***
"Father?"
The word echoed across the chamber like a dagger dipped in frost.
Everyone froze.
I turned slowly, every muscle in my body taut as a bowstring. The boy stepped out from the rift in the shadows like a forgotten truth resurrected.
No older than nine, with tousled black hair, golden-amber eyes—and a dark rune burning in the center of his forehead.
My eyes. My blood.
But he was no ordinary child.
The air around him shimmered with latent magic, powerful and ancient. He wore a cloak stitched in symbols I didn't recognize—arcane, primal, wrong.
Behind me, Seraphine's voice broke the silence.
"Desmond… who is that?"
The boy tilted his head at her voice, then smiled. "You're pretty," he said simply. "But you're not my mother."
I stepped forward, heart pounding. "What's your name, kid?"
He smiled wider. "My name is Arion."
The name slammed into my memory like thunder against stone.
Arion. The name Calista whispered in the dream-scape the night I was soul-marked. The name etched into the lost records of the First Flame. The name of the heir she created in secret before the fall.
My heir.
***
"No," I whispered. "This isn't possible."
Kael was already beside me, his hand on my shoulder. "He's real, Desmond. I can feel it in his aura. Blood of the Flame. Shadow-bound. But… unstable."
Arion looked up at us, confused. "You don't want me?"
My heart twisted.
"I don't know you," I said, voice rough. "Where have you been?"
"With her," he said, voice small. "With the Queen. She said you'd come. She said… you'd try to take me away."
Seraphine's blade was halfway drawn. "He's dangerous."
"He's a child!" I snapped.
"He's a weapon," Kael warned, stepping in front of Arion now. "Raised in shadow. Enchanted from conception. You don't know what he's capable of."
"I know he's mine," I said, stepping past Kael and kneeling in front of Arion. "And I won't abandon him. Not again."
The boy looked up at me, eyes wide, hopeful. "You'll stay?"
I reached out—just as his pupils narrowed like a serpent's.
And then he exploded.
***
The blast hit like a thunderclap.
Dark energy radiated outward in a pulse that shattered the marble tiles and threw everyone backward. I crashed into the temple pillar, coughing up blood, vision spinning.
"Desmond!" Seraphine's voice was distant, drowned under a roar of wind and screams.
I forced my eyes open.
The chamber had transformed into a storm of chaos. Arion stood at its center, hovering now, eyes glowing solid gold.
"Why won't you love me?!" he screamed.
Tears streamed down his face, but the fury was unstoppable.
Flames lashed out of his fingertips—black and gold, unstable, ripping through stone. One of the Council elders—Thorn Crown—was obliterated before he could raise a shield.
Kray dragged Seraphine behind a pillar as I struggled to stand.
"He's cracked!" Kael shouted, casting binding glyphs in the air. "If he keeps channeling like this, he'll collapse the entire realm!"
I pushed past the pain and forced myself to move. Every step was a battle. But I had to reach him.
My son.
My curse.
My redemption.
***
I called his name.
"Arion!"
His head snapped toward me.
"Why did you leave me there?" he screamed. "She said you chose her. Said I was never enough!"
His body pulsed with power, lightning sparking in his wake.
"She lied!" I shouted, finally within reach. "She used you!"
"No!" he screamed, launching another bolt of raw energy. I barely managed to raise a shield in time. The force cracked my bones.
Seraphine's voice pierced the storm. "Desmond! Pull him back! Use the Blood Flame—before he loses himself!"
The Blood Flame.
The third seal. The crown of fire I inherited when I absorbed my dark half. It wasn't just for war. It was for balance. For bonding.
I summoned it.
Fire ignited across my skin, forming the radiant rune-crown along my back and arms.
I stepped into the storm.
He threw everything at me—rage, power, desperation.
But I walked through it.
"I am your father," I said, voice steady. "And I love you. I didn't know. But I'm here now. And I won't leave you again."
The flames around him flickered.
He faltered.
"I'm scared," he whispered.
I reached for him.
And this time… he let me.
***
The storm collapsed.
We fell to our knees in the center of the circle, and I held him as he sobbed into my chest.
He was shaking, barely breathing. But he was alive.
"I'm sorry," he cried.
"I know," I whispered. "It's not your fault."
I looked over my shoulder. Seraphine's eyes met mine—unsure, guarded, but not rejecting. Kael stood frozen, and even the Council remained silent.
Arion pulled back. "She's still watching. From the Rift."
My stomach turned.
"Calista?"
He nodded. "She's not done."
***
We left the Chamber of Cinders at dusk.
Arion slept curled against my side, his power dampened, but still flickering under the surface like a sleeping storm.
Seraphine walked beside me in silence until we reached the upper terraces of the monastery ruins.
Then she stopped.
"We need to talk."
I turned to her. "About him?"
"About us."
I braced myself.
"I love you, Desmond. But I didn't sign up for this."
"I didn't either."
She crossed her arms. "He's powerful. Unstable. And he's not mine. He's hers."
I swallowed hard. "But he's mine. I have to try."
She looked away, jaw clenched. "I know. That's the problem."
A long silence stretched.
And then I stepped closer.
"I love you, Seraphine. Nothing changes that. Not Arion. Not Calista. Not any past life."
She looked up at me, searching my eyes.
"Then prove it."
I kissed her.
Hard. Deep. With everything I had left.
She didn't pull away.
She kissed me back—fierce, needy, angry, loving.
Our bodies collided, clothes peeled away in a frenzy of emotion.
I lifted her onto the stone railing, slid into her with a growl.
She gasped, biting her lip, wrapping her legs around me.
"I hate how much I love you," she whispered.
"Good," I said, thrusting into her, making her moan. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
We moved like fire and thunder, like war and worship. Every thrust, every cry, was a promise not to give up. Not on this. Not on us.
When we climaxed together, I held her close, buried my face in her neck.
And whispered, "Whatever comes next… we face it together."
***
But far away…
In a tower of void and thorn…
Calista watched through the mirror of blood.
And smiled.
"They chose him," she said to the figure beside her. "As expected."
The second figure stepped from the shadows.
Another child.
A girl.
With Seraphine's eyes.
And my smile.
"Now," Calista whispered, placing a kiss on the girl's head, "it's your turn."