I crouched down, frozen in disbelief.
"Jason…" The name left me as a whisper, cracked and desperate.
My arms wrapped around his lifeless body, pulling him against me as if I could anchor him back into this world. Please. No.
Something inside me splintered into a million jagged pieces. My chest tightened, breaking and breaking again as I clutched him tighter. His weight felt wrong — heavy, limp, already slipping away.
Then I saw it. The vial in his hand. Etherance. Open. Drained of every last drop.
My gaze darted to his mouth. The purple stain. And lower—
The wound in his chest, dark and unforgiving.
Poison and steel. Two deaths in one.
"What… what could have happened?" My thoughts fractured, unraveling into panic. "Who did this to you? Who?" The words screamed inside my skull, but my voice broke into silence.
Tears fell unchecked, burning tracks down my face, dripping onto his pale skin. Cold. Too cold.
I pressed my forehead to his, rocking him as if that motion could breathe life back into his chest. But nothing stirred. Nothing answered.
And in that hollow, suffocating stillness, something inside me shifted. Grief curdled into something sharper. Darker.
This wasn't just loss.
This was a wound — and someone would bleed for it.
Clara's POV
I threw on the first clothes I could find and ran. Staying in bed felt like being sucked into something dark; I couldn't breathe there any longer.
The corridor blurred past me. My feet pounded until I burst through the door to the prison room, breathless, heart knocking against my ribs.
He was there. Ciel knelt on the floor cradling Jason's body, tears carving paths down his face. The sight stole the air from me.
"Jason!" I dropped to my knees, the sound tearing out of me. I bent over him, hands numb as I brushed his hair away. Cold met my fingers. Cold and still.
Ciel lifted his head. He looked broken. My chest folded in. "What happened?" My voice came out thin, trembling.
He swallowed as if the word itself hurt. "I don't know." His jaw tightened. "But I swear—Serena, whoever did this, I will find them. I will make them pay."
A voice behind us — small, shaking — made me turn. Auriel stood at the doorway, pale as a sheet. She pointed with a finger that wouldn't stop trembling. "Look."
My gaze followed and the sight lodged like a stone in my throat: chains, torn and snapped, scattered across the floor.
For a breath I didn't understand. And then the pieces clicked into place: the bite marks on the links, the way the metal had been forced apart. Ciel's face had changed; darkness pooled behind his eyes. He spat the name like venom. "Lila."
The world narrowed. Lila. The name tasted like betrayal. I looked from the broken chains to Jason, to Ciel, and the horror settled in my bones. She killed him.
Lucien's POV
I sank into the chair in Asriel's office, finally free from that wretched cave. The room was vast and imposing—walls lined with shelves of ancient tomes and maps, a heavy desk carved from blackwood scarred with knife marks, and banners of fallen kingdoms draped across the stone walls. The air smelled faintly of ink, dust, and iron. Yes, this suited him perfectly: both brilliance and menace wrapped into one.
Asriel locked the door behind him and strode to sit across from me, his eyes glinting with restless amusement.
"Well," he said, leaning back lazily, "shall we begin?"
"Yes," I answered, my stomach growling in protest. "But first—I need food."
He gave a sharp grin and snapped his fingers. A towering fallen appeared at once, bowing low.
"Gordon. Bring food for our guest."
"As you command."
Moments later, Gordon returned, laying the meal before me. I wasted no time, eating hungrily while Asriel watched, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Mid-bite, I asked, "So. This plan you keep boasting about—how certain are you it will actually work?"
"Don't worry," he replied smoothly. "It will work. I've accounted for everything."
I frowned but kept eating. Reckless as he was, Asriel had always been a master strategist. If anyone could pull off something impossible, it was him.
Finally, I set the plate aside. "Well, now that I'm full, why don't we get started?"
"Gladly." He rose, walking toward his desk. The shuffle of parchment echoed as he reached for the documents, but before he could speak further, a knock rattled against the door.
His expression soured. "Who is it?" he barked, irritation sharp in his tone.
"It's me, Master," Gordon's muffled voice replied. "She's here."
"She?" My brows furrowed.
Asriel's smirk curved wider, though his eyes darkened with something unreadable.
The door creaked open, Gordon stepping aside.
And there she stood.
It was Lila.