Cassia's POV
"DOWN!"
Theron's shout is the only warning I get before he tackles me to the ground.
Something massive crashes through the wall where I was standing. Stone and dust explode everywhere. When I look up, I see a creature made of pure shadow—no face, no solid form, just darkness with too many claws reaching for me.
Theron's hand shoots out. Ice erupts from his palm, freezing the creature solid. It shatters into black fragments that dissolve into smoke.
"Are you hurt?" He pulls me to my feet, his eyes scanning me for injuries.
"I'm fine." My heart hammers so hard I can barely breathe. "What was that?"
"A scout." Theron's jaw tightens. "Which means the main army is close behind."
More crashes echo through the fortress. Screams. The clash of weapons. Somewhere above us, I hear a woman crying for help.
"We need to find Malekith," I say urgently. "If his voice came from inside, he must be—"
"He's not physically here." An older man appears in the doorway—tall, with kind eyes and silver hair. He's dressed like a soldier but carries himself differently. Gentler. "Dark sorcerers can project their voices across distances. He's using a vessel. Someone in the fortress is channeling him."
Theron nods. "Sir Kael. Good timing."
Kael bows slightly. "Your Majesty. My lady." His eyes linger on me with something like wonder. "So you're the one."
"The one who ruined everything? Yes, that's me." I can't keep the bitterness from my voice.
"The one who gave him hope," Kael corrects gently. "I've served King Theron for twenty years. This is the first time I've seen him smile."
Before I can respond, the fortress shakes again. More screaming. Closer this time.
"We need to evacuate the civilians," Theron says, shifting into command mode. "Kael, take fifty soldiers and clear a path to the eastern tunnels. Get everyone out who can't fight."
"And you, Your Majesty?"
"I'm going to find whoever is channeling Malekith and end them." Theron's eyes flash with cold fury. "Then I'm going to destroy every shadow demon in my fortress."
"I'm coming with you," I say immediately.
"Absolutely not—"
"You need me." I hold up my hand, letting the golden light flicker across my palm. "These demons are made of dark magic. I have divine power. I'm literally designed to fight them."
Theron and Kael exchange a glance.
"She's right," Kael says quietly. "Light magic is the only thing that can permanently destroy shadow creatures. Your ice can slow them, but it won't kill them."
Theron looks like he wants to argue, but another explosion rocks the fortress. We don't have time for debate.
"Fine," he snaps. "But you stay behind me. If anything happens—"
"If anything happens to me, you die too," I remind him. "So maybe we should both try not to die."
Despite everything, Kael almost smiles. "I like her, Your Majesty."
"That makes one of us," Theron mutters, but I catch the lie in his voice.
Kael leaves to organize the evacuation. Theron and I move through the fortress together, following the pull of dark magic that thrums through the air like a rotten heartbeat.
"How do you know where to go?" I ask as he leads us through a maze of corridors.
"The curse makes me sensitive to dark magic." His voice is tight. "I can feel it like insects crawling under my skin. The stronger the magic, the worse it feels."
I remember what he said about not feeling anything for twenty years. Now he feels everything—including pain. Because of me.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
He glances back, surprised. "For what?"
"For making you feel pain again. I know you said feeling anything is better than nothing, but—"
"Don't." He stops walking and turns to face me fully. "Don't apologize for giving me back my humanity. Even if it hurts, it's mine. Do you understand?"
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
His hand reaches out, hesitates, then gently touches my cheek. His fingers are cold, but the gesture is warm.
"When this is over," he says quietly, "we're going to have a long conversation about prophecies and fate and choice. But right now, I need you to trust me."
"I do," I say, surprising myself. It's true. Despite everything Seraphine said, despite all the lies and manipulation, I trust him. Maybe I'm stupid. Maybe I'm being used. But in this moment, I believe he'll protect me.
Theron's eyes soften. Then he drops his hand and turns back to the corridor.
"The dark magic is strongest in the West Tower," he says. "We're close."
We climb a spiral staircase that seems to go on forever. The air grows colder with each step. My breath comes out in white puffs. Frost coats the walls.
Finally, we reach a heavy wooden door. Dark energy pulses from behind it so strongly that even I can feel it—like standing too close to a fire.
Theron puts his hand on the door handle. "Whatever we find in here, stay calm. Stay focused. And whatever happens, don't let them separate us."
"Them?"
He pushes open the door.
The room beyond is massive—some kind of throne room or ceremonial chamber. But what stops my heart are the people standing in a circle around a glowing purple symbol on the floor.
Seraphine stands at the center, her hands raised, chanting in a language I don't recognize. Around her are at least a dozen soldiers—all wearing Theron's uniform. His own men.
And standing opposite Seraphine, completing the circle, is someone I never expected to see.
Sir Kael.
The kind guard who helped evacuate civilians. Who said he wanted to see Theron smile again. Who seemed so gentle and trustworthy.
"No," I breathe.
Kael looks up, and the kindness is gone from his eyes. In its place is cold calculation.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he says, and he actually sounds sorry. "But the curse has to end. Even if it means betraying you."
Theron goes absolutely still beside me. The temperature drops so sharply that ice spreads across the floor like a living thing.
"Kael." His voice is soft. Deadly. "You were my friend. The only person I trusted."
"I know." Kael's jaw tightens. "That's why I'm the only one who could get close enough to do this."
Seraphine stops chanting and smiles at us. "Hello again. You two are predictable—I knew you'd follow the dark magic straight to us."
"What are you doing?" I demand, though part of me already knows.
"Summoning Malekith, of course." Seraphine gestures to the purple symbol. "He needs a physical anchor in this world to fully manifest. We're providing it."
"Why?" Theron's hands crackle with ice magic. "Why betray me, Kael? After everything—"
"Because you've become a monster!" Kael's shout echoes through the chamber. "Twenty years ago, you were a kind boy who loved stories and helped wounded animals. Now you're the Dark King who burns cities and kills without mercy!" His voice breaks. "The curse has to be broken. Even if breaking it means you die. Even if it means the girl dies too. Better that than watching you destroy the world one kingdom at a time."
Theron flinches like he's been struck.
"The curse won't break if we die," I say quickly. "The prophecy doesn't work that way—"
"We know." Seraphine's smile widens. "But Malekith doesn't need the prophecy to work properly. He just needs you both in one place, weakened and distracted." She snaps her fingers.
The purple symbol flares with blinding light.
And from the center of it, something starts to rise. Something tall and dark and ancient, with eyes like burning coals and a smile full of too many teeth.
Malekith.
The sorcerer who cursed Theron. The one who started all of this.
He steps fully into our world, and the temperature drops even further. My breath freezes in my lungs. The golden light under my skin flickers and dims like a candle in a storm.
"There you are," Malekith says, his voice like grinding stones. "The Cursed King and his little divine mate. I've waited twenty years for this moment."
Theron pushes me behind him. "If you want her, you'll have to go through me."
"Oh, I don't want to go through you." Malekith's smile grows impossibly wider. "I want to go into you."
He raises his hand, and dark magic shoots toward Theron like a spear.
Theron blocks it with a wall of ice, but the impact drives him backward. His feet slide across the frozen floor. I catch him before he falls.
"He's too strong," Theron gasps. "The curse... it's responding to him. He created it. He controls it."
I feel it too—the curse inside Theron, writhing and pulling toward its master like a dog on a leash.
"What do we do?" I whisper urgently.
"You run." Theron straightens up, gathering his power. "I'll hold him off—"
"No." I grab his arm. "We fight together. Remember? Partnership."
Our eyes meet. In that moment, I see everything—his fear for me, his guilt over the curse, his desperate hope that somehow this will end without me dying.
"Together," he agrees quietly.
We turn to face Malekith, our hands finding each other's.
The moment we touch, power explodes between us again. Gold and silver, light and ice, divine and cursed—all swirling together.
Malekith's eyes widen. "Impossible. You've merged your powers? That's not how the prophecy—"
"We're writing our own prophecy," I say, and golden light bursts from my entire body.
Theron's ice magic joins mine, and together we blast Malekith with everything we have.
The sorcerer stumbles backward, actually hurt. Black blood drips from his mouth.
"Impressive," he admits. "But futile."
He waves his hand, and the dozen soldiers around him—including Kael—draw their swords and advance on us.
"I don't want to hurt them," Theron says desperately. "They're being controlled—"
"I know." I squeeze his hand. "So we knock them out without killing them."
"Can you do that with your power?"
"I have no idea." I smile despite my fear. "Guess we're about to find out."
The soldiers charge.
And that's when the ceiling explodes.
Stone and dust rain down. Everyone scatters. Through the hole in the ceiling drops a figure cloaked in silver light.
When the light fades, I see her.
An old woman with white hair and cloudy eyes. The same woman from the dungeon. The one Seraphine said was dead.
But she's very much alive. And now she's floating three feet off the ground, surrounded by golden energy that matches mine.
"Hello, great-granddaughter," she says, looking directly at me.
My mind goes blank. "What?"
"I am Oracle Lyanna of the Lightborn bloodline." Her voice echoes with power. "And it's time you learned the truth about who you really are."
Malekith's face goes pale. "No. You're supposed to be dead. I killed you three hundred years ago—"
"You killed my body," Lyanna corrects. "But divine souls don't die so easily. I've been waiting in the spaces between life and death for my heir to awaken." She extends her hand toward me. "Come, child. Let me show you your true power."
I stare at her outstretched hand. At Theron beside me, tense and ready to fight. At Malekith, looking genuinely afraid for the first time. At Seraphine and Kael, both frozen in shock.
"If you take her hand," Malekith says quickly, "the prophecy accelerates. Your full power awakens. And if you can't control it—"
"The fortress will be destroyed," Lyanna finishes calmly. "Along with everyone in it. Possibly half the kingdom." She looks at me steadily. "But it's the only way to stop me. To stop Malekith. To save your mate and break his curse for good."
"Don't listen to her," Theron says urgently. "It's too dangerous—"
"Everything is dangerous!" I cut him off. "Staying here is dangerous! Running is dangerous! This whole situation is impossible!"
The fortress shakes again. More shadow demons are breaking through. More people are dying.
I look at Lyanna's hand. At the power crackling around her fingers.
Then I look at Theron.
"Trust me," I whisper.
Before he can respond, I reach out and take my great-grandmother's hand.
Power explodes through me like lightning.
Every nerve catches fire. My vision goes white. I hear Theron shouting my name, but it sounds like he's a million miles away.
And then I'm not in the fortress anymore.
I'm standing in a void filled with golden light. And in front of me stands a woman made of moonlight and stars.
The Moon Goddess herself.
"Hello, Cassia," she says with a smile that holds the weight of eternity. "We have much to discuss about your destiny. And the choice you're about to make that will change everything."