The world burned.
Darkness shattered into fire as Darius rose from the marble floor, his wings stretching wide, each feather crackling with shadow and flame. The air trembled under his fury. Every rune on the walls split apart, bleeding silver light.
Guards rushed toward him, blades drawn—too late.
With a single motion, Darius raised his hand, and the shadows obeyed. They swarmed like living smoke, striking the soldiers down before they could even scream. The throne room that once echoed with whispers now howled with chaos.
Elara, still bound by the glowing chains, tried to move. Her chest ached—her heart burning with Darius's pain. The bond pulsed violently inside her, drawing strength from his rage.
"Darius—stop!" she shouted, her voice weak. "You'll destroy yourself!"
He turned toward her, his eyes no longer human—two glowing rings of light and darkness intertwined.
"They tried to kill you," he said, voice rough, broken. "They'll never touch you again."
The ruler of the Shadow Court raised a hand, summoning a storm of black flame. "You defy your own kind for her?"
Darius's wings snapped open. "I already did."
The flames collided—black and silver light filling the hall with blinding brilliance. The impact threw Elara backward; her chains shattered, sending her tumbling across the floor. She hit the ground hard, gasping.
Her hand brushed against something—cold, metallic. A sword.
Her father's sword.
It pulsed beneath her touch, reacting to her mark.
Silver light burst from it, spiraling upward, wrapping her in waves of power.
Suddenly, she wasn't just watching the battle—she was inside it.
Every heartbeat, every surge of Darius's fury, she felt as her own.
Her mark flared again—then split, revealing a second sigil beneath it. The Veil's true seal.
Her eyes turned silver.
The ruler turned toward her, voice trembling. "No… that's not possible. The seal was broken centuries ago—"
Elara lifted the sword. "Then let me remind you why."
She swung it, and the entire room erupted in light. The silver wave tore through the dark flames, slashing through the ruler's magic like paper. Darius shielded her as the explosion swallowed the hall.
When the smoke cleared, half the Court lay in ruins. The throne was gone.
Darius knelt, breathing heavily, his wings tattered and burned. Elara rushed to him, dropping beside his side. "You're hurt again—"
He shook his head faintly. "You shouldn't have done that. The power… it's too strong. It'll eat you alive."
Elara gripped his hand, her mark glowing softly. "Then we'll burn together."
Before he could answer, a slow clap echoed through the ruins.
They turned.
A woman stepped through the smoke—tall, wrapped in flowing blue silk, her eyes gleaming with faint violet light. Her aura radiated calm power, almost divine.
"It seems," she said softly, "the stories were true. The Veilborn lives."
Elara frowned. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled faintly. "Your mother's sister. The last Keeper of the Veil."
Darius stiffened. "Lyssara… I thought you were dead."
"Death is a luxury the Veil no longer allows," she said, her gaze falling on the two of them. "If you wish to survive what comes next, you'll have to leave this realm. The Shadow Court will rise again… and the bond between you has already begun to unravel the worlds."
Elara met her eyes. "Then tell me what I am."
Lyssara's smile faded. "Not what, child… who. You are the Heir of the Broken Veil—and the key to its end."
The world trembled again. The marble beneath their feet began to crack, glowing with blinding light.
Lyssara extended her hand. "Come with me, before the Veil collapses."
Elara glanced at Darius—bruised, broken, but still watching her with fierce, silent devotion.
She took his hand. "Together?"
He nodded once. "Always."
And as the Shadow Court crumbled behind them, they stepped through Lyssara's portal—into a world neither had ever seen before.
✨ End of Chapter 8 ✨