his voice, that hypnotic charm that he always used to get inside her head.

"You were nothing when we found you," he continued, coming to stand in front of her, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. "You didn't know your purpose. But we...we gave you one we made you into something extraordinary."

Her fists tightened at her sides. Every word felt like a knife, but it cut deeper because she believed him. Without the Asteri, she would have been lost--just another face forgotten in the endless void.

Rigelus stepped closer, so close she could feel his presence, warm and overwhelming, like the sun burning too bright. "You've always been special, Seraphis. More than any of the others. I see that in you. But you need to embrace what you are, fully."

"And what am I?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper, sharp with the weight of all her buried fears.

He smiled then, but it was not a kind smile. It was the smile of someone who knew he owned you, that you were his to mold, to control. "You are ours. Always."

The words hit her like a blow, but even worse was the fact that part of her wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe she belonged somewhere, even if it was in the darkness of their control.

"You can fight and run from it all you want," Rigelus whispered, his lips inches from her ear. "But the truth is, I will always catch you, my butterfly. Because without me, you are nothing."

The flash of that memory left Seraphis shaking as she stood in front of the window, staring out into the chaotic streets of Lunathion. Her whole life's purpose, was to serve the Asteri and their interests. They trained her differently than the others.

Hell, they didn't even bother with the others.

She was the first and the only being to ever get insight into the six legendary Asteris. To learn from them, to be with them, to be under their protection, their presence. She was special because they always told her so.

Austrus had even once told her that maybe someday in the future, she could be sitting just a foot below, on the second dais, as their first in command.

Well, that was never going to happen because they are all dead now.

How couldn't the others see it? See that the Asteri were always sharing greatness insetad of terror? Stupid mortals, so self-centered, such cowardly beings, always running away, easily scared.

But Bryce was't like them. Oh, no.

That little brat thought she could put on some brave pants and fight the Asteri. What a fool, what an idiot.

She didn't even stop to think that maybe just killing the Asteri doesn't mean the end of the story. That maybe, they had a plan B, C, D, all the way to Z in their hands.

Her lips twitched up in a smirk. And Seraphis was in all of those plans.

The smirk remained on her lips as she turned away from the window, her mind churning with the possibilities. She had been created for this exact moment, for the aftermath. The Asteri had always known that one day their reign might falter, and they had placed all their bets on her.

Seraphis moved to the bed, her fingers lightly brushing over the rough fabric of the blanket. She had no time to waste on sentiment. The game had changed, but the rules were still hers to follow. The Asteri had imbued her with every secret, every contingency, every weapon. And now it was time for her to step out from their shadow and finish what they had started.

Seraphis stared at the window from her seat on the bed, the hum of the city below barely registering in her head as her thoughts spun. It was a delicate balance--one that would take careful planning and precision. She couldn't afford to rush in blindly, not when the stakes were this high.

Her eyes narrowed as she considered her options. The easiest route would be to create small, targeted disruptions across the city—nothing large enough to draw attention from the wrong forces but enough to spark curiosity. Bryce and her crew would eventually notice, especially if the incidents had a familiar touch. She smirked at the thought. It wouldn’t take long before they came sniffing around, trying to understand what was happening. And by then, it would be too late.

She would start small. Plant seeds of unrest in the lower districts, where crime already simmered beneath the surface. A few well-placed provocations, and soon, the city’s order would begin to fray. Nothing too obvious—just enough to make the tension in Lunathion palpable. And then, when the cracks began to widen, she’d start to build the real trap. The kind that would lure Bryce and her friends into the open.

But that was only part of it. Seraphis needed to study them, learn their weaknesses, observe how they moved. It was crucial to find any cracks in their group, and she knew there had to be some. It was only a matter of time.

Her eyes moved away from the window, gazing right towards the wall. The beginnings of her plan were solid, but the details needed to be refined. The hunt for Bryce, her mate and her brother would take time, but she was patient. They would come to her when the city began to unravel.

A twisted smile tugged at her lips. Yes, she would tear their world apart piece by piece, just as Bryce had done to hers.

But first, she needed to light the match.

Seraphis moved toward the table, pulling out a map of the city she had acquired earlier. Spreading it across the table, she traced the streets with her fingers, marking down potential areas where she could plant her seeds of chaos. The slums. The docks. The underground markets.

She wouldn’t need to get her hands too dirty—there were always desperate souls willing to cause havoc for the right price. And she had more than enough resources to pay for what she needed.

Tonight, she would start small. She would test the waters, see how quickly the city reacted. And from there, she would expand her operations. The goal was to draw them out, after all. And when they came? Seraphis would be waiting.

Her lips twitched into a cold, calculating smile. It was time to remind Midgard that the Asteri’s legacy wasn’t dead. It lived on in her.

The pieces of her plan were slowly falling into place. And soon, so would Bryce.

Seraphis sat back in the stiff chair, her gaze sweeping over the map again, committing every detail to memory. She knew the city well enough from her previous reconnaissance-it's layout, it's strengths, it's weak points. The underground market was her first target.

And although it's name sounded similar to the underworld or the Meat market over which the Viper Queen ruled, they could not be more different. The underground is even darker than the Meat market, the lowest point one could ever reach. Whatever you wouldn't find in the underworld, you will most likely find in the underground.

It was a place where both criminals and so-called heroes found themselves entangled, and it would make the perfect starting point for the chaos that she intended to unleash.

With a few well-placed disruptions, the tension between the gangs and the enforcers would rise, and soon enough, word would reach Bryce’s ears. Seraphis didn’t care about the outcome of that petty conflict. The market’s collapse was merely a tool, a prelude to the greater plan.

But that was for later. First, she needed to move unnoticed, blend into the shadows of the city. Despite her plans to sow chaos, her own movements had to remain undetected. For now, anyway.

She rose from the chair and crossed to the small bag she’d brought with her, opening it to reveal a neatly folded, simple cloak—nothing like the regal attire she had once worn in the Asteri’s court. This was meant for blending in, not standing out. She pulled the fabric over her shoulders and tightened the clasp at her neck. Then, she grabbed a few essential tools from her pack—daggers, a gun, lockpicks, and some cash—just enough for tonight’s mission.

As she turned to leave, her gaze flicked to the reflection in the small, dingy mirror hanging above the dresser. The female staring back at her was not the same one she had once been. The cold detachment in her eyes, the calculating glint in her expression—it was all forged from the years under the Asteri’s influence. They had trained her, molded her into a weapon, and now, she would use that power to strike down those who had wronged her.

But something in the pit of her stomach tightened as she looked at her own face, and for a brief moment, she wondered what she would have been without them. Without the manipulation, the teachings, the control.

No. She couldn’t think like that. That path led to doubt, and doubt had no place in her mission.

Seraphis exhaled slowly, forcing the unwelcome thoughts away. There was no room for weakness. Not now, not ever.

She pulled the hood of her cloak up and quietly exited the motel room, blending into the late-night crowds that still lingered on the streets. The city’s pulse was alive around her—bright lights, roaring voices, the distant sound of music and laughter from the nearby bars. But all of it felt muted to her, as though it belonged to a world she no longer had any part in.

The underground market was a good distance away, but Seraphis was in no rush. The night stretched long, and the quieter the streets became, the easier it would be to move through unnoticed.

As she made her way through the alleyways and narrow streets, she began to mentally run through the next phases of her plan. After the initial chaos at the market, she would need to set up a few more “incidents” in other key areas of the city. The slums, in particular, were a breeding ground for unrest. And she would use that unrest to her advantage, stirring the pot just enough to bring everything boiling to the surface.

But all of it—every step she took—would be meaningless if she didn’t ultimately bring Bryce and her allies into the fray. Bryce needed to see the consequences of her actions. She needed to understand that killing the Asteri hadn’t ended their reach, that Seraphis still carried their legacy. And Seraphis would make sure that Bryce knew exactly who had come for her in the end.

Seraphis’ steps slowed as she approached the market district. This was where the first domino would fall. It would be subtle at first—just enough to stir the waters—but it would be enough to start the chain reaction. She smirked beneath the hood of her cloak, her fingers itching to put the plan into motion.

The hunt had begun.

The deeper she went into the market district, the fewer lights illuminated the way. The shadows grew thicker, darker, more welcoming. She preferred it that way. She had always been more comfortable in the darkness--where she could disappear, where no one could track her.

The underground market came into view soon enough, it's entrance tucked between two crumbling buildings in one of the older parts of Lunathion. It wasn't marked, but she knew the signs- the faint hum of activity, the subtle symbols carved into the stone by those who frequented this place. Only those who were meant to be here would find it.

Seraphis pulled her hood lower, her face obscured, and made her way to the door. A lone guard stood by, eyeing her warily, but he made no move to stop her. He wasn't paid to care about who came or went--only to keep the peace inside. That worked to her advantage.

She slipped past him and into the market below.

The underground market was a labrynth of dimly lit corridors, filled with stalls and vendors selling everything from the rarest magical artifacts to specific body parts of powerful beings. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and incense, and the low murmur of voices echoed off the stone walls. It was a place of deals and danger, where money and power changed hands in secret.

And tonight, Seraphis would be the one pulling the strings.

She wandered through the stalls, her eyes scanning the wares, but she wasn't here to buy. No, her interest lay in the individuals--the ones who operated in the shadows, the ones who could help spread the chaos needed. It didn't take long to spot them. They were always the same type--the smugglers, the mercenaries, the power-hungry who would do anything for the right price.

Seraphis approached a small group huddled near the back of the market. Three males. One wolf, one fae, one human. Perfect.

They were rough looking, armed with blades and distrustful eyes. She could feel their wariness as she neared, but they made no move to stop her.

"You look like the kind of men who know how to find things," she said, her voice low, carrying just enough authority to get their attention.

The wolf, a tall male with a scar running down his cheek, gave her a once-over before nodding. "Depends on what you're looking for."

"I'm not looking for anything." She pulled the black cloth from her bag, and slowly unwrapped one of the relics, revealing a small, intricate object glowing faintly with power. The men's eyes widened at the sight. "But I am offering something. This--and more--if you're willing to do a little work for me."

The men exchanged glances, greed already shining in their eyes. The scarred one stepped forward. "What kind of work?"

"Simple," Seraphis said, her voice cold and calculating. "Spread the word. Tell your buyers that something big is coming. A power shift. A chance to get in on something...greater."

She let the words hang in the air, giving them time to bite. The men leaned in closer, intrigued. "And who are you, exactly?"

"Someone who know's whats coming," she replied. "And if you're smart, you'll play your part when the time comes."

The male's eyes flicked to the relic in her hand, then back to her. "And if we do?"

"You'll be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams," she said smoothly, knowing full well that these idiots would sell their souls for even a taste of the power she offered. "But cross me, and you'll be the first to burn when this city falls."

The three seemed to mull it over for a moment, then the scarred one nodded slowly. "We'll spread the word. But we want more than just promises."

Seraphis smiled darkly and handed him the relic. "Consider this a down payment."

She turned on her heel and disappeared back into the maze of stalls, her work here done. The seed of chaos has been planted, and it wouldn't take long for it to spread.

Seraphis slipped out of the market and into the cool night air, her heart steady, her mind clear. It was only the beginning. Soon, the streets would burn, and Bryce would have no choice but to come out of hiding.

And when she did, Seraphis would be waiting.

She pulled the hood of her cloak tighter around her face and melted back into the shadows. Tonight had gone according to plan, but there was still so much work to be done. This was only the first step, the first move in a much larger game.

A game that Seraphis intended to win.

She moved with cold precision, her mind racing through the intricacies of her plan. She didn't care who showed up first--whether it was Bryce, one of her friends, or even her allies. All that mattered was drawing them out, making them feel the chaos she was about to unleash.

The rebellion tearing through the city was the perfect distraction, but she had her own plans to accelerate the destruction. She thrived in the shadows, using the panic to slip unnoticed through the darkened streets toward the heart of the city’s market district.

The bustling square, still relatively untouched by the unrest, was a chaotic web of people moving in and out of crowded shops and vendor stalls. Seraphis stood in the shadows, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

She closed her eyes and summoned her power. Time slowed to a crawl around her as she focused on the flow of energy coursing through the city. She was no master of fire or chaos in the traditional sense, but time… time was her weapon.

Seraphis sent out tendrils of her power, threading them through the crowded square. She began to bend time, subtly at first, slowing the movements of some citizens while speeding up others. A cart that had been rolling steadily down the street suddenly sped up, crashing into a vendor’s stall, spilling supplies everywhere. The vendor, moving too slowly to react, was sent tumbling into a nearby food cart, which quickly tipped over, sparking a small fire as the flames caught onto the cloth covering.

More and more, she manipulated time, sending carts crashing, people stumbling, and machinery malfunctioning. The disruption quickly spread, triggering accidents that led to more destruction—an explosion from a nearby gas lamp, a toppled building as workers moved too fast, outpacing the scaffolding’s stability.

The market district, once vibrant and alive, descended into chaos. Flames licked the edges of buildings as accidents caused by Seraphis’s manipulation spiraled out of control.

Satisfied with the mayhem, she turned her attention to the old power grid hidden in the lower alleyways. Outdated and vulnerable, just like everything else in Lunathion. She reached it swiftly, manipulating time once again to accelerate the aging process of the already fragile system.

The generator cracked, groaned, and then burst into sparks as its components wore down in seconds, unable to withstand the rapid decay. With a final pulse of her power, Seraphis watched as the entire market district was plunged into darkness. The screams that followed filled the air, rising above the crackling fires and collapsing stalls.

People ran in every direction, unable to comprehend the sudden destruction around them. Panic spread, fueled by the darkness, by the confusion Seraphis had meticulously engineered.

She stood in the shadows, watching as chaos unfolded in the streets below. The flames danced in the distance, illuminating the night in a harsh, flickering glow. She felt the familiar pulse of time bend around her, the echoes of the city rippling as if the fabric of reality itself shuddered in response to her presence.

She had done it--set the stage. The tiniest adjustment, a mere shift in the sequence of events, was all it had taken. She smiled, satisfied.

But as she stood there, a thought came to her. This wasn't just about creating chaos. It was about leaving her mark, reminding them--Bryce, and anyone who dared to be as stupid as Bryce--that there were forces at play they couldn't understand.

Seraphis turned away from the window and glanced around the room of one of the closed shops she was watching this chaos unfurl from, her eyes landing on a broken clock in the corner, it's hands twitching erratically. A smirk played at her lips. That would be her mark. Every time she struck, time would ripple around her, warping and twisting the surroundings in subtle but unmistakable ways. Clocks would break, moments would repeat, and objects would age or freeze in time.

She pulled her hood up over her head, the shadow of her cloak swallowing her figure as she made her way out of the room. The streets were in disarray, and the fire had already drawn people out of their homes. She slipped past them with ease, unnoticed as she moved through the growing crowds.

In the chaos, she allowed her powers to work their magic, creating slight distortions in the area--small enough to be overlooked by most, but clear enough for those who were paying attention. It wouldn't be long before one of Bryce's minions noticed. Someone would realize the pattern and start to piece together what was happening.

As the chaos continued to swell around her, she vanished into the night, leaving behind the broken clocks.

********

Seraphis woke early, her mind still buzzing from the previous night's chaos. The dawn light filtering through the thin curtains of her room, casting long shadows on the walls. She dressed and got ready quickly, her thoughts already on the next steps in her plan.

She headed out to a small cafe nearby, it's warmth a stark contrast to the chill of the morning air. As she sat down with a simple breakfast of coffee and bread, the cafe buzzed with the latest gossip. The patrons, their faces tired but animated, spoke in hushed, urgent tones.

"....can you believe it? The whole street's still smoldering. They're saying it was some kind of coordinated attack."

"The 33rd Legion have been working non-stop. It's a mess out there."

"So many dead too, I heard Hunt Athalar on the news, saying how whoever was behind this, will pay dearly for what they have caused."

Seraphis barely managed to stop herself from laughing at that.

The damage was clearly intensive, just as she had planned. Her actions had created the right kind of chaos to draw out Bryce or anyone from her group out. Seems like today is her mate who decided to show himself first. How fantastic.

As she sipped her coffee, her eyes wandered out the window, scanning the busy street. The city was still reeling from the night’s events, and the atmosphere was charged with a mix of fear and urgency. Her plan had succeeded, but she knew she had to remain cautious.

In the midst of the commotion, she spotted Ruhn Danaan and his auxiliary approaching. He was in conversation with his team, but his commanding presence was unmistakable. Seraphis’ heart quickened; she needed to be careful.

She subtly moved from her seat, preparing to leave. But as she slipped out the door, her eyes caught Ruhn’s gaze, just for a fleeting moment. Panic surged through her. This shouldn’t happen, she thought, trying to slip away unnoticed.

Ruhn’s eyes narrowed as he spotted her. He gestured sharply to his auxiliary, and they began to follow her. The café’s patrons were oblivious to the unfolding chase, focused on their own concerns.

Seraphis moved quickly through the streets, her pace quickening as she realized she couldn’t outrun them. Ruhn and his team closed in, their footsteps echoing behind her. She darted into an alley, hoping to lose them in the labyrinth of narrow passages.

But Ruhn was fast. He managed to catch a glimpse of her just as she turned a corner. He shouted for his team to keep up, and they surged forward. Seraphis could feel the pressure mounting; she had to act fast.

As she neared a side street, Ruhn reached out, grabbing her by the arm for a brief moment. The instant his hand touched her, Seraphis felt an electric jolt, an unfamiliar and unsettling sensation that made her pause. Her heart raced, and she felt a strange, almost instinctual pull towards him, but she quickly wrenched her arm free, her senses overloaded.

“Stop!” Ruhn called out, his voice a mixture of authority and urgency. His touch was firm, but she managed to twist away and disappear into the shadows before he could get a full grasp on her.

In her haste, she left behind a small, distinctive object—a silver pendant she always kept hidden. Ruhn noticed it lying on the ground and picked it up, his eyes narrowing as he examined it. The pendant bore intricate designs that seemed out of place in the city’s everyday life.

Seraphis vanished into the maze of streets, her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps. She glanced back only once, seeing Ruhn still searching for her, his gaze scanning the alleys. She knew he would not find her now.

As the sun climbed higher, the city continued its recovery, unaware of the brief encounter that had occurred. Seraphis took a deep breath and moved forward, her thoughts already turning to the next phase of her plan.

She had managed to escape, but the pendant left behind might pose a problem. It was a small slip, but one that could have significant consequences.

And Seraphis had no idea how to get it back.

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The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series

Chapter 4: The Ties that Bind

Summary: Rhysand’s sister, Seraphis, long thought dead, was taken by the Asteri/Valgs, her memories erased and turned into a ruthless killer loyal to their cause. After Bryce kills the Asteri, Seraphis seeks vengeance on her and everyone else involved. As she hunts them down, Rhysand and the Inner Circle discover the shocking truth: she’s alive, and now their enemy.

See masterlist

Arcane: understood by few; mysterious or secret

Seraphis remained concealed in the shadows of the alley, her breath forming small clouds in the cool night air. The pendant, now firmly grasped in her hand, was a chilling reminder of the Asteri’s influence. It had been retrieved in a tense, fleeting moment, but she remained resolute. The brief encounter with Ruhn, while unsettling, did not deter her from her mission.

The city was unnervingly silent, the usual hum of activity stifled as if the night itself were holding its breath. Seraphis could feel the weight of the pendant, a symbol of her loyalty to the Asteri and the past they had shaped for her. This pendant was not merely an object; it was a piece of the narrative the Asteri had crafted—a narrative she had embraced without question. Which is why, when she found out that it was missing, Seraphis had to risk everything to bring it back.

Her training had made her adept at navigating such situations. The brief moment when time had seemed to freeze had been surprising, but she remained unshaken. The touch of Ruhn’s hand had been unexpected, sending a sharp jolt through her, but it was merely an interruption, not a threat to her mission. She was a soldier of the Asteri, molded by their teachings, and no single encounter would sway her.

Seraphis tightened her grip on the pendant. The Asteri had always assured her that this relic was crucial—an essential link to her past, a tangible connection to her origins. She had been taught that her family had rejected her, leaving her with nothing but this pendant to remember them by. She had been trained to see them as the source of her pain and to view the Asteri as her true family. This pendant would serve as a motivator, a driving force for Seraphis to work harder and belong somewhere. Within the Asteri. Beside Rigelus.

Despite the unsettling nature of the encounter, she could not afford to waver. For a fleeting moment, a whisper of doubt flickered in her mind—had she misjudged the situation? Was there more to this than she had been led to believe? But Seraphis quickly pushed the thought aside. Such doubts had no place in her mind. She was a loyal soldier, bound by her commitment to the Asteri and the mission they had set before her.

As she stepped away from the alley, her focus remained unwavering. The world was full of shadows and secrets, and she was determined to navigate them with precision. The pendant was a symbol of her duty, a constant reminder of the Asteri’s guidance and the purpose she had been given.

Seraphis moved with deliberate confidence, her senses sharp as she navigated the dimly lit streets. The city around her was a maze of hidden dangers, and she was prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead. Her loyalty to the Asteri was absolute, and she would not let any distractions or uncertainties interfere with her mission.

The night was dense with potential threats, but Seraphis was undeterred. She had faced countless trials before, and this encounter, while strange, was just another obstacle to overcome. Her resolve was steadfast, her mission clear. The Asteri’s truth was her reality, and she would face whatever came next with the strength and discipline that defined her.

She arrived at the motel and swiftly entered her room, closing the door behind her. The silence of the room offered a stark contrast to the chaos of the night. Her mind was still processing the intense encounter with Ruhn.

She placed the pendant on the table, its surface gleaming faintly under the dim light. The pendant was more than a relic to her; it was a symbol of her past and her loyalty to the Asteri.

Taking out her leather-bound journal, Seraphis began to jot down her observations. The encounter had been disconcerting, particularly the way she had used her time manipulation to freeze the world around her. It had been a necessary precaution, but the intensity of the moment lingered. This is why she would rarely freeze time. It always took away so much of her energy and the eerie stillness of everything--everyone--made her feel...shaken.

For a brief moment, she had questioned her unshakable loyalty. The way Ruhn had looked at her, the way her hand lingered on his for just a moment longer, and the haunting stillness of time, had unsettled her. But she quickly shoved the doubt aside. She was a soldier of the Asteri, and her mission was paramount. Her body was acting irrationally and it was time her brain completely took over.

There is no longer any place for mistakes or hesitations.

But being this close to Bryce and not killing her…that was something. Of course this whole pendant catastrophe wasn’t in her plans to begin with but Seraphis did consider that there would have been some miscalculations. Hopefully, the next time they will see her, it will be when she ends them.

With her resolve reestablished, Seraphis planned her next moves. She would need to investigate further, understand the significance of the figure she encountered, and continue her mission with unwavering dedication. She gathered her essential items: a map of the city, tools for intelligence gathering, and concealed weapons.

Before leaving, Seraphis cast one final look at the pendant. It remained a symbol of her duty and the Asteri’s promises. As she stepped out into the night, her purpose was clear. She would unravel the mysteries of the city, driven by her loyalty and the belief in the Asteri’s truth.

Seraphis stepped out into the bustling city, the neon lights casting an otherworldly glow on the pavement. The streets were alive with people, their movements and chatter creating a cacophony that Seraphis expertly navigated. Her senses were heightened, every sound and movement carefully cataloged as she made her way through the crowded thoroughfares.

She moved with purpose, her gaze scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Her first stop was a dimly lit tavern on the edge of town, a place known for its rough clientele and even rougher rumors. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and the scent of cheap alcohol. Seraphis slipped into a shadowed corner, her eyes never resting for long on any one person. She listened intently to the conversations around her, her sharp ears catching snippets of gossip that could be valuable.

From the tavern, she made her way to a small bookstore, its sign faded and barely noticeable. The store was cluttered with old tomes and ancient texts, the kind that might hold hidden knowledge. Seraphis moved stealthily through the narrow aisles, her fingers brushing over the spines of books as she searched for anything that might offer insight into the city’s hidden layers. She selected a few volumes that seemed promising, slipping them into her bag with practiced ease.

Next, she visited a café known for its patrons’ tendency to speak freely. The café’s warm interior was a stark contrast to the cold night outside. She engaged in casual conversation with the staff, her charm and subtle probing eliciting useful information about recent unusual events and a secretive gathering of influential figures. The details were vague but hinted at something significant.

Her final stop was an alleyway rumored to be frequented by those with insider knowledge. Here, she encountered a streetwise informant, a wolf with a reputation for trading in secrets. Their exchange was terse but productive. He spoke of a clandestine meeting that was scheduled to take place soon, a gathering that could potentially be linked to the information she was seeking.

With her intel gathered, Seraphis retreated to a secluded rooftop, the city spread out before her. The cool breeze ruffled her hair as she reviewed her findings under the dim light of the streetlamps below. The pieces of the puzzle began to fit together, and she identified a lead on a location where the powerful figures were rumored to meet. The urgency of her mission became clear; she needed to infiltrate this meeting to gather more concrete information.

Her mind was sharp, focused, and unyielding. She meticulously organized her notes and ensured her gear was prepared for the next phase of her operation. As she finished her preparations, the weight of her responsibility settled on her shoulders, but she remained resolute. The city’s mysteries beckoned, and Seraphis was ready to confront whatever lay ahead.

She moved silently through the labyrinth of city streets, her senses finely attuned to every subtle shift in the atmosphere. The warehouse loomed ahead, its structure a dark monolith against the night sky. Her mission was clear: observe the meeting and determine the potential threat it posed.

She slipped through a side entrance, her movements as quiet as a whisper. Inside, the warehouse was a study in contrasts, a space where luxury met secrecy. The low hum of voices and occasional clink of glasses guided her to the meeting area.

Peering through the gaps in the partitions, Seraphis took in the scene: Bryce, Ruhn, and Declan among those gathered. Declan held up a photograph—the image of the pendant. Her pendant. Seeing it caused a flare of irritation within her. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. The pendant was crucial, but it was her responsibility to handle it, not theirs.

Bryce’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Declan, show us the image again. This pendant… there’s something off about it. We need to understand why it was so crucial to that female.”

Declan nodded, holding the photograph aloft. Seraphis’s gaze locked onto the image, the details of the pendant glaringly familiar. It was an artifact she had been led to believe was essential for her survival. The very idea that others were now examining it, questioning its significance, was infuriating.

Seraphis’s thoughts were a storm of frustration. These people were stumbling around in ignorance, undermining her plan. They were fools, believing they could discern the pendant’s importance without knowing the truth. Her anger was palpable, her hand clenching into a fist as she watched.

Seraphis remained hidden, her sharp eyes focused on the meeting taking place in the warehouse. The dim light flickered over the gathered figures. The tension in the air was palpable, and she could sense the gravity of their discussion.

Declan was examining the photograph of the pendant, his voice cutting through the murmur of conversation. “We need to understand what this pendant truly represents. It’s been tied to a series of unusual events, and the woman we saw earlier was desperate to retrieve it.”

Bryce nodded, her expression serious. “We’ve come across mentions of similar artifacts in old texts, but nothing that directly connects them to this pendant. We need answers, and we need them quickly.”

Ruhn crossed his arms, his gaze intent on the photograph. “If this pendant is as important as it seems, we have to find out why. There’s a possibility it’s part of something larger, a threat we haven’t fully grasped yet.”

Seraphis’s frustration mounted. The conversation was drifting into territory she didn’t want them to explore. The pendant was vital, but their ignorance about its true nature only added to her irritation. These people were stumbling in the dark, and their misguided attempts to uncover its significance only made her more determined to maintain control over the situation.

As she listened, a sense of urgency grew. Her mission was to ensure that the pendant remained under her influence, and the longer she stayed, the greater the risk of exposure. She needed to act quickly.

The conversation continued, with Bryce’s connections discussing various theories and possible implications of the pendant. Their speculations were frustratingly off-mark, and Seraphis could feel her patience wearing thin.

Declan mentioned something about a potential lead they had on another piece of information related to the pendant. “We’re supposed to follow up on a few more details,” he said, “but there’s something about this pendant that feels like it’s part of a bigger puzzle.”

The room was abuzz with nods and murmurs of agreement, but Seraphis knew she couldn’t afford to stay any longer. She had overheard enough to know that their knowledge was fragmented and their conclusions misguided. Staying longer would only risk her cover.

A loud noise from outside—the sound of heavy footsteps and a scuffle—caught her attention. Seizing the opportunity, Seraphis moved quickly. Her heart pounded as she slipped out of the warehouse, her steps muffled against the cold concrete.

She navigated her way back to the motel, her mind racing. The snippets of conversation she had heard were enough to confirm that the group was on a misguided path. The pendant’s significance was still obscured to them, and that worked in her favor.

Entering her room, she locked the door behind her and took a deep breath. The meeting had been a mix of frustration and validation. She now had a clearer understanding of the obstacles she faced and the depth of the misinformation surrounding the pendant.

Seraphis paced the small room, her thoughts swirling. The Asteri’s orders were paramount, and she would not let these unworthy adversaries stand in her way. Her next steps would be calculated and decisive. She would continue to observe from the shadows, ensuring that her mission remained on track and that the Asteri’s plans were executed flawlessly.

As she prepared for the night ahead, Seraphis’s resolve hardened. The confrontation with Bryce and her allies was inevitable, but for now, she would remain hidden, allowing their ignorance to serve her purpose. The game was far from over, and she would be ready for whatever came next.

*****

Ruhn stood near the makeshift table, arms crossed, watching as Bryce’s connections continued their discussion. Declan was going through data on his device, the image of the pendant still projected in front of them.

“That’s it,” Declan said, shaking his head in frustration. “I’ve combed through every source I could find—nothing modern matches this symbol. No database, no house, no records. It’s like this thing doesn’t exist.”

One of the fae males, a scarred figure with silver tattoos curling up his neck, leaned in closer to the image. “It doesn’t match because it’s ancient. I’ve seen symbols like this before, in archives most wouldn’t even know to look at.”

Ruhn straightened at that. “How old are we talking?”

The male’s expression darkened as he glanced at his companions. “Older than any current court. Before the houses united, before the current system was in place. The symbol belongs to an old bloodline, one that no longer exists—at least not officially.”

Bryce’s eyes flashed with intrigue. “The Old Courts?”

Ruhn’s gut clenched. Whoever this woman was, she wasn’t just some random thief. She was connected to something much bigger—something they had no idea about. And if she was using that pendant for her own means, they were already behind.

Declan chimed in, his eyes on his device. “There’s still nothing in the modern archives, no mention of any family still active that could be tied to this symbol. But if it’s as old as we think, then it might not even be registered anymore.”

Ruhn rubbed a hand over his jaw, trying to piece it together. “So we’re dealing with someone who knows about the Old Courts, who has access to something none of us understand. But why show up now? What’s the motive?”

Another one of Bryce’s people, a female faun with pale blue hair nodded. “Whoever has this, they’re not just looking for power—they’re looking to shift the balance of it. And if they’re connected to the Old Courts, they could be planning something bigger than any of us are ready for.”

Ruhn swallowed down a wave of unease. The female he’d encountered might not be an enemy they could easily understand. If she was tied to an old bloodline—an old family from a forgotten era—then this fight was about more than just the pendant. It was about history, legacy, and powers they’d long thought lost to time.

Bryce, who had been quietly studying the image, suddenly stilled. Her mind was clearly lost in somewhere Ruhn had no idea. He saw how his sisters eyes widened just a fraction as a flicker of recognition passed through her.

She whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. "Could it be...?"

"What? Could it be what?" Ruhn's voice sounded urgent as he looked at his sister who was still clearly lost in a train of thoughts.

"So- um, we are talking ancient," She said, as if suddenly coming back to reality. "How old exactly?"

Ruhn's brows furrowed. Is she okay? "Bryce-"

She lifted up a hand to silence him as one of the faes replied. Ruhn got her hidden message, to shut the hel up until later.

"Old enough that the symbol no longer holds any modern power, but it's magic lingers. This pendant is tied to a family from that era, back when power wasn't centralized. If someone has this pendant now, they're not just tied to an ancient bloodline--they're tapping into old magic."

He cast a sideways look at his sister who kept silent, her thoughts spinning, her eyes narrowed in on one place.

Unbeknownst to them, Seraphis had already slipped into the shadows, her mission in motion, and the true weight of her heritage still hidden from them all, including herself.

As the meeting wrapped up, Bryce lingered behind the group, her eyes still distant, lost in thought. As they finally said their goodbyes, stepped out of the warehouse and into the cool night air, he finally decided to press her.

"Alright, Bryce. Spill," he said, keeping his voice low but firm. "What the Hel was that back there? You went pale for a second."

Bryce glanced at Declan, who was still scrolling through data on his phone. She seemed to be wishing her words carefully, deciding how much to share.

"I don't know for sure yet," she started, her voice tense, but steady. "But...that pendant. I've seen those kinds of carvings before and Marcus just saying that this belongs to an old court just- ugh," she sighed.

Declan stopped walking, his gaze shifted between Bryce and Ruhn. "Seen it where? The archives are empty on this. How could you-"

"I didn't say I saw it here," Bryce interrupted, shooting him a sharp look. She hesitated, taking a deep breath, her usual confidence slipping just a bit. "It wasn't here. It was....somewehere else."

Ruhn frowned, his stomach twisting. He'd never seen Bryce this unsettled. "Somewhere else? You mean--"

Bryce nodded, her eyes darkening with some unspoken memory. "When I was in that other world. When I was- when I was in the caves, in- Prythian."

Declan swore under his breath. "You think this pendant has a connection to that place?"

"I don't know," Bryce admitted, her voice tight. "But it's too close to ignore. When I was in those caves with Azriel and Nesta-"

"Who the Hel are Azriel and Nesta?!" Declan interrupted, earning himself a jab from Ruhn.

Bryce rolled her eyes. "The faes- or high faes, as they call themselves, of that place. It was when I was going through the caves with them that I saw similar patterns on the walls to the ones that the pendant contains."

Ruhn's jaw clenched. He hadn't been there when Bryce had fell into another world, but he knew enough about her experiences to understand the gravity of her words. If this pendant had ties to that world, they were dealing with something far more dangerous than just an ancient relic.

"Do you think that anyone from them know about this?" he asked.

"I don't know," his sister said, her tone flat. "But we need to find out. I'm going to try and find a way to reach out to Nesta--discreetly. We can't let this slip past us."

They walked in silence for a few moments, the weight of her words settling over them. Bryce wasn’t one to panic, but the edge in her voice was unmistakable.

“I’ll keep digging,” Declan finally said. “If there’s any other mention of that symbol, I’ll find it.”

Bryce nodded, her lips pressed into a tight line. “Good. Because whatever this thing is… it’s not just some lost piece of history. It’s connected to something bigger.”

Ruhn’s mind was racing. The mysterious female they were hunting had that pendant. And now it might be tied to another world entirely. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were standing on the edge of something enormous, something that could change everything.

And whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

******

The quiet hum of the motel room couldn't drown out the noise in her head. Seraphis sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes drifting to the small window overlooking the city.

Lunathion was chaotic, loud, and bustling-but in here, it was too quiet.

Too still.

It felt wrong.

She had been fighting off the growing sense of unease for hours now, but the weight on her chest hadn't lifted.

Instead, it grew heavier, more insistent, as though something was building beneath the surface, waiting to break free.

Then it did.

Her vision blurred, and a cold gust of air slammed into her. The ground shifted beneath her feet, and suddenly, she no longer in the motel room. The scent of the city streets vanished, replaced by the sharp tang of blood, smoke, and death.

Seraphis blinked.

She was standing in the middle of a battlefield.

The air was thick with ash, and the sky above was a sickly shade of gray.

All around her, bodies lay strewn across the ground-warriors, soldiers, fae, and mortals alike, their lifeless forms broken and bloody. The city she had just been staring at from the window was in ruins, buildings collapsed into heaps of rubble, streets torn apart.

Lunathion had fallen.

Seraphis walked forward, her boots crunching against the debris and shattered remains of what had once been a thriving

The further she walked, the more the devastation unfolded before her eyes. Blood stained the ground, thick and dark, and bodies piled up, a grotesque reminder of what war could do.

And yet, this was a war she had helped orchestrate. If everything went as planned, this was the future she would create.

But as she walked among the fallen, something stirred within her. She stepped over bodies without a second thought, the carnage unfurling at her feet-until her gaze caught on a figure ahead.

A male. His body was sprawled across the ground, his familiar dark hair matted with blood, his face pale and unmoving.

Ruhn Danaan.

Seraphis stopped dead in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, she couldn't move, her chest tightening painfully as she stared at him. She had seen countless deaths, walked through the blood of her enemies without flinching. But this... something about this was different. Wrong.

She knelt down, her trembling fingers hovering just above his cheek, though she couldn't bring herself to touch him. His lifeless eyes were open, staring up at the sky, unseeing. And for reasons she couldn't explain, seeing him like this sent a shudder through her, as though something inside her was breaking apart.

She didn't understand why. She shouldn't care.

Yet her chest tightened, her heart pounding in her ears. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his face, the image of him lying there seared into her mind.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she caught movement.

She turned, her attention snapping to the source-a male groaning in pain a few feet away. He was still alive, barely, his body bloodied and battered. Her breath hitched as she took him in-tall, broad-shouldered, his features too familiar. His face was so similar to hers, it sent a chill down her spine.

The male looked a lot like her—a mirror image, his features sharp, dark, like a distorted reflection of herself, not to mention the same violet eyes. He groaned again, his body trembling as he tried to move.

Beside him was a female, her golden-brown hair wild and tangled, her eyes wide with desperation as she pressed her hands against his side, trying to stop the bleeding. Seraphis didn't know who she was, but the fierce look in her eyes was unmistakable.

The female would stop at nothing to keep the male alive.

Seraphis took it all in, her chest tightening as the weight of the scene pressed down on her. She stood frozen, torn between the cold, calculating part of her that told her this was a future of her own making and the strange, unfamiliar emotions clawing at the edges of her mind.

And then, just as suddenly, the world shifted again.

The battlefield, the bodies, Ruhn, the stranger whom she had never seen before, it all faded away in a flash of light, and she was back in the motel room. The harsh glow of the single bulb above her head felt like a slap to the face, the distant sounds of the city buzzing faintly outside the window.

But the weight on her chest remained. Seraphis stood there for a long moment, her breath shallow, her pulse racing as she tried to push the memory of the battlefield back into the recesses of her mind. She couldn't afford to dwell on it, couldn't afford to feel. Not now.

Not ever.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself, forcing the emotions down until they were buried deep where they couldn't reach her.

The hunt wasn't over yet. But that brief glimpse into the future was enough to remind her-there was more at stake than she had ever imagined.

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