ELARA'S POV
The cold hit me like a physical blow.
One moment we were climbing through regular mountain air. The next, we crossed some invisible line and the temperature dropped so fast my breath turned to ice crystals.
The Mountain of Eternal Winter. Now I understood why they called it that.
"Move." The head guard shoved me forward onto a flat stone platform at the very peak. Wind howled around us, so loud I could barely hear my own thoughts.
Then I saw it.
The altar.
It was massive—easily twice as long as I was tall—made of black stone that seemed to swallow light instead of reflecting it. Strange symbols covered every inch of its surface, glowing faint blue like dying embers. The symbols moved when I wasn't looking directly at them, shifting and rearranging themselves into patterns that hurt my eyes.
This wasn't a normal altar. This was something ancient. Something powerful.
Something wrong.
"Chain her." The High Priestess Lavinia appeared from behind the altar, her robes whipping in the wind. But she didn't look cold. She looked excited, her eyes bright with something that made my skin crawl.
The guards grabbed my arms and dragged me onto the altar. The black stone was so cold it burned. They stretched my arms above my head and locked the barbed chains into metal rings I hadn't noticed before.
The chains clicked into place with a sound like a lock turning.
And suddenly, I couldn't move at all.
It wasn't just the chains. The altar itself was holding me down, pressing against my back with invisible weight. Magic. This altar was soaked in magic so old and dark it made my healing power shrivel up inside me.
"Perfect," Lavinia breathed. She walked around the altar, studying me like I was an interesting insect. "The positioning is exactly right. The bloodline is correct. The timing..." She glanced at the setting sun. "Oh yes, the timing is perfect."
"What are you talking about?" My voice came out hoarse from thirst and screaming yesterday. "What bloodline?"
Lavinia smiled. It wasn't a kind smile.
"Did you never wonder why your healing magic was so much stronger than everyone else's? Why you could save people that other healers declared hopeless?" She leaned closer. "Your mother wasn't just some minor noble, girl. She carried ancient blood in her veins. Divine blood, from the time when gods and mortals walked together."
My heart stopped. "That's impossible."
"Is it?" Lavinia traced one of the glowing symbols on the altar. "Your mother died giving birth to you because she poured all her divine essence into keeping you alive. She burned herself out completely. And your fool of a father never told you, never trained you, never let you understand what you truly are."
Divine blood. In me.
"That's why you framed me," I whispered, understanding crashing over me. "The plague, the false evidence, the sacrifice—you needed someone with divine blood on this altar."
"Very clever." Lavinia clapped her hands slowly. "The Death God has been imprisoned here for three thousand years, his power slowly drained to fuel human magic. But the ritual that bound him had a weakness—it could be broken by willing divine blood spilled on this altar at sunset during a blood moon." She gestured at the darkening sky where the moon was rising, already tinged red. "Normally that would be impossible to arrange. Who would willingly spill divine blood? But a sacrifice?" She laughed. "A sacrifice makes it so much easier."
Horror flooded through me. "You're going to kill me to free him."
"Oh no, child. I'm going to kill you to bind him to me. With the right ritual, your divine blood will break his chains and forge new ones—with me as his master. Imagine it! The Death God himself, controlled by the High Priestess. I'll have enough power to rule kingdoms. To make emperors kneel."
She was insane. Completely insane.
"The gods won't allow this," I said desperately.
"The gods?" Lavinia laughed harder. "The gods locked Morven away because they feared him. They won't stop me from controlling what they couldn't destroy. They'll probably thank me for keeping him leashed."
She pulled out a ceremonial knife, the blade engraved with more of those shifting symbols.
"Wait!" I thrashed against the chains, but they only dug deeper. Blood welled up from the barb wounds. "Please! I'll do anything!"
"You already are." Lavinia raised the knife. "Don't worry. In a way, you'll live forever—as the power source that fuels my control over a god. Isn't that poetic?"
The sun touched the horizon. The blood moon rose higher. The altar's symbols glowed brighter, pulsing in rhythm with my racing heartbeat.
This was it. This was how I died—not as a monster or a criminal, but as a sacrifice in a mad woman's quest for power.
But I wasn't scared anymore.
I was furious.
"You want my divine blood?" I spat at Lavinia. "You want to use me as a tool? Fine. But I'm not going to beg. I'm not going to cry. And I'm not going to make this easy for you."
Lavinia's smile faltered. "What?"
"If there are gods listening," I said louder, my voice carrying over the howling wind, "I'm not asking for mercy. I don't want to be saved." My blood dripped from my wrists onto the altar, and where it touched, the symbols blazed. "I'm asking for justice. I'm asking for revenge. I'm asking for the power to make everyone who hurt me pay."
"Shut up!" Lavinia raised the knife higher. "You don't get to make demands!"
"Morven!" I screamed to the darkening sky. "Death God! If you can hear me, I don't care if you're a monster! I don't care if you destroy everything! Just let me live long enough to watch them burn!"
"No—" Lavinia lunged with the knife.
My blood hit the altar's central symbol.
And the mountain exploded.
Not with fire or rocks—with power. Pure, ancient, divine power that sent Lavinia flying backward. The guards ran, screaming. The altar beneath me cracked, light bleeding through the fractures like liquid gold.
The temperature dropped even further. The blood moon turned black. And the air itself seemed to tear.
Through the rip in reality, I saw eyes.
Silver eyes, burning with rage that had waited three thousand years for release.
A voice spoke—not in my ears, but directly in my mind. It was beautiful and terrifying, like thunder and silk mixed together:
"Finally. Someone interesting."
The world turned white.
And then he was there.