The maintenance tunnel was a suffocating descent into the earth's gut. The air tasted like ancient dust and the sharp, coppery tang of freshly ground stone.
It wasn't just old; it was unstable. Rotten wooden beams groaned under the weight of the world, and the walls vibrated with the hum of residual, broken magic.
Alda led them down with a scavenger's twitchy ease. Behind her, Damaris whispered stabilization spells—precise, clinical patches on a dying structure. Emin and Ravenna brought up the rear.
Emin was a solid wall of muscle, his presence the only thing keeping Ravenna upright as she felt the single, terrifying emotional spike radiating from the front.
Asher was functioning, but barely. The realization that Nokon—his only light in a dark past—might be a traitor had fractured him.
His movements were too sharp. His breathing was a shallow, panicked rattle.
He's a thread about to snap, Ravenna thought. And I'm the only one holding the spool.
"We're close," Alda whispered. She stopped at a section of stone where the smell of oil and hot metal was overwhelming. "Nyzor's team is just through that wall. They're drilling into the main repository now."
Asher moved to the wall. He drew his knife. His hands were shaking. "We hit them fast. Kill the threats before they breach the inner seal."
"No," Emin countered. His voice was a low, iron rumble. "The Stone is the priority. Secure it, then run. Warlock, give us a distraction."
Damaris was already scanning the ceiling. "The air pocket above them is thin. I can channel a pressure wave. It'll cause a localized collapse. We'll have thirty seconds of chaos. Use them."
Damaris began to weave the spell.
CRACK.
The ceiling ahead didn't wait for him. It shattered.
Three heavy-armored Lycan guards spilled into the tunnel, their visors glowing a predatory red. Behind them stepped a figure in deep, black Coven robes.
He didn't just walk; he owned the space. He radiated a cold, overwhelming authority that made the air feel thin.
"Intruders," the figure said. His voice was calm, resonant, and horribly familiar. "Neutralize the Lycan and the Rogue. Secure the Hybrid intact."
The Lycan guards surged.
Emin roared—a sound of pure, bone-deep fury—and shifted. He met the charge with the brute force of a Mack truck. Damaris dropped his distraction spell and conjured razor-sharp rock shards, flinging them with the precision of a surgeon.
Asher didn't move.
His eyes were locked on the robed figure. The way he stood. The way he tilted his head.
It's him. It's really him.
The certainty of the betrayal slammed into Asher's mental walls. They didn't just crack; they disintegrated.
The paralysis was instant.
Asher stood there, defenseless, as his knife clattered to the stone floor. His fear exploded through the Mate Bond—a massive, silent wave of betrayal, shame, and absolute despair.
Ravenna staggered. She clutched her chest, gasping for air as the crushing weight of Asher's soul-death stole her breath.
He's breaking. I can feel him dying inside.
"Rogue! Fight!" Emin roared, momentarily pinned by two guards.
But Asher was gone. He just stared as the robed figure stepped past the brawl. The man's focus was entirely on the immobilized Rogue.
The figure raised a hand. Dark, binding magic began to swirl around his fingers.
"You should not have returned, Asher," the man said. His voice was laced with mocking disappointment.
He reached up and pulled back the hood.
The face was handsome, aristocratic, and perfectly composed. It was Nokon.
There was no regret in his eyes. Only the cold, flat victory of a man whose plan had worked perfectly.
"You really thought I would risk my position for a sentimental half-breed, Ash?" Nokon asked. His voice dripped with condescension.
Nokon looked past Asher, straight at Ravenna.
"I need you alive, Hybrid," Nokon continued. "But I needed Asher to bring you to me. He was the perfect, desperate little pawn."
Nokon smiled. It was a horrifying, empty expression.
"You thought I let you escape, Asher? I sent you to them. I knew the Mate Bond was the key to drawing out the Hybrid. And you, my dear Ash, were the perfect, obedient catalyst."
The binding spell shot forward.
The emotional surge that hit Ravenna was the strongest she had ever felt. It was the sound of a man's entire identity folding in on itself.
No. I won't let you have him.
Ravenna didn't scream in pain. She screamed in fury.
The Hybrid power, fueled by a desperate need to protect her mate, erupted. She didn't throw it at Nokon—he was too fast, his shields too strong. Instead, she channeled it through the bond and slammed it into the support beams directly over his head.
KRACK!
The ceiling gave up.
Rock, dust, and ancient wood rained down in a violent collapse. The Lycan guards were buried instantly. Nokon's spell hissed into the dirt as he was forced to leap backward.
Ravenna collapsed. She was hollow. Drained. But the immediate threat was buried under a ton of rubble.
Emin fought his way out of the rockfall, grabbing Ravenna and dragging her toward the exit. Alda was already screaming for them to move.
The binding spell released Asher. He didn't run. He just stared at the pile of rocks where Nokon had been standing. His face was a mask of utter, silent devastation.
"He... he used me," Asher whispered. His voice was broken. "It was all a lie."
The Mate Bond was silent now. No panic. Just a profound, overwhelming grief.
The tunnel was coming down. Nyzor's forces were regrouping. And the one man Asher had ever trusted had just revealed himself as the architect of their ruin.