Prince Ruhn - Tumblr Posts

Byrce: Live fast, die young, leave behind a pretty corpse; That’s what I always say! 

Ruhn: You should say something else.

*HOFAS spoilers* Lidia: I can't believe you assassinated the King!

Ruhn: Well, 'assassinated' implies it was politically motivated. I killed him because he was a dick, so technically I murdered him.

Lidia: That's not better!

With every SJM book I read, the more confused I get when trying to keep track of characters.

The Hammer, Harpy, Hawke, Hind and all the rest of them got me needing a chart

RUHN DANAAN

Crescent city baby

Thank you Sarah 💜🙏 thank so much

RUHN Danaan

Crestent City - RUHN Danaan

House of Earth and Blood

House of Sky and Breath

House of Flame and Shadow

Sarah J. Maas

Crescent City House of Flame and Shadow

Ruhn AND Hind/Lidia

Characters belongs to Sarah J.Maas

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.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist is open!

The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series

Chapter 3: Unseen Threads

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

Kynesis: The instinctual drive to pursue or chase something; a primal urge to follow.

The auxiliary headquarters had never felt heavier.

Ruhn sat in the large leather chair at his desk, staring at the holo-screen in front of him. Reports, data, and communications blinked in and out, but nothing held his attention for long. A strange sense of unease had been creeping in all day, something gnawing at the back of his mind.

He leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose as his thoughts wandered. Things had been too calm lately, too quiet. After everything that had happened with their circle, peace felt more like a temporary pause than a lasting reality.

The sharp buzz of his commlink interrupted his thoughts, and Ruhn glanced down at it. A message flashed on the screen from Flynn, short and urgent: “Get to the briefing room. Now.”

Ruhn’s gut twisted. Something was wrong. He stood up from his chair and quickly crossed the office, weaving through the busy corridors of the auxiliary headquarters. The sharp scent of cleaning supplies mixed with the distinct hum of tech filled the air as he moved with purpose. His steps quickened, the adrenaline already starting to kick in.

When he pushed open the doors to the briefing room, he found Flynn, Declan, and the rest of the auxiliary team already gathered. Flynn’s face was tight with worry, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by a serious expression.

“What’s going on?” Ruhn asked, feeling the tension in the room as soon as he stepped in.

Flynn glanced up, his jaw set. “We’ve got a situation. Fires—multiple, across the city. They started around the same time, and they’re spreading fast. The 33rd is stretched thin dealing with them, and we’re being called in to assist.”

Ruhn’s heart skipped a beat. Fires? That wasn’t unusual in a city this size, but… multiple? “Do we know the source?”

Declan shook his head, fingers already flying across the holo-screen to pull up maps and reports. “Not yet, but something about this doesn’t sit right. It’s too coordinated, too… sudden.”

Ruhn frowned, a familiar heaviness settling in his chest. Coordinated chaos. His mind flashed to Bryce—she’d want to get involved, no question about it. But his thoughts quickly returned to the task at hand.

“Okay, let’s move,” Ruhn ordered, pulling himself into the role of leader. “Where’s the worst hit?”

Declan brought up a map of the city, areas marked in red where the fires had erupted. “East sector, near the industrial zone. The flames are spreading toward the residential areas, and people are starting to evacuate.”

“Shit,” Ruhn muttered under his breath. “Get the gear. We’re heading there first.”

Flynn clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve got your back.”

The drive to the site felt longer than it should have. Silence filled the vehicle, a tension building in the air. Flynn sat in the front seat, his eyes hard as he stared out the window, while Declan tapped away on his tech, scanning the updates coming in.

Ruhn’s mind raced. Fires didn’t just start on their own—not like this. His gut told him this wasn’t some accident, but deliberate. Calculated. And that thought chilled him to the bone.

When they arrived, the scene that unfolded before them was pure chaos.

Thick clouds of black smoke rose from the burning buildings, ash drifting through the air like snowflakes. People were scattered in the streets, some running, others shouting, trying to help. The acrid smell of burning wood and metal filled his lungs as they stepped out of the vehicle, the heat from the flames palpable even from a distance.

“This is bad,” Flynn muttered, his usual bravado gone.

“Yeah,” Ruhn replied, eyes scanning the horizon. The flames licked higher, threatening to devour everything in their path. There was no way this was an accident.

Grabbing his commlink, Ruhn relayed orders to the team. “Declan, check in with the 33rd. We need to know where the fire started. Flynn, help with crowd control, get these people out of here. I’ll head toward the fire and see what I can do.”

The team sprang into action. Declan immediately began communicating with the Legion while Flynn and a few others started directing civilians to safety.

As Ruhn moved toward the heart of the blaze, a knot formed in his stomach. He had no idea who or what was behind this, but he could sense that it was only the beginning.

He jogged through the thick smoke, his eyes scanning the surroundings as the heat intensified. The closer he got to the source of the fire, the clearer it became that this was no random accident.

He caught sight of the firefighters battling the flames. Their powerful hoses blasted streams of water at the burning structures, but the fire seemed almost alive, resisting every attempt to extinguish it. The heat was suffocating, and the acrid stench of burning debris clawed at his throat.

Ruhn’s commlink buzzed in his ear. “Ruhn,” Declan’s voice crackled through. “I’ve got something. The fires—they’re too spread out to be natural. This was deliberate. Coordinated. They started in different locations at the same time.”

Ruhn cursed under his breath. “Any idea who’s behind it?”

“Nothing solid yet. But I’ve got people running intel.”

As Declan spoke, Ruhn’s attention shifted to something strange. His sharp eyes caught sight of the blackened ground in a nearby alleyway. The pattern of the scorch marks—it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t random.

His gut churned. There was something about the way the flames moved, the unnatural shapes they left behind. Magic? He squinted closer at the scorch marks. They almost looked like symbols, curling and twisting in ways that set his instincts on edge.

Before he could inspect further, a loud crack erupted from a nearby building. The wooden beams supporting the structure had given way, sending burning debris crashing to the ground.

“Ruhn! Get back!” Flynn’s voice shouted from somewhere behind him, but it was too late. The flames surged forward, and the ground trembled as the building collapsed in on itself.

Ruhn’s shadows reacted on instinct, swirling up from deep inside him, wrapping him in a cocoon of protection as burning embers rained down. For a moment, all he could see was fire, the world around him consumed by chaos.

And then… silence.

The collapse was over, the building reduced to smoldering ruins.

Ruhn pushed his shadows back down, scanning the scene. The alleyway was now blocked off by a pile of debris, but something told him he had seen something important—something he needed to understand.

He tapped his commlink again. “Flynn, Declan. Pull back to my location. We need to regroup.”

“On it,” Flynn responded, his voice tight.

As Ruhn stepped away from the scene, his thoughts spiraled. The fire, the symbols, the coordinated attack—it was all connected, but he couldn’t put his finger on how. Not yet.

Back at the auxiliary headquarters, hours had passed, but the weight of the fires hung over the entire team. The blazes were under control, but the damage had already been done. As Ruhn and his team gathered around the central table, Declan projected a map of the city, highlighting the areas most affected.

“So far, no one’s claimed responsibility for the attacks,” Flynn said, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “But with how perfectly this was executed, it’s no small-time player.”

Ruhn nodded, his mind replaying the strange symbols he’d seen earlier. Something nagged at him, something familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“What about Bryce?” Declan asked. “She’s going to want to know what’s going on.”

“She knows,” Ruhn said, a grim smile tugging at his lips. “But we’ve got this for now. I don’t want her involved unless it gets worse.”

Declan shot him a knowing look but said nothing. Bryce never stayed out of anything for long, especially if there was danger involved.

Flynn glanced at the map again, his brow furrowed. “You think this is just the beginning?”

Ruhn didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t need to. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation—everyone in the room could feel it.

Finally, Ruhn spoke, his voice low. “Yeah. I think something bigger is coming.”

The meeting stretched late into the night as the auxiliary poured over every detail of the fires, trying to connect the dots. Maps covered the walls, and reports streamed in from all over the city. Each new piece of information only added to the growing unease in the room.

Ruhn’s mind was preoccupied, trying to make sense of the situation. The fires were too widespread, too organized to be random. The tension in the air was thick, but no one had any solid answers yet.

Flynn stood at the head of the room, pointing to a map pinned to the wall. “These aren’t random spots. Whoever did this, they knew the city. They hit places that would draw the most attention.”

“But why fires?” Declan asked, sitting across from Ruhn, flipping through the reports. “There are quicker ways to cause chaos.”

Ruhn tapped his fingers on the table, staring at the map. “It’s not just about the chaos. It feels like… a distraction. But from what?”

As if on cue, the door to the meeting room swung open, and one of their lieutenants rushed in, breathless and grim. “New intel just came in,” he said, catching everyone’s attention. “We’ve got witnesses from one of the fire sites.”

Ruhn’s attention sharpened. “Go on.”

The lieutenant stepped further into the room, his voice tense. “They said they saw someone. Couldn't identify who it is. Cloaked, moving through the crowd before the fires started.”

Ruhn exchanged a look with Flynn and Declan. A cloaked woman, in the middle of the chaos? His instincts flared with suspicion. “A cloaked figure?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. “Did they get any details?”

The lieutenant shook his head. “Not much. Whoever it is, they kept to the shadows, and no one got a clear look at his or her face. But they were seen near more than one of the fire sites.”

Flynn rubbed his jaw. “So, either they are setting them or this individual knows something.”

“Either way,” Declan added, “they are involved.”

Ruhn felt a ripple of unease at the thought. There was no telling who this figure was or what their role in all this could be. But their presence at multiple fire sites wasn’t a coincidence.

“Find more witnesses,” Ruhn said, standing up. “We need to know more about them. Anything. I want to know where he or she went after the fires started, too.”

The lieutenant nodded and rushed out, leaving the group in a heavy silence.

Flynn let out a slow breath. “A cloaked figure and random fires? This sounds like the start of a bad story.”

Ruhn didn’t respond. His mind was turning over the details, trying to piece it all together. Who was this person? And what was he or she trying to accomplish?

For now, the answers eluded him, but something told him this wasn’t the last they’d hear of him or her.

The clock on the wall was ticking past 2 a.m., but Ruhn and his team were still going strong. The auxiliary office was quieter now, most of the lower-level members having gone home or taken over watch shifts, but the core group remained.

Ruhn stood in front of a large tactical map on the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stared at the red markers indicating each fire site. His mind churned with frustration—the fires had been extinguished hours ago, but the mystery remained unsolved.

Flynn, sitting across the table from him, pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is getting us nowhere. We’ve got a handful of burnt buildings, a few witness statements that don’t tell us much, and the appearance of some figure who slipped away before anyone could ID them.”

Declan was at his usual spot, typing away furiously at his computer, running search after search. “I’m pulling what I can from street cams and security footage, but we still don’t have a clear image of them. There’s too much interference and not enough data to go on.”

Ruhn sighed heavily, his eyes still glued to the map. There was no denying the fires had been deliberate—too well-timed, too precise. And that mysterious figure from earlier still lingered in the back of his mind. But who was this person? And why did he or she set them? The feeling that something darker was in motion gnawed at him.

Flynn leaned back in his chair. “We’ve been at this for hours, man. We’re not gonna make sense of this tonight.”

Ruhn clenched his jaw, knowing Flynn was right. The tension in his body had reached a breaking point. “Alright,” he muttered, pushing away from the map. “We’ll regroup in the morning. But keep the patrols tight. If this is the beginning of something bigger, I want eyes everywhere.”

Flynn nodded, and Declan gave a tired wave as he continued working. But Ruhn couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

The city was unnaturally quiet as Ruhn stepped out of the auxiliary building. The early hours before dawn always had an eerie stillness to them, but tonight it felt more oppressive, like the calm before a storm. The fires had been dealt with, yet something about them gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.

Ruhn zipped up his jacket against the cold breeze, his breath visible in the cool air as he began the short walk back to his apartment. The empty streets of the city felt like a stark contrast to the chaotic mess they had dealt with earlier, but there was no comfort in the silence.

He replayed the night’s events in his mind, searching for some clue he might’ve missed, something that would explain the sudden, calculated attacks. The mysterious figure Flynn mentioned was the biggest anomaly. No one had managed to get a good look at them, and they had slipped away so cleanly it was like they hadn’t been there at all.

Whoever they were, they weren't just a passerby.

As he neared his apartment, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, seeing a message from Bryce.

Bryce: Heard about the fires. You good?

Ruhn frowned, glancing up at the quiet city around him. Bryce would no doubt dig into this just as he was, but for now, he didn’t want her getting mixed up in things before he had more information.

Ruhn: Yeah, handling it. Will update you in the morning.

He slid his phone back into his pocket and headed inside, mind still churning. Something about the unidentified individual, the fires, the precision of it all—it was all too well-planned. Too clean. He needed to figure out who was behind it, and fast.

But for now, he’d try to sleep, knowing the morning would bring more questions than answers.

The next day came far too quickly. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a faint glow on the apartment walls. Ruhn groaned as he sat up, still feeling the weight of the previous night’s work heavy on his shoulders.

He rolled out of bed, quickly getting dressed and heading out. They needed to reconvene and figure out their next move.

The city was already buzzing with activity by the time Ruhn and his team stepped outside the auxiliary headquarters in search of more signs. The fires had left a mark on the city’s landscape, and Ruhn felt the weight of the responsibility to ensure everything was under control.

He and his team—Flynn, Declan, Alex and Damon—were scouring the streets, questioning pedestrians and assessing the damage. The reports of destruction were dire, and Ruhn’s focus was to gather every bit of information that could help them piece together the events of the night before.

As they moved down a street, Ruhn noticed a small café on the corner. The place seemed to be a hub of conversation, and he figured it might be a good spot to gather more intel. He directed his team to keep an eye on the street while he approached the café, hoping to pick up any additional details from the patrons.

Just as he was about to enter the café, a woman burst through the door, moving with an urgency that caught his attention. Her hurried pace and the way she tried to avoid eye contact made something in Ruhn’s gut twist with unease.

He briefly locked eyes with her, but her face was partially obscured by the hood of her shirt. The moment was too fleeting for him to make out any distinct features before she turned sharply and hurried away.

Instinctively, Ruhn’s gaze followed her. He signaled to his team to follow. There was something about her behavior that didn’t sit right with him.

The woman moved quickly, weaving through the streets with purpose. Ruhn and his team kept a discreet distance, their steps synchronized with hers. As she darted into an alleyway, Ruhn urged his team to stay close.

In the narrow confines of the alley, Ruhn saw her stumbling and dropping something on the ground. He caught sight of a small, intricate pendant before she could recover it. Without thinking, he reached out and gripped her arm, intending to stop her.

As his fingers closed around her arm, a strange sensation coursed through him—a fleeting pulse of energy that sent a shiver up his spine. It was brief, almost like an electric current, but enough to make him pause. The woman’s startled reaction confirmed that the feeling wasn’t one-sided.

“Stop!” Ruhn commanded, his voice sharp with authority and urgency. The intensity of the moment heightened his awareness, making his heart pound.

But before he could fully grasp her, she wrenched free, slipping away into the shadows. Ruhn watched as she disappeared around a corner, his grip still tingling with the sensation of her touch.

He quickly picked up the pendant she had dropped, examining its elaborate design. It seemed out of place, adding another layer of mystery to the situation.

Ruhn turned to his team, determination etched on his face. “Keep searching. We need to find out who she is and why she was running.”

As his team resumed their search, Ruhn’s thoughts raced. The strange sensation from the woman’s touch lingered in his mind, along with the pendant’s peculiar design. He knew there was a deeper connection to the chaos that needed to be uncovered. The city might be recovering, but for Ruhn, the mystery was just beginning.

He looked back down at the pendant in his hands. Intricate patterns were etched into it's surface--familiar, yet completely alien. As his thumb traced the designs, something flickered in his memory, like the whisper of an old story he couldn't quite remember.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered to himself, turning the pendant over in his hand.

Flynn and Declan caught up to him then, their faces marked with confusion.

"Did you lose her?" Flynn asked, glancing down the alley where she had disappeared.

"She slipped away," Ruhn replied, his voice edged with frustration. "But not before she dropped this." He held up the pendant, watching as his friends' expressions shifted from curiosity to concern.

"That's not local," Declan said immediately, his sharp eyes studying the pendant. "I've seen a lot of old artifacts in the archives--this doesn't match anything we've come across."

Flynn frowned, his gaze flicking between the pendant and Ruhn "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we need answers," Ruhn replied, pocketing the pendant. "Whatever that thing is...it's connected to her. And I don't think she's just some random personpassing through the city."

Bryce's voice crackled through their comms. "What's going on? You guys are off the grid."

Ruhn pressed the device to his ear, his mind still buzzing. "We might've stumbled onto something bigger than we thought."

"Bigger how?" Bryce sounded intrigued, though there was a hint of weariness in her tone--likely from dealing with the fallout of the night's attack.

"I'll explain later. We're heading back."

Three hours later, back at the apartment, the entire group gathered in the lounge--Bryce, Hunt, Ithan, Baxian and Ruhn. The atmosphere was tense, everyone still on edge from the attack the previous night.

Ruhn set the pendant down on the coffee table, the strange silver gleaming under the lights.

"This is what she dropped," Ruhn began, his voice steady but his mind still racing. "I don't know who she is, but I'm sure as hell that she's not from around here.And this pendant, it's tied to something. Something big."

Bryce leaned in, her fingers brushing over the intricate design. "This looks old. Like really old." Her brow furrowed "I've never seen anything like this, and I've come across a lot of ancient shit."

Hunt crossed his arms, his wings twitching slightly. "Do you think she's involved with the attack? Coordinating something behind the scenes?"

"I don't know," Ruhn admitted. "But whatever she's up to, she is not someone we should underestimate."

Baxian leaned against his chair. "I will let Isaiah know of this new discovery."

Bryce exchanged a glance with her mate before looking back at Ruhn. "We need to find out what this symbol means. I'll reach out to some people, see if they know anything."

Ruhn rubbed his temples as the group fell into a thoughtful silence, the pendant lying on the coffee table between them, gleaming in the low light of the apartment. Bryce paced back and forth, deep in thought, while Ithan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes occasionally flicking towards the mysterious object.

“None of this makes any sense,” Bryce finally muttered. “If this pendant is as old as it looks, why was it dropped during last night’s attack? And why now?”

“Maybe it was an accident,” Ithan suggested. “Whoever was running from you, Ruhn, wasn’t planning on being chased.”

Ruhn shook his head. “No. This wasn’t just some random person. There was something… familiar about her, but I can’t put my finger on it.” He hadn’t shared everything he felt during that brief contact—how a strange pulse of energy surged through him when he grabbed her arm. It had been… unsettling.

As the room fell into another tense silence, there was a knock on the door. Everyone froze, their gazes darting towards it.

“Expecting someone?” Ithan asked, already pushing off the wall.

Bryce frowned. “No.”

Ruhn rose, his hand instinctively going to the knife at his side as he approached the door. He glanced back at the group, Bryce nodding once to signal her readiness, her fingers twitching with power just beneath the surface.

Ruhn opened the door, revealing Flynn standing there, looking slightly out of breath. He wasn’t alone. Beside him was Declan, their expressions serious.

“Sorry to barge in,” Flynn started, walking into the apartment without being invited. “But we’ve got news, and it’s not good.”

Bryce crossed her arms. “What is it?”

Flynn exchanged a look with Declan before he spoke again. “One of our sources just reached out. They’ve been tracking unusual magical activity, and… well, we think we’ve found another connection to the attacks. Something about a powerful ward being broken last night.”

“A ward?” Ruhn asked, brow furrowing.

Flynn nodded. “Yeah, and it gets worse. They couldn’t pinpoint the exact location, but they’re sure it’s tied to that pendant.”

Ruhn’s gaze flicked back to the pendant on the table. The room seemed to grow colder, the air heavier with the weight of this new revelation.

“We need to get moving,” Flynn added. “Our source said this ward was ancient—something that hasn’t been touched in centuries.”

“Then whoever dropped this pendant wasn’t just fleeing the scene,” Declan said, his eyes scanning the group. “They were trying to hide something, maybe even protect themselves from being found.”

Bryce’s expression hardened. “Do we have any leads on where this ward was located?”

Flynn hesitated. “Not yet, but our source is working on it. We figured we’d regroup here and go from there.”

Ruhn’s mind was racing. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that the woman he had chased was tied to all of this. And now this pendant wasn’t just some lost trinket; it was a piece of something much larger.

He looked over at Bryce. “We need to move quickly. If this ward was protecting something dangerous, we can’t let it get out of control.”

“Agreed,” Bryce said, glancing at the others. “We split up. Flynn, you and Declan go follow up with your source. Ithan, stay here and keep an eye on things. Hunt and Baxian, you go to the 33rd. See if they have any updates. Ruhn and I will check out the location where you found that woman.”

Ruhn nodded, but a chill crept up his spine. The feeling that something bigger was at play, something none of them were ready for, wouldn’t leave him. And as he grabbed his jacket and prepared to head back out into the streets, his mind wandered to the pendant once more.

What had been unleashed?

The streets outside were eerily quiet as they moved toward the alley, where the pendant had been found. Bryce’s eyes swept the surroundings, alert to any sign of danger. But Ruhn’s mind was elsewhere—on the woman who had dropped the pendant. She wasn’t just another enemy; she was something far more dangerous.

The air seemed to grow heavier as they approached the alley, the energy around them shifting. It was subtle at first—a slight flicker of movement, a ripple in the world around them, as if reality itself was bending under unseen pressure.

“This is where she was,” Ruhn murmured, his voice low as he stopped in front of the darkened alley. His grip tightened on the pendant in his pocket, a deep sense of unease settling over him.

Bryce looked at him, her brow furrowed. “Whatever we’re dealing with, it’s not just some random magic. This is something bigger.”

Ruhn nodded, but before he could respond, the very air around them seemed to still. The night grew unnaturally quiet, the world itself frozen in place. Bryce stopped mid-step, her expression frozen in time—her body unmoving, her breathing halted.

Everything stopped.

Ruhn felt a strange pressure weigh down on him, an invisible force binding him in place. His muscles refused to respond, his body stuck in a frozen position. It was as if time itself had ceased to exist, the world around him locked in a moment.

And then he saw her.

Out of the shimmering stillness, That woman stepped into view. Her cloak was gone, revealing her completely. She moved with an unhurried grace, her movements smooth and fluid, as if she alone controlled the flow of time.

Ruhn’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes met hers—an unnatural shade of violet, like molten amethyst glowing in the dim light of the alley. Her face was a vision of ethereal beauty, but not the kind that drew you in with warmth. No, her beauty was dangerous, sharp, like a blade designed to cut, to wound. Her high cheekbones, flawless skin, and the intense, almost otherworldly look in her eyes sent a shiver through him. And her ears...so she was a female, not a woman.

He’d seen plenty of powerful beings, creatures with ancient magic that thrummed in their veins, but there was something about her—something that went beyond mere beauty. She was unnatural, ethereal, and that only added to the power she exuded.

His heart thundered in his chest as he found himself unable to look away. Every detail seemed to sharpen, every second stretched as his mind struggled to process what was happening. He was stuck, time frozen, and yet in this moment, all that mattered was her.

And then she moved closer.

The female walked through the frozen world as if she owned it, her steps soft but deliberate. She didn’t rush, didn’t panic. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew she was untouchable. Ruhn’s gaze followed her, his mind a whirlwind of questions. Who is she? Why does she feel… different?

With each step, her beauty grew more haunting, her presence more overwhelming. And he noticed the smallest details—her long, dark hair framing her face, the way her eyes seemed to catch every bit of light, glinting with some hidden knowledge, some secret she carried that the world didn’t know.

When she finally reached him, her fingers lightly brushed his hand. The pendant, the one she had dropped, was still in his grasp. Her touch was cold, sending a sharp jolt up his arm, and his entire body felt like it had been set ablaze by that brief connection. It was as if her touch pulled something out of him, something primal, something deep.

She leaned in slightly, her gaze briefly flicking down to the pendant before locking back onto his. In the frozen stillness, their eyes locked again, and for a moment—just a moment—Ruhn swore he saw a flicker of something in her gaze. Recognition? Curiosity? He couldn’t tell.

But then she spoke, her voice a whisper, low and melodic, yet edged with danger. “This belongs to me.”

His breath hitched. There was something intimate in that moment, something that crawled under his skin and stayed there, gnawing at him. She took the pendant from his hand slowly, her fingers lingering just a fraction too long against his.

And then, with a single blink, she was gone.

Time resumed its flow, the world around him suddenly jolting back to life. Bryce gasped beside him, blinking rapidly as if shaking off a dream.

“Ruhn?” Bryce’s voice sounded distant, her eyes wide as she scanned the street.

But Ruhn couldn’t respond. His heart pounded in his chest, and his gaze was still locked on the spot where she had disappeared, the strange sensation of her touch still lingering on his skin.

“Who the hell was that?” Bryce muttered, scanning the area in confusion, her brow furrowed.

Ruhn didn’t answer immediately. His mind was still reeling, trying to process what had just happened. His pulse was still racing from the intensity of that moment, from the look in her eyes that had been so piercing, so knowing.

“Whoever she is… she’s not done with us,” Ruhn finally said, his voice low.

Bryce shot him a confused look, clearly not understanding the full weight of what had just occurred. But Ruhn felt it—deep in his bones. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The pendant had been a symbol, a connection. But it wasn’t just about the object anymore. It was about her. Whoever she was, whatever power she wielded… it was only the beginning.

And something told Ruhn that the next time they met, it wouldn’t be so brief—or so one-sided. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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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.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:@annamariereads16 @tooexhaustedsstuff @a-frog-with-a-laptop @cassie-at-college-blog @itsinherited @anuttellaa

The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series masterlist

Warnings: angst, abuse, violence, eventual smut (that is all for now)

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.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series

Chapter 5: Fate’s Silent Whisper

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

Catalyst: a person or thing that precipates an event or change

"You know where to find me"

"You know where to find me"

"You know where to find me"

The stranger's words from Seraphis' first day in Lunathion were ringing inside her head. She had dismissed them before, but now, she saw the opportunity in their offer. If they could provide her with the means to accelerate her plans, then perhaps it was time to make use of them.

Seraphis clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The vision wasn’t a warning; it was a promise. Her promise to the Asteri, to herself. Lunathion would fall, Bryce Quinlan would pay, and everyone who had dared defy the Asteri would be swept away like dust in a storm.

But she needed to be smart about this. Calculated. Charging in blindly would only lead to failure, and failure wasn’t an option. She needed information, leverage, anything that would give her an edge.

With a cold, resolute breath, she grabbed her cloak and left the motel, the cool night air biting against her skin. The streets were nearly empty, save for a few lingering souls who paid her no mind. Her steps were quick, purposeful, as she retraced her path back to the alley where she had encountered the stranger.

This time, there was no hesitation as she stepped into the shadows. “Show yourself,” she called softly, her voice cutting through the silence.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, like before, the figure emerged from the darkness, their movements smooth and unhurried. “Seraphis,” they greeted, their tone calm and composed. “I had a feeling you’d be back.”

“I don’t have time for pleasantries,” Seraphis snapped, her gaze cold. “You said you could help me. Prove it.”

The figure tilted their head, as if amused by her bluntness. “Still so determined, I see. Very well.” They took a step closer, their voice lowering conspiratorially. “I know what you want, Seraphis. You want to see Lunathion burn. You want Bryce Quinlan and all her allies destroyed. But it won’t be easy. They have defenses, secrets—things that even you don’t know.”

Seraphis’s jaw tightened. “Then tell me. Give me something I can use.”

The figure’s eyes gleamed beneath their hood. “The wolf, Danika Fendyr. She died hiding something. A secret that could tear Lunathion apart from the inside out.”

Seraphis’s interest piqued despite herself. She knew of Danika’s death, of course, but she hadn’t cared to delve into the details. The wolf was nothing to her—just another casualty. But if there was more to it, if it could serve her purposes…

“What secret?” she demanded, her voice a low growl.

The figure stepped closer still, their gaze piercing. “Danika was investigating something. Something big. Something that could have changed everything. But she died before she could reveal it. And Bryce… Bryce knows what it is.”

Seraphis’s heart beat faster, not with fear but with the thrill of opportunity. “And you know what it is?”

The figure’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I know enough to get you started. I can show you where to look, what to dig into. With the right pressure, the right leverage, you could unravel everything Bryce is trying to protect. You could turn her own city against her.”

Seraphis’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their depths. “And why would you help me?”

The figure’s smile widened, a dangerous glint in their eye. “Let’s just say I have my own reasons for wanting to see Lunathion fall. We may have different motives, but our goals align. I have information, and you have power. Together, we can bring this city to its knees.”

Seraphis studied them, her mind racing. She didn’t trust this stranger, but they knew things. Things she needed. If she could use them, manipulate them, then perhaps she could turn this to her advantage.

“All right,” she said finally, her voice firm. “Show me.”

The figure nodded, satisfaction gleaming in their eyes. “Follow me, then. There’s much to discuss, and not much time. If you want to destroy Lunathion, Seraphis, you’ll need to be ready for what comes next.”

She followed them, her heart steady, her resolve unshaken. She didn’t care about the consequences, about the cost. She had one goal, and nothing would stand in her way. Lunathion would fall, and she would be the one to bring it down.

Seraphis followed the cloaked figure through the labyrinth of darkened alleys, her steps silent as death itself. The air crackled with tension, each step taking them deeper into the shadowy depths of Lunathion. She was done playing games. Whoever this person was, they were about to find out just how lethal she could be.

The figure finally stopped at the entrance of a decrepit building, a place forgotten by the city above. They turned, slowly, and pushed back their hood, revealing a striking woman with raven-black hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through her. There was a knowing, almost mocking smile on her lips.

Seraphis’s grip tightened on her blade, her instincts screaming at her to strike first. But she held back, if only barely. “Enough of this nonsense. Who are you?”

The woman’s smile widened, her voice low and smooth. “Names are such trivial things, don’t you think? But if you must call me something, let it be Miraya”

Seraphis narrowed her eyes. Miraya. It meant nothing to her, but the way this woman moved, the confidence in her stance—it set Seraphis on edge. She didn’t like not knowing who or what she was dealing with.

“You’re wasting my time,” Seraphis growled, her patience fraying. “I’m not here for games.”

“Neither am I.” Miraya’s voice was soft, but there was steel beneath it. She reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a small, shimmering crystal. It caught the faint light, casting eerie patterns across the walls. “I’m here because I can give you what you want.”

Seraphis took a step closer, her gaze locked on the crystal. There was something… off about it. A sense of immense power coiled within, dark and potent. “And what, exactly, is that?”

“An edge,” Miraya said, her eyes gleaming. “Something that will make your mission not just possible, but inevitable.”

Seraphis’s heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her expression neutral. “And what’s in it for you?”

Miraya tilted her head, studying her with an intensity that made Seraphis’s skin prickle. “Let’s just say I have my own reasons for wanting to see Lunathion in flames. Bryce Quinlan and her little band of heroes… they’ve upset the balance. It’s time for things to be set right.”

Seraphis clenched her jaw. It was tempting, so very tempting, but she didn’t trust easily. And she certainly didn’t trust strangers who appeared out of nowhere with promises of power. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

Miraya’s smile was pure ice. “You don’t have to believe me. But I know you, Seraphis. I know what you’ve been through, what you’ve lost. You think you can do this on your own, but you can’t. They’re too strong, too entrenched in this world. You need something more.”

She took another step forward, holding the crystal out. “This is a key. There’s a place beneath Lunathion, a vault hidden so deep even the Fae don’t know it exists. It holds something the Asteri left behind—a weapon capable of breaking even the strongest defenses. Find it, and you’ll have the power to bring this city to its knees.”

Seraphis stared at the crystal, her mind racing. A weapon left by the Asteri? It sounded too good to be true, and yet… There was a glimmer of truth in Miraya’s words. If such a thing existed, it could tip the scales in her favor.

She reached out, her fingers brushing against the crystal. A surge of energy jolted through her, dark and potent, whispering of untapped potential.

“Why would you give this to me?” Seraphis asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Miraya’s smile turned cold, almost predatory. “Because I want to see you succeed. I want to see them fall. And because I know you’re the only one who can do it.”

Seraphis hesitated, but only for a moment. Then she closed her hand around the crystal, its cold surface sending another shiver through her.

“You’ll find the entrance in the ruins beneath the old temple district,” Miraya said, stepping back. “Once you’re inside, you’ll know what to do.”

Seraphis didn’t respond. She turned on her heel, the crystal clutched tightly in her hand. She had a mission, and this—this could be the weapon she needed to see it through.

As she walked away, Miraya’s voice echoed softly behind her. “Remember, Seraphis… trust no one. Not even yourself.”

Seraphis didn’t look back. She had no intention of trusting anyone. All that mattered was the mission, the revenge that burned like fire in her veins.

And she would see it through to the bitter end.

Seraphis moved silently through the darkened alley, the sounds of the city muted around her. Every step was calculated, every glance over her shoulder deliberate. After her encounter with the cloaked woman, she’d doubled her precautions, her senses on high alert for any sign of pursuit.

But she had felt it—eyes on her. More than once.

She tightened her grip on the object she’d been given, its weight a solid reminder of the task she was here to complete. Failure wasn’t an option, not when the Asteri were depending on her. Not when revenge burned so fiercely in her veins.

She needed to get to the underground passage. It would take her to the place the woman had spoken of, to whatever weapon lay hidden beneath the city. She was almost there, just a few more turns through the labyrinth of alleys, and she—

Danika Fendyr.

The thought came unbidden, unwelcome. The woman had said Danika had been searching for the same information, that Bryce knew about it. But why? Why would Danika—a supposed hero, a loyal friend—have been looking for something like this? A weapon capable of untold destruction? Seraphis’s brow furrowed as she rounded another corner, her thoughts tangled.

Was Danika not as good as she’d appeared to be? Or had she been deceiving everyone, playing the role of the perfect friend while secretly hunting for power? The notion almost made her laugh. What did that little wolf think she could have done with a weapon like this?

And why hadn’t the Asteri told her about Danika’s involvement? She was their weapon, their prized creation. She was meant to know everything, to be one step ahead of everyone else. But this… this was a secret that had been kept from her, a piece of the puzzle she hadn’t even known was missing.

She gritted her teeth, her pace quickening. It burned, this not knowing. Danika’s shadow loomed over this mission, and it gnawed at her that a long-dead wolf—someone so inconsequential—had been privy to something that even she had been denied.

Had Rigelus kept this from her on purpose? But why? She had proven herself time and time again. Hadn’t she? Or had the Asteri doubted her all along?

She shook her head, trying to dispel the unsettling thoughts. It didn’t matter now. Danika was dead. Whatever she had known was irrelevant. Seraphis was here now, and she would succeed where that wolf had failed.

Another turn, deeper into the labyrinth of alleys. She could feel the undercurrent of magic beneath the city, the pulse of something powerful, something waiting. She was close now.

A flicker of movement caught her eye. She froze, every muscle coiled. But it was just a cat, slinking through the shadows. She exhaled slowly, forcing her heart to steady. This paranoia, this unease—it was unlike her. She was trained to be better than this, to remain calm no matter the situation.

A low murmur in her earpiece. Seraphis tensed, her hand flying to the device embedded in her cloak. She hadn’t activated it. How—

“Ithan, she’s moving towards the old market,” a voice crackled through, a woman’s voice. Bryce.

Seraphis’s eyes narrowed. They were tracking her. But how? She’d taken every precaution. Then she caught it—a faint shimmer on the hem of her cloak, almost imperceptible. Some kind of tracking spell. Clever.

Without hesitation, she ripped off the cloak and flung it aside, her lips curling into a sneer. Let them track that. She slipped into the deeper shadows, moving faster now. If they were here, it meant they knew who she was, or at least suspected. The cloak could buy her a few seconds, but she needed to—

A sharp sting in her side. She stumbled, her hand going to the small, feathered dart lodged in her ribs. Pain flared, followed by a wave of dizziness. Damn it. Her vision blurred as she yanked the dart free, but it was too late. Whatever they’d used was already coursing through her veins, muddying her thoughts, slowing her movements.

She had seconds, maybe less. A growl rumbled behind her, low and menacing. She turned just as a massive wolf lunged out of the darkness, knocking her to the ground. Her head slammed against the concrete, stars exploding in her vision.

“Got you,” a rough voice snarled above her. The wolf shifted, fur giving way to skin, claws retracting into hands as Ithan loomed over her, his eyes glowing golden in the dim light.

Seraphis thrashed, trying to summon her power, to freeze time and reverse the last few moments. But the sedative—whatever it was—scrambled her abilities. She could feel time slipping, slipping through her fingers like sand.

“Stay down,” Ithan growled, his hands pinning her wrists to the ground. His strength was immense, crushing. “You’re not going anywhere.”

She hissed, struggling beneath him, her vision fading in and out. “Get off me,” she spat, fury sparking even through the haze. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Maybe not,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “but we’re about to find out.”

Footsteps echoed in the alley, and then Bryce was there, her face hard as she looked down at Seraphis. “Nice catch, Ithan,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “So, you’re the one causing all this trouble.”

Seraphis tried to speak, but her tongue felt thick, her body heavy. She could barely keep her eyes open as the sedative pulled her deeper under.

“We’ll take her to the facility,” Bryce said, her voice distant now, like she was speaking from underwater. “Get her somewhere secure before she wakes up.”

Ithan nodded, his grip unrelenting as he hauled Seraphis to her feet. She swayed, her legs buckling, but he held her steady, half-carrying, half-dragging her towards the end of the alley.

“Big mistake,” she mumbled, barely coherent. “All of you.”

Ithan glanced down at her, his jaw tight. “We’ll see.”

As darkness claimed her, Seraphis’s last thought was of the Asteri. Of the promise she’d made. She wouldn’t fail them. Not now. Not ever.

And Lunathion would burn before she was through.

Seraphis blinked awake, the light overhead harsh and unrelenting. Her head pounded with every throb of her heart, and her wrists and ankles felt like they were on fire from the tight restraints. The room was stark and uninviting, concrete walls and a single blinding light the only features. As her vision cleared, she saw Bryce, Hunt, and Ithan standing before her, their expressions a mix of expectation and authority.

“Well, isn’t this a charming little setup,” Seraphis muttered, her voice hoarse but laced with sarcasm. “Did you redecorate just for me?”

Bryce’s gaze was steely as she stepped forward. “We’re glad you’re awake. We need to have a little chat about your plans and your connections.”

Seraphis’s lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, do you? How flattering. But I’m not really in the mood for a friendly conversation.”

Hunt, standing slightly behind Bryce, watched her with a detached interest. His presence was imposing, but he remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Ithan, closer to Seraphis, frowned slightly. “We’ve been patient. It would be in your best interest to cooperate.”

Seraphis looked Ithan up and down, her expression one of condescension. “Patient? How sweet. You know, for someone with your… formidable stature, you don’t really exude a lot of menace.”

Bryce stepped in, clearly trying to maintain control. “We don’t have time for games. You’re here because we want to understand your intentions. The sooner you talk, the sooner this can all be over.”

Seraphis chuckled softly, the sound cold and devoid of warmth. “You’re adorable, really. Do you think a bit of intimidation is going to make me spill my secrets?”

Hunt finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying an edge. “This isn’t a game. You’re going to find out just how serious we are if you don’t start talking.”

Seraphis’s eyes glittered with defiance. “And what exactly are you planning to do? You think you can break me with a bit of pressure? I’ve faced far worse than this.”

Bryce’s jaw tightened, her patience wearing thin. “You’re making this difficult for yourself. We’re asking you to help us understand what you’re after. It’s a simple request.”

Seraphis raised an eyebrow. “Simple? If it were simple, you wouldn’t need to resort to this. I’m sure you have better things to do than question me.”

Ithan’s frustration was evident. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, you’re going to give us something.”

Seraphis leaned back, her posture relaxed despite the restraints. “You know, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone who’s easily intimidated. I’m not your average prisoner.”

Hunt’s gaze remained steady. “Then prove it. Give us something to work with.”

Bryce’s voice was sharp, her tone leaving no room for misinterpretation. “We’re running out of time. Either you start cooperating, or things are going to get a lot more uncomfortable for you.”

Seraphis met Bryce’s gaze with an icy stare. “And if I don’t?”

Bryce didn’t flinch. “We’ll make sure you regret it.”

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken tension. Seraphis remained impassive, her defiance unwavering despite the mounting pressure. The team exchanged looks of frustration but didn’t relent, waiting for her to crack.

As the minutes ticked by, Seraphis remained resolute, her mind already working on ways to use the situation to her advantage. Despite her predicament, she was far from beaten, and she was determined to make sure they knew it.

The silence was deafening. No one had left the room after Bryce’s declaration, the tension thick in the air. Seraphis sat in the center, her eyes cold and unyielding as she took in her surroundings. The room was fortified with magical wards, visible only as faint glows against the walls, meant to suppress any attempts at escape. The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional creak of the old wooden floor beneath them.

Bryce’s gaze was steady, her expression inscrutable. Ithan stood nearby, his arms crossed, a silent sentinel. Hunt, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with a mix of impatience and curiosity. Seraphis’s mind, though clouded by the effects of the drug, was still sharp. She assessed her situation with the analytical precision of a seasoned operative.

The quiet stretched on until Bryce finally broke it, her voice laced with frustration and a touch of impatience. “You know, this isn’t a game. We have ways of getting the information we need. I suggest you cooperate before we resort to more… persuasive methods.”

Seraphis’s lips curled into a sardonic smile. “And here I thought you were just going to ask nicely. I’m afraid I don’t respond well to threats. You’ll have to do better than that.”

Hunt pushed off from the wall, stepping forward with a menacing aura. “Bryce is right. You might think you’re untouchable, but we have ways to make you talk. This isn’t a place where you can hide from us.”

Bryce’s eyes narrowed, but she remained calm. “You might be confident now, but this place is heavily protected. You can’t just walk out. You’ll find that our methods are quite effective.”

Ithan shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable with the prolonged standoff. He stepped forward, his voice carrying an edge of authority. “We don’t have all day. Tell us what we need to know, or things are going to get very uncomfortable for you.”

Seraphis’s gaze flickered between Bryce, Hunt, and Ithan, her resolve unwavering. “And if I refuse?”

Bryce leaned in slightly, her tone low but menacing. “Then we’ll make sure you regret it. We have the means to make you talk, whether you like it or not. You’re here, and we control the conditions. You might be able to resist for a while, but eventually, you’ll crack.”

Hunt stepped closer, his expression hardening. “We don’t want to hurt you, but we will if we have to. We’re here to get answers, and we’re not leaving until we do.”

The room fell silent again as Seraphis considered her options. The drug’s effects were dulling her senses, making it harder to think clearly, but her spirit remained unbroken.

As the minutes dragged on, Seraphis’s mind raced despite the drug-induced haze. She knew the facility’s magical barriers were formidable, but she had faced worse challenges before. The real threat was not the wards themselves but how they might use her vulnerabilities against her.

Bryce, Hunt, and Ethan exchanged a look, clearly contemplating their next move. The room’s oppressive silence seemed to grow heavier, but Seraphis refused to show any sign of weakness. She met their gazes with a steely determination, her resolve as sharp as ever.

Bryce finally spoke, her voice cutting through the silence. “We’ll leave you to think it over. When you’re ready to talk, we’ll be here. Until then, enjoy your stay.”

With that, Bryce, Hunt, and Ithan turned and walked out, the door closing behind them with a finality that echoed through the room. Seraphis was left alone, the silence now tinged with the faint hum of the magical wards.

As she sat in the dimly lit room, her mind continued to work despite the effects of the drug. She would find a way out, she vowed to herself. No matter how intricate the wards or how intense the interrogation, she would not let them break her spirit. She was determined to escape and continue her quest for revenge, no matter what it took.

******

Ruhn leaned against the wall of the darkened room, his gaze fixed on the blinking lights of the city outside. Flynn and Declan sat at the table, their expressions tense and thoughtful. The weight of recent events hung heavily between them, unspoken questions swirling in the air.

“She’s dangerous,” Flynn muttered, breaking the silence. “More than we realized.”

Ruhn’s jaw tightened. He knew it. They all did. But it was more than just danger that bothered him. He couldn’t shake the strange, inexplicable pull he felt when he thought about Seraphis. Something about her nagged at him, as if he should know who she was—what she was.

“I can’t get her out of my head,” Declan said quietly, his gaze distant. “It’s like she’s… I don’t know, like there’s something more we’re not seeing.”

“There is,” Ruhn replied, his voice tense. “And I don’t think she’s going to give it up easily.”

Flynn nodded slowly. “Bryce and Hunt are taking a big risk keeping her here.”

“I know,” Ruhn said, his voice clipped. He turned away, trying to shake the uneasy feeling settling in his gut. Something about this whole situation felt wrong, off-balance, like they were missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

His phone buzzed, and he snatched it up, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Bryce’s name flash across the screen. He answered immediately.

“Bryce? What’s going on?”

“Ruhn, you need to get here now,” Bryce’s voice was strained, tight with urgency. “Something’s happening.”

His stomach dropped. “What do you mean? Is she—”

“Just get here, Ruhn.I don’t think we have much time.”

The line went dead, and Ruhn stared at the phone for a heartbeat, his mind racing. Then he turned to Flynn and Declan, his expression grim.

“Something’s up. Bryce needs us. Now.”

They didn’t waste time asking questions. Flynn and Declan were on their feet in an instant, following Ruhn as he strode out of the room, his thoughts a chaotic tangle of fear and determination.

What the hell are we dealing with?

They reached the building in record time, the air around them charged with tension. Bryce met them at the entrance, her expression a mix of relief and anxiety.

“She’s…changed,” Bryce said, her voice low. “I don’t know how to explain it, but something’s different.”

Ruhn frowned. “Different how?”

“I don’t know,” Bryce said, frustration evident in her tone. “But we need to be careful. She’s not just some prisoner. She’s…something else.”

They moved quickly, following Bryce down the hallway. The walls seemed to close in around them as if the building itself sensed the storm brewing within. Ruhn’s heart was pounding, a cold sweat breaking out on his skin. The sense of impending danger was almost suffocating.

When they reached the door of the interrogation room, Ruhn hesitated for a split second, his hand on the doorknob. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, then pushed it open.

And there she was.

The harsh lights above cast a stark glow over her, illuminating the delicate, angular lines of her face. Even under the circumstances, with chains binding her and an air of danger coiling around her like a living thing, this female was…breathtaking.

Ruhn’s heart stuttered, his gaze drinking her in despite himself. She was more striking than he remembered—no, not just striking. She was beautiful in a way that felt almost unreal, like a creature crafted from shadows and starlight. The soft illumination seemed to highlight every sharp, perfect angle of her face, the cold gleam in her eyes, the curve of her lips that spoke of secrets and danger.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that sent a jolt through him. For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, caught in the pull of that gaze. There was something there—something more than just the hostility, more than the cold indifference she’d shown before. It was as if she saw right through him, as if she could peel back the layers of his mind and lay them bare.

His breath hitched, and he had to force himself to look away, to break the spell she seemed to weave so effortlessly. But the image of her stayed with him, burned into his mind. He had faced beautiful women before, had faced beings of power and danger, but there was something about her that felt different, something that stirred a primal, almost visceral reaction deep within him.

It wasn’t attraction—alright, maybe it was but he would never admit it. But it was also something darker, more complicated. A fascination he couldn’t shake, a curiosity that bordered on obsession. Who was she, really? What had shaped her into this cold, lethal creature who now sat before them, her beauty a mask that barely concealed the deadly edge beneath?

His heart pounded in his ears as he took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. She watched him with that same unflinching stare, her lips curving into a slow, mocking smile that made something twist painfully in his chest.

“Back for more?” she drawled, her voice dripping with disdain. “Or are you finally ready to admit you’re out of your depth?”

The spell was broken, the cold, biting sarcasm snapping him out of whatever strange hold she had over him. He forced himself to meet her gaze head-on, to remember why they were here, what was at stake.

“We’re not playing games. Tell us what you’re after.”

Her smile widened, a flash of teeth that was more feral than amused. “You really think you can make me talk?”

Bryce stepped forward, her expression hard. “You’re not getting out of here. This place is sealed with wards and magic. It’s in the middle of nowhere. There’s no escape.”

Her eyes gleamed, something dangerously close to amusement dancing in their depths. “You think a few wards and some isolation are going to hold me?”

The silence that followed was thick, charged with tension. Ruhn’s heart was still racing, his mind a tangled mess of emotions and questions he couldn’t begin to unravel. He knew he should hate her, should see her as the threat she was—but instead, all he could think about was the way her eyes had looked, the way her voice had sounded, the way she seemed to twist everything inside him into knots.

He forced himself to speak, to keep his voice steady despite the turmoil churning within. “We’ll see about that.”

Seraphis’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew sharper, more knowing. “Oh, I’m sure we will.”

The words hung between them, a challenge and a promise all at once. And Ruhn knew, in that moment, that whatever happened next, nothing would ever be the same.

The silence in the room thickened, stretching like a taut wire between the captors and their prisoner. Bryce exhaled sharply, her frustration palpable. “This is getting us nowhere,” she muttered, glancing at Hunt. He nodded, his wings twitching slightly in agitation.

Ruhn’s gaze lingered on the woman, still seated and chained, her expression cool and inscrutable. There was something about her—something that dug beneath his skin and refused to let go. He forced himself to turn away, following Bryce and Hunt as they moved toward the door.

“We’ll be back,” Bryce said over her shoulder to the others, her voice tight. “Make sure she doesn’t get too comfortable.”

Bryce’s grip tightened on Ruhn’s arm, a silent signal for him and Hunt to follow as she led them further down the corridor. Her footsteps echoed off the cold stone walls, each step measured, purposeful. She didn’t speak until they were out of earshot of the guards, out of sight of any prying eyes.

Finally, she stopped in front of a heavy door marked with sigils that glowed faintly in the dim light. Bryce glanced over her shoulder, her gaze flicking between Ruhn and Hunt. “Inside. Both of you.”

Ruhn and Hunt exchanged a look but followed her into the room without argument. It was smaller than the interrogation room, furnished only with a table and a few chairs. An array of magical devices cluttered the tabletop, shimmering faintly in the glow of the overhead lights. The door clicked shut behind them, and Bryce exhaled, running a hand through her hair.

“What’s this about, Bryce?” Hunt asked, his voice steady but wary.

Bryce took a deep breath, her expression serious as she turned to face them. “I need to try and reach Nesta. Now.”

Ruhn’s brows furrowed. “Here? But we’re supposed to—”

“I know what we’re supposed to do, Ruhn,” Bryce interrupted, her voice tight. “But if there’s even a chance that Nesta knows something—anything—that can help us understand what’s going on with our prisoner, then we can’t wait. We need answers, and we need them fast.”

Hunt crossed his arms, his wings rustling as he shifted. “And how exactly are you planning to reach her?”

Bryce moved to the table, picking up a small, intricately carved crystal and holding it up to the light. “This,” she said, her tone laced with determination. “I asked Hypaxia two days ago to create something that will be able to get me to open a portal. Apparently this is the best she could create in such a short notice. Astonishing really, how a medwitch can create something like this. But she was my only hope and this is the only way we have so I really don’t wanna fail this.”

Ruhn eyed the crystal warily. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“No,” Bryce admitted, a faint smile curving her lips. “But when has that ever stopped us?”

Hunt’s jaw tightened. “We should have someone stand guard outside. In case anything goes wrong.”

Bryce nodded. “Good idea. I don’t know how long this will take, but if I can connect with her—if she’s seen anything related to those symbols or this female, then we’ll have a better chance of figuring out what we’re dealing with.”

Ruhn stepped closer, his expression softening. “Bryce, are you sure you’re ready for this? We don’t know what kind of effects this could have—on you, or on Nesta.”

“I have to try, Ruhn,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze. “We can’t just sit here and wait. Not when there’s so much at stake.”

Hunt nodded, his face set in a determined mask. “I’ll keep watch outside. If anyone tries to come in, I’ll handle it.”

Bryce’s eyes flickered with gratitude. “Thanks, Hunt.”

He gave her a quick, reassuring smile and a kiss before slipping out the door, leaving Ruhn and Bryce alone in the small room. Silence stretched between them, heavy and tense. Bryce set the crystal down on the table and began arranging a few other objects around it—candles, symbols drawn on parchment, small vials filled with what looked like sand or dust.

Ruhn watched her, his heart pounding in his chest. “Are you sure about this?”

Bryce paused, her hands hovering over the setup. “No,” she said softly. “But we need to know, Ruhn.”

Ruhn exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. What do you need me to do?”

Bryce glanced up at him, a small, determined smile on her lips. “Just be here. In case things get… weird.”

He nodded, stepping closer to the table, his gaze fixed on the crystal. “I can do that.”

Taking a deep breath, Bryce lit the candles one by one, the flames flickering to life in the dim room. She closed her eyes, her hands hovering over the crystal as she began to murmur softly, her voice a low, melodic chant. The air around them seemed to thicken, a strange, tingling energy filling the space.

Ruhn held his breath, his heart pounding as he watched his sister work, the crystal beginning to glow faintly in response to her words. The light grew brighter, pulsing in time with her voice, until it filled the room with a warm, steady glow.

And then, with a sudden, almost imperceptible shift, the light changed—softening, dimming, until it seemed to fold in on itself, forming a small, shimmering portal in the air above the table.

Bryce’s eyes snapped open, her breath catching as she stared at the portal. “Nesta,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

For a moment, nothing happened. The portal shimmered and flickered, its edges wavering as if it might vanish at any second. And then, slowly, a figure began to take shape within it—a woman, her hair light and braided, her eyes fierce and unyielding.

Ruhn’s breath caught in his throat as Nesta Archeron’s face came into view, her expression tense and guarded. “Bryce?” she said, her voice echoing faintly through the portal.

Bryce’s grip on the table tightened, her knuckles white. “Nesta. I need your help.”

Nesta’s form solidified through the portal, her gaze cool and piercing as she took in the sight of Bryce and Ruhn. She crossed her arms, the faintest hint of irritation in her expression.

“This better be good,” she said sharply, her eyes flicking between the two of them. “Why did you call me?”

Bryce exhaled, gripping the pendant in her hand. “It’s about these symbols,” she said, holding up the engraved piece of jewelry for Nesta to see. “They’re the same ones we saw in those caves in your world, remember?”

Nesta’s gaze narrowed, her posture shifting slightly as she took a step closer. “I remember,” she said, her voice low. “The carvings on the walls. What does this have to do with you?”

“There’s a female we found,” Bryce explained. “She was wearing this. And she’s… dangerous, Nesta. I don’t know who or what she is, but I have a bad feeling about her. We need to figure out what these symbols mean and if there’s something in your world that could help us understand what’s going on.”

Nesta frowned, studying the pendant intently. “You think she’s connected to those carvings?”

Bryce nodded. “I don’t know how, but it’s too much of a coincidence. We can’t ignore it.”

Nesta’s expression remained guarded, but there was a flicker of something—concern, curiosity, maybe even a hint of fear. “And you think she’s a threat? To you, to Midgard?”

“Yes,” Bryce said softly. “I can feel it, Nesta. There’s something about her, something… wrong. Or maybe I am delusional but whatever the case is, she is not to be trusted and will cause unnecessary problems. Something we don’t need.”

Nesta’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And you think I can help?”

Bryce glanced at Ruhn, then back at Nesta. “You’ve dealt with a lot, Nesta. You’ve seen things most people can’t even imagine. If anyone can help us understand what’s going on, it’s you.”

Nesta’s eyes hardened, and for a moment, she seemed to be weighing something, some invisible scale tipping back and forth in her mind. Then she nodded slowly. “I’ll look into it,” she said, her voice steady. “But don’t get your hopes up. If these symbols are what I think they are… we might not like what we find.”

Bryce’s stomach tightened, but she nodded. “I just need to know what we’re up against. Anything you can find, anything at all, would be a start. Maybe even ask that uptight king of yours.”

“High lord. And I’ll do what I can,” Nesta said, a grim look in her eyes. She hesitated, glancing at Ruhn. “And you? Are you ready for whatever this might bring?”

Ruhn’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “We’ll be ready.”

Nesta’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she turned back to Bryce. “Just… be careful. If this female is as dangerous as you say, you’ll need to be prepared.”

Bryce nodded, a tight smile on her lips. “We will be.”

Nesta gave a curt nod, then turned back to the portal. She paused, looking over her shoulder one last time. “And Bryce… whatever you do, don’t go poking around too much. Some things are better left buried.”

With that, she stepped through the portal, disappearing into the swirling light.

Ruhn watched the portal close, the shimmering light fading until it was just him and Bryce left in the dim room. The female who’d stepped through was a stranger to him, her face fierce and determined, but it was clear from Bryce’s reaction that she wasn’t just anyone.

He turned to his sister, still trying to process what had just happened. “So… that was Nesta?”

Bryce nodded, her expression tight. “Yeah. One of the only ones I trust to help us figure this out. I mean, these carvings were in their caves, right? Her high lord has to know something.”

“She seems… intense,” he said, trying to piece together his impression of her. It was hard to gauge someone just from a brief encounter, but there had been something in her eyes—like she wasn’t easily rattled, no matter what she was facing.

“She is,” Bryce replied, her voice quiet. “But she’s also the best person to help us. If anyone can make sense of that pendant or those carvings, it’s her.”

Ruhn nodded slowly, still a little uncertain. He didn’t know Nesta, didn’t understand her, but if Bryce believed she could help, he’d go along with it. For now, at least. There were too many unknowns, too many dangers lurking in the shadows. And whoever that female was, the one they had locked up in the other room, she was at the center of it all.

“Do you think she’ll be able to get the answers we need?” he asked, glancing at Bryce.

“I hope so,” Bryce murmured, her gaze fixed on the door. “Because if not, I don’t know who else can.”

Ruhn swallowed, a chill settling over him. He didn’t like the uncertainty, the feeling of being out of his depth. But he’d follow Bryce’s lead, trust her judgment. Because right now, that was all they had.

******

1,2,3…….1,2,3….4,5,6,7,…8,9….

Seraphis sighed and leaned her head back against the cold wall. It has been two hours since the minions left. Captors, Seraphis chuckled. “Captors my ass.”

If they think that they are making any process with her, they are up for a big fucking surprise.

Her eyes roamed the small, barren room. She’d memorized every detail of it, every inch of the walls, the faint hum of magic lacing the air, the way the wards vibrated with power—everything they thought would keep her trapped. To anyone else, it might have seemed hopeless, but to her, it was just another puzzle to solve.

1, 2, 3… She counted again, the rhythm of it calming her thoughts as she traced the weak points in the wards. They weren’t glaring gaps, but subtle imperfections, places where the magic didn’t weave together perfectly. 4, 5, 6, 7… Almost there. She felt a grin tug at her lips.

A wisp of her magic slipped through the cracks, a tendril so fine it was almost undetectable. She fed it into the wards, feeling for their structure, testing the strength of their confinement. It wasn’t enough to break free—not yet—but it was enough to understand how they were constructed. It would only be a matter of time before she found the weak link.

8, 9… Seraphis’s eyes glinted as she completed the circuit. Her magic recoiled back to her, and she let out a slow breath. She could dismantle it—maybe not tonight, but soon.

She shifted, glancing at the door, imagining those self-satisfied faces of her so-called captors. Bryce Quinlan, with her fiery determination and endless questions. The way she’d tried to appear confident, in control. It was almost amusing.

“Sweetheart,” Seraphis murmured to the empty room, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

And Ruhn—his presence had surprised her. He was different from the others. He’d looked at her like he was trying to piece together some impossible puzzle. She almost felt sorry for him, almost. But whatever flicker of something she’d sensed between them, whatever unknown feelings she felt for him when she saw his dead body in the future, it didn’t matter. He was just another obstacle in her path.

The Asteri had taught her well. There was no room for sentimentality, no space for hesitation. Everything and everyone was a tool to be used, and once they’d served their purpose… well, she’d leave them behind like she always did.

She closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to her purpose, her mission. The Asteri, their commands, their goals. She was their weapon, honed and sharpened for centuries, and now, even in this pathetic excuse of a prison, she would not falter. The Asteri had made her strong. Made her untouchable.

This realm—Midgard, the Fae, the little humans playing at war and power—it was all so insignificant. She was here for a reason, and she would not be distracted by these petty games. They thought they were holding her, thought they were keeping her from what she needed to do. Fools.

“Tick tock,” she whispered, a vicious smile playing on her lips. “Time’s running out, darlings.”

She imagined the chaos she would unleash once she broke free, the terror that would spread through their ranks. She could almost taste their fear, the delicious scent of it filling her senses.

“Let’s see how long your precious wards hold.”

The door creaked open again. Seraphis didn’t bother to lift her head from where she leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, arms crossed over her chest. The scent of shadows and starlight clung to the air like smoke, a dead giveaway of who had entered.

Ruhn Danaan.

He shut the door behind him with a soft click, then stood there, the silence stretching as he observed her, probably trying to decide how to begin. She smirked inwardly. Amateurs.

“Back for more, Prince?” she drawled, still not opening her eyes. “Or did you forget something?”

“No,” Ruhn said evenly, his voice steady. “But I thought I’d give it another shot. See if you’re willing to talk.”

She cracked an eye open, lazily meeting his gaze. “You’re wasting your time.”

“Maybe.” He took a few steps closer, cautiously, like he was approaching a cornered animal. “But I’ve got time to waste.”

She huffed a laugh, low and derisive. “Charming. Let me guess, you’re here to ‘break me down’? To ‘win me over’ with that hero complex you all seem to have?”

Ruhn shrugged, his expression calm, almost thoughtful. “I’m here because I want to know who you are.”

“Good luck with that.” She straightened, fixing him with a cold stare. “I’m not interested in playing your little games.”

“I’m not playing games,” he countered. “I just want to know the truth.”

“Which is?” she taunted, arching an eyebrow. “That I’m some big, bad villain you all have to take down? That I’m the monster hiding under your beds?”

“I don’t know what you are,” Ruhn admitted, his gaze intense, unwavering. “But I know you’re not just some nameless, faceless enemy. There’s more to you than that.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “How profound. Did you come up with that all by yourself?”

“Actually, yeah,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Figured it out while staring at these walls for hours.”

“Impressive.” She made a show of slow-clapping, her smile mocking. “But you’re still barking up the wrong tree.”

“Maybe.” He leaned against the table, still keeping a careful distance between them. “Or maybe you just don’t want anyone to see what’s really there.”

“What’s really there?” she echoed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “A broken girl? A tragic backstory? Save it, Prince. I’m not some damsel in distress for you to fix.”

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “I’m just trying to understand.”

She scoffed, but there was something in his eyes, something that made her chest tighten, just a little. “Understand what, exactly?”

“Who you are,” Ruhn said, his gaze piercing. “What you’re doing here.”

“Maybe I’m just here to enjoy the scenery.” She gestured around the dull, bare room. “Isn’t it lovely?”

His lips twitched, a flicker of amusement that he quickly smothered. “So, what do I call you then? Or should I just keep referring to you as ‘the girl with the pendant’?”

“Call me whatever you like,” she said coolly. “It won’t change a thing.”

“Names have power,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “I guess you’d know that better than anyone.”

Seraphis stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that someone like you…” He trailed off, his gaze steady on hers. “I bet you know the weight a name can carry.”

“Nice try,” she said, her voice hard, unyielding. “But you’re not getting anything out of me.”

Ruhn tilted his head slightly, watching her with a careful, assessing look. “Not even your name?”

“No,” she snapped, the word cutting through the air like a knife. “Not even that.”

He didn’t back down, didn’t look away. “Why not?”

“Because it’s none of your damn business.” She could feel her pulse quickening, that tightness in her chest coiling tighter.

“You know, I get it,” Ruhn said, his voice almost gentle. “You don’t want to give anyone anything. Not a piece of yourself, not a name, nothing.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Her voice was icy, her walls firmly back in place.

“But here’s the thing,” Ruhn continued, his eyes locked on hers. “You’re not just anyone. And you’re not just here for nothing. I don’t need to know your whole story, but I think we can start with something small. Something that doesn’t mean anything.”

Seraphis clenched her jaw, every instinct screaming at her to shut him down, to throw him off. But there was something about the way he was looking at her, something that made her blood boil and her heart race. “You want a name?” she sneered, the words a razor-edged taunt. “Fine. You can call me Seraphis.”

Ruhn’s eyes widened, just a fraction, and then his expression smoothed into something more careful, more guarded. “Seraphis,” he repeated softly, like he was tasting the word, testing it. “It suits you.”

She rolled her eyes, feigning nonchalance even as her heart pounded in her chest. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur. “But thanks.”

The silence stretched between them, taut and crackling with something unspoken, something dangerous. Then Ruhn straightened, pushing off the table.

“Guess I’ll leave you to your… solitude.” He turned, heading for the door. “For now.”

“Don’t do me any favors, Prince,” she called after him, her voice sharp, cutting. “You’ll just be wasting your time.”

He paused at the door, glancing back at her with a small, almost knowing smile. “I don’t think I am.”

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Seraphis let out a long, slow breath, her hands still clenched into fists. Stupid. So stupid. Letting that slip. Letting him get to her, even for a moment.

But it didn’t matter. It was just a name. A meaningless, stupid name.

She pushed off the wall, pacing the small room, her thoughts racing. This wasn’t going to work. She needed to get out of here, and fast. Before they found out anything more.

Before this place—and these people—started getting under her skin.

Seraphis leaned back against the cold wall, the silence settling around her like a heavy fog. Alone again, she let out a slow breath, her frustration simmering just below the surface.

“Idiots,” she muttered, glancing at the pendant resting on the small table. Its etchings glinted under the dim light, a reminder of the power it held—and the threat it posed.

She reached out, fingers brushing over its cool surface. As soon as she made contact, the pendant warmed in her grip, its glow intensifying. Seraphis frowned, lifting it closer to her eyes. “What now?” she whispered, sensing an unusual energy radiating from it.

The light pulsed rhythmically, almost alive, and she could feel it beckoning her. Panic flickered in her chest. The Asteri had warned her: if it glowed, someone was trying to track or summon her.

“Damn it,” she hissed, gripping the pendant tighter. She had a mission, a purpose, but this was an unwelcome complication.

“Focus,” she commanded herself, willing the pendant to stabilize. If this was an attempt to manipulate her, she wouldn’t allow it. She was in control. But who was it?

With a surge of determination, she concentrated on the pendant, trying to push back against the pull. The glow flickered, responding to her will, but the intensity remained.

“No,” she said, frustration bubbling over. “You’re not summoning me.”

With a final push, she commanded the pendant’s light to dim. The glow faded, leaving her in silence once more. She took a deep breath, the weight of the pendant now a grounding presence against her chest.

As calm settled in, she steeled herself. This pendant was connected to something important, but she wouldn’t let it dictate her actions. She had her own plans.

Seraphis’s resolve hardened. She would uncover the truth behind this glow and use it to her advantage. No one was going to pull her into their games.

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