The clearing reeked of ash and silence.
Alex's ears still rang from the howl. The sound had not faded so much as it settled into the bones of the world, a pressure that made her body ache. The grimoire in her arms pulsed faintly, as though it had a heartbeat of its own. Whatever light it had unleashed still clung to her, buried in her veins. She imagined herself glowing like a lantern in a cave full of wolves, impossible to hide, impossible to snuff out.
Azaelia had not moved since she dragged them here. Her wings hung half‑unfurled, crimson eyes narrowed toward the last knife of red sun bleeding into a sky burning down to dusk. Her smirk was gone. Her face looked hard and deliberate. Maybe even worried, though she would not admit it.
"That book," she said at last, voice low. "It spilled sky‑being light into the Nether. Wrath's beast smelled it and Baelgor hunts anything holy."
Alex kept her eyes on the tree line, but her voice was small. "So what do I do?"
"You smother the light."
Azaelia turned so sharply that Alex flinched. The stare felt like a blade against the throat. "Sin is your shadow. Wrap yourself in it until the glow cannot escape. If you do not cloak that light, Baelgor will track you before full dark. And when he does," she let the pause hang like a guillotine, "you will not have time to scream."
A cold tremor ran down Alex's spine. "I have never done that. I do not know how."
"You will learn. Now."
Azaelia's wings snapped once, scattering sparks of black‑blue fire before folding tight. The air around her smelled scorched and metallic.
"Your grimoire is leaking light like a cracked vessel," she said. "And it is linked to your core. Think of it like this. There is a candle burning in your navel. Baelgor smells it from leagues away. You want to live? Pour sin energy over it. Layer after layer until the flame is gone."
Alex shut her eyes and forced the picture to form. A candle burned stubbornly beneath her ribs, a thin bright glow. She poured sin energy until it slid over the imaginary candle in her mind, which was the light in her core. The flame sputtered. The grimoire's pulse dimmed. For a single wonderful heartbeat, she thought it was working.
Then the thought slipped.
A wet hiss lifted from her skin as black mist bled out, laced with a faint blue undertone. The forest responded at once. Branches rattled without wind. Shadows leaned toward her as if curious.
Azaelia cursed and yanked Alex down just as a heavy clank rang across the distance. Chains. Dragging.
Alex's heart lurched. "Was that—"
"Again," Azaelia snapped. She pressed Alex's shoulders to the dirt and kept her eyes on the horizon. "If you flare like that again, he will stop sniffing and start charging."
Alex swallowed and tried again.
She pressed the image hard until her jaw ached. The flicker in her navel dulled. She layered her sin energy over and over. Her wings twitched, feathers trembling. Ten seconds passed. Then Fifteen. The grimoire's pulse quieted to a faint tremor.
Then a whisper slipped in. Lust, soft as warm breath on the back of the neck, and Wrath, a low growl that promised relief if she just let go. Heat crept up her cheeks. The sin energy cracked. Light flared. Her aura burst outward in a wash of blue mist.
The chains rattled louder. The ground shivered.
Alex dropped forward onto her hands, gasping. "I cannot hold it down."
"Because you are coddling it."
Azaelia crouched beside her. Clawed fingers caught Alex's chin and lifted until hazel and red irises met. "Sin does not listen when you beg. It listens when you command. That light is not a gift. It is bait. Smother it, or it smothers you."
The words cut like grit under the bandage. Alex closed her eyes again. No more pleading. She imagined the glow as prey thrashing, trying to break free. She imagined herself as the hunter. She threw her own chains around it, dragged it down, forced it into the pit of her Sin Core, and pressed until her arms shook. Wrath flared, Lust hissed and coaxed, but she did not move.
The air grew still. The forest hushed. Even the grimoire fell quiet.
Alex opened her eyes, panting. "Did I do it?"
Azaelia studied her. For the first time since the howl, she nodded. "Better. Not perfect. But better."
Relief bloomed through Alex's chest. However, it bloomed too soon.
A chain struck rock somewhere beyond the trees. The sound rang like a bell hammered in a tomb. A guttural growl split the air like tearing iron.
Alex's blood went cold. "He is still coming."
"Of course." Azaelia's eyes cut toward the trees, voice steady as iron. "You are a newborn trying to hide a forest fire. He smelled your first flare. He will not stop until he is certain. Or until he has chewed through your throat."
Alex bit down in panic. "Then what do I—"
"You move."
Azaelia stood in a single smooth motion. Her wings stretched wide, then settled in again. She planted her left foot. Her right crossed sharply behind at a diagonal. Hips turned. Shoulders stayed loose. For a heartbeat, her outline blurred sideways, and she seemed to fold into shadow. She reappeared one pace to the left, ash barely disturbed.
Alex gawked in amazement. "You disappeared?"
"No. It may seem like that, but that will be your second technique I'll teach you. The Feather step." Her mouth twitched. "Done correctly, you vanish from the eye's path. Done poorly, you feed a chain with your throat."
She gestured toward Alex. "Your turn."
Alex forced her legs to stand. She planted her left foot and tried to cross the right behind. Her feet tangled. Her wings flared and knocked ash into the air. She stumbled and would have fallen if Azaelia had not steadied her by the elbow.
"Too wide," Azaelia said. "Small and sharp. Your hips do the work, not your feet. Eyes forward, not at the ground. Again."
Alex tightened her jaw and reset her position. Plant. Cross. Twist. This time, she kept the step narrow. For a breath, her outline smeared. The shadows clung. She reached the new spot without falling.
"Good," Azaelia said. Her gaze flicked to the trees. "Do it again. Do not flare your wings."
The left foot kissed ash and dug in lightly. The right crossed close behind, toes gliding instead of scraping. The hips did most of the movement. The shoulders did not fight it. Alex felt the trick of it, how she could let the body carry her into the small space beside the first step, how the eye lost track when wings stayed folded and breath stayed quiet. She almost smiled.
A shriek of metal tore the smile away. A chain ripped through the clearing and carved a trench where she had stood a heartbeat earlier. Dirt sprayed across her face. She yelped and skittered backward.
Only then did she understand. If she had not found that single smooth step, she would already be dead.
"Back to Sin suppression," Azaelia said. "Breathe with it. We move and smother at once."
Alex sealed her lips and went to work.
Candle. Sin energy. Chains. She dragged the glow into the core and smothered it in layers. Sweat ran down her temple. Her wings twitched and rattled faint feathers. The grimoire's pulse dulled to a low murmur.
Azaelia's gaze roved over the forest edge. For a moment, nothing stirred. Even the demonic cicadas fell silent.
Alex coughed. Only once. The thin break in focus was enough. The glow licked at the sin and found a seam.
Clank… clank…
The sound of chains drew nearer, slow and patient.
"Damn it," Alex hissed. She drove both fists into the dirt and ash. "This feels impossible."
"Nothing is impossible," Azaelia said. She caught Alex's wrist, lifted her hand, and pressed it flat to Alex's sternum. "You feel that light. Crush it. Use your own fingers in your mind. Snuff it out until all that remains is shadow."
Her tone softened a fraction. "You have drowned in Lust already. Use it like poison. Poison smothers flame better than water."
Alex tightened her jaw. She drew in a slow breath and obeyed.
Light. Flame. Candle. She imagined her own hand closing over glow, knuckles white, cutting off air. Lust's whisper wrapped it. The light fought, then dimmed, then thinned to an ember.
The forest went still. The chains paused.
Alex sagged. "I—"
A chain scythed through the tree line without warning and cut a new trench where she had been kneeling. Shards of glass‑black stone spun out in a hot spray. Alex threw herself backward and fell on one elbow. Pain shot down her forearm.
The chain recoiled into darkness and left only silence.
Azaelia was already standing between Alex and the trees. Her wings spread wide and cast long knives of shadow. Blue‑edged fire danced along her fingers. Her crimson eyes did not leave the woods.
"The lessons are over," she said. "Now we survive."
The clearing held its breath. Even the hateful breeze that always crawled along the Nether seemed to stop and listen.
"Three rules," Azaelia said. "If you want to live against Baelgor."
Alex nodded. Her tongue felt dry enough to crack.
"One," Azaelia said. "Never let him pin you. If his weight is on you, you are already dead. I watched a Dread Herald brace an attack by Baelgor. One paw landed. What remained was a crater-shaped paw, and all that remained of the Dread Herald's body was mush. Dead."
Alex swallowed until her throat found spit again.
"Two. Never let the chains encircle you. They move like serpents. Fast, hungry, smart. If they wrap around you, they drag you down and peel you apart."
Somewhere distant, a single link chimed like a struck bell.
"Three," Azaelia said, voice low. "Never breathe in his steam. It is not heat alone. It is Wrath. If it fills your lungs, you will cook from the inside while your mind howls itself to ash."
"So, if he touches me, if the chains circle me, or if I breathe, I die."
"If," Azaelia said, putting emphasis on the word, "you stop with the 'ifs' and start doing, you live."
She glanced over her shoulder. Her face looked carved from stone. "You will hold suppression while moving. Standing still is a luxury."
"Then show me how to breathe with it," Alex said. "Or I will lose it again."
Azaelia's answer came like a drill call. "Triad rhythm. In for four. Hold for four. Out for six. When holding your breath, picture the candle. On the exhale, pour your sin energy. Every exhale is a layer. Every layer muffles the scent of light."
Alex obeyed. In for four. The ash stung her tongue. Hold for four. The light jumped, stubborn and bright. Out for six. She flooded it in black. She felt it shrink.
"Again," Azaelia said. "Now step with it. Small. Quiet. Move your feet as if the earth is listening."
Alex slid her right foot back. Her wings wanted to flare. She forced them to fold flat. She pictured the candle suffocating and kept her breath long and low.
Azaelia tapped the inside of Alex's ankle with her heel. "Weight on the ball, not the heel. You are a blade, not a boulder."
Alex corrected and moved again. In four. Hold. Out six. She laid another coat of sin. The glow dimmed further.
Azaelia circled like a patient predator, adjusting wrist, shoulder, and chin. "Wings low. Do not flag. When you lift them, you announce where you are."
"I feel like I will topple."
"Then topple forward, not back. Forward is where we live."
A small, humorless breath escaped Alex that almost counted as a laugh. She kept moving. Breath after breath. Layer after layer. Her chest ached. Her legs trembled. The glow dulled to a coal behind her navel.
"Now add the bind," Azaelia said. "Imagine a ring around your Sin core. Then imagine chains. Count ten links, and lock them around your core. That is when the full technique of sin suppression is being used."
Alex closed her eyes as she walked the tiny steps. She formed a ring and cinched it tight. Each link bore a sigil. Each closed with a click she felt inside more than heard. One. Two. Three. By seven, her lungs burned, and she wanted to gasp. She refused. Eight. Nine. Ten.
The ring is sealed.
A hush settled through her body. The grimoire's pulse sank to a faint murmur. The forest seemed to step back.
Azaelia's chin dipped once. Approval. "Good."
An ember drifted across the clearing and died before it touched ash.
Then the ground vibrated.
A paw landed somewhere in the trees. Not near. Not far. The next one shook fine dust from the leaves. The next rattled the iron taste across Alex's tongue. The beast did not walk quickly. It did not need to.
A faint whistle cut through the clearing causing Alex to turn in the direction of the sound.
"Down," Azaelia snapped. She caught Alex by the collar and yanked her sideways in the same instant.
The chain slammed into the ground where Alex's chest had been, black stone exploding in shards. Splinters of molten gravel hissed across the dirt, stinging her arms and cheek. The smell of scorched iron and sulfur bit at her nose.
Alex rolled to her side, lungs straining.
"You did not see it," Azaelia said flatly.
Alex's throat tightened. "I didn't."
"You heard it." Azaelia's gaze flicked over the trench, jagged and glowing faintly. "That is enough to live."
The chain withdrew into the tree line with a hiss, molten grooves steaming in its wake. The earth sizzled where it struck, as though the soil itself could not bear the touch. Alex's stomach twisted. It wasn't iron at all—it bled Wrath.
Something large moved between the trees, its shape swallowed in the shadows, but the air grew hotter each time it passed.
"Continue suppression," Azaelia ordered. "And listen."
Alex wanted to scream How am I supposed to do both, but she clamped her jaw and obeyed. She pictured sin energy sliding over flame. Her right foot slid behind the left in another feather step, wings folding close. She swore she could almost feel Baelgor's molten eyes in the dark.
Azaelia moved beside her, correcting with small taps and nudges—heel to ankle, wingtip to elbow, a claw brushing her shoulder lower. Alex's body ached, but the rhythm held.
Her thighs burned. Her chest ached. Her wings felt too heavy. But she welcomed it. Pain kept her from thinking of the light. Pain meant the fire inside was being forced lower, choked beneath her will.
The paw steps stopped. The chains quieted.
Silence fell so suddenly that Alex's ears rang with the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her chest. The forest itself seemed to freeze, trees rigid as if afraid to sway. Her heart pounded so loud she was sure Baelgor could hear it.
"Where did it go?" she whispered.
"Smelling the air," Azaelia replied. Her crimson eyes did not blink. "Deciding from which angle to eat you."
Alex swallowed. "That's… comforting."
"To me, yes. It means I have time to teach you how not to be eaten." Azaelia's voice thinned, colder than iron. "You are learning fast. That will save you. However, don't mistake it for being ready."
The shadows in the trees shifted. Something moved opposite where the last chain had struck.
"Left," Azaelia whispered. "And back."
They slid left and back together, feather step by feather step, Alex clutching the grimoire tight. Her breath came in the triad rhythm, her core bound in links of her own making. For the first time, the glow felt muffled to a coal instead of a torch. She almost loved the pressure of it—control, not chaos.
A shape peeled from the undergrowth. Not the beast itself. A chain. Its barbed hook glistened with molten ichor, dragging like a serpent across the dirt. It slithered, hunting for the smallest leak of light.
It stopped inches from Alex's knee.
Her lungs burned. Every nerve screamed to inhale. Azaelia's hand hovered at her spine, ready to throw her aside.
The chain twitched, testing the air. Alex felt it looking at her, if such a thing was possible. She clenched her jaw until her teeth ached, refusing to flinch.
Then Azaelia's right wing flicked. A single feather snapped free, igniting in a cold blue fire midflight. It landed beside the chain, not on it. Close enough to mimic a heat source.
The chain pounced, burying its barbs into the ash.
Azaelia snapped her fist closed. The feather collapsed to soot. The chain writhed once in confusion, then recoiled back into the shadows.
Only then did Alex dare to breathe. The air scraped her throat raw, but it was the sweetest breath she'd ever taken.
"Breathe," Azaelia reminded softly. "Continue the triad breathing to keep your sin suppressed."
Alex obeyed. Her body trembled with the effort. "Suppressing sin," she rasped. "Will that stop it from finding me?"
"It will not erase the scent," Azaelia said. Her crimson gaze stayed on the trees. "But it will stop you from adding to it. The light is...loud. We make it quiet. Confuse him. Survive the first pass. Then we move."
Alex tightened her grip on the grimoire. "Move where?"
Azaelia's mouth curled into something too sharp to be called a smile. Her eyes burned, fixed on the dark horizon.
"Somewhere worse."