THE CRIMSON VEIL

Secret in the painting!

CHAPTER 4

Elara's POV

I don't know how long I sat on that floor.

Minutes. Hours. Time stopped meaning anything.

My hands hurt from pounding. My throat was raw from screaming. My eyes burned from refusing to cry.

Eventually, I heard footsteps in the hallway outside.

I scrambled to my feet, backing away from the door.

The lock clicked. The door opened.

Lucien stood in the doorway, still wearing that expensive suit, still looking perfectly composed while I was falling apart.

"Get away from me," I said, my voice hoarse.

He didn't move closer. Just stood there, watching me with those cold gray eyes.

"I understand you're frightened," he said.

"Frightened?" I let out a laugh that sounded broken even to my own ears.

"You kidn*pped me. You locked me in a room. Frightened doesn't even begin to cover it."

"You're not a prisoner, Elara."

"Really? Then unlock this door and let me leave."

"I can't do that."

"Then I'm a prisoner."

Lucien's jaw tightened slightly. The first c***k in his perfect composure.

"You're valuable," he said.

"Too valuable to be left unprotected. The Crimson Veil has enemies. People who would kill you to prevent the ritual from happening. If I let you leave, you'd be dead within a week."

"I don't believe you. I don't believe any of this."

"I know. That's why I'm going to show you."

Something in his voice made my skin prickle.

"Show me what?"

"Proof. That everything I've told you is real."

He turned and walked back into the hallway, leaving the door open.

I stayed where I was, pressed against the far wall.

He looked back.

"Are you coming?"

"Where?"

"Somewhere that will answer your questions. You can come willingly or I can have the guards carry you again. Your choice."

The memory of being held, of struggling uselessly while they carried me through the halls, made my stomach turn.

I walked toward the door on shaking legs.

Lucien waited until I was in the hallway, then started walking. Two guards came from somewhere behind me, blocking any escape route.

I followed Lucien through the mansion. Different hallways this time. Down a staircase I hadn't seen before.

We went down. And down. And down.

The air grew colder. The walls changed from elegant paneling to rough stone. The lighting became dimmer, just torches mounted in brackets on the walls.

This wasn't part of the house anymore. This was something older. Something built underneath.

Finally, we reached a heavy iron door.

Lucien pulled out a key and unlocked it.

The door swung open with a groan that echoed down the corridor.

Beyond it was a large chamber carved from rock.

I stepped inside and felt my breath leave my body.

The chamber was circular, maybe forty feet across. The walls were covered in symbols. Carved directly into the stone. Symbols I didn't recognize but that made something deep in my chest twist with unease.

In the center of the room sat an altar. Stone. Old. Stained dark with something that could only be blood.

And standing around the altar, silent and still, were thirteen figures in dark robes.

Their faces were hidden by hoods. Their hands were clasped in front of them.

They didn't move when we entered. Didn't acknowledge us at all.

"What is this?" I whispered.

"This is the ritual chamber," Lucien said. His voice echoed off the stone walls.

"The Crimson Veil has maintained it for over a thousand years."

One of the robed figures moved. Pulled back their hood.

It was the severe woman who'd escorted me earlier. She looked at me with those cold eyes, then bowed her head to Lucien.

"High Patron," she said.

High Patron. The title sent ice down my spine.

"You wanted proof," Lucien said, turning to face me.

"I'm going to give it to you."

He walked to the altar and placed his hands flat on the bloodstained surface.

The robed figures began to chant. Low and rhythmic. Words I didn't understand in a language that sounded ancient.

The symbols on the walls started to glow. Faint at first, then brighter.

I took a step back.

"What are you doing?"

Lucien didn't answer. He closed his eyes and continued whatever he was doing.

The chanting grew louder.

The air in the chamber changed. Became heavier. Charged. Like right before a thunderstorm.

Then Lucien's eyes opened.

They weren't gray anymore.

They were silver. Bright, glowing silver like liquid metal.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

He raised one hand.

The candles around the altar burst into flame. All at once. No one had lit them. They just ignited, flames shooting up several feet high.

I pressed my back against the wall, my breath coming in short gasps.

Lucien raised his other hand.

Objects around the room began to lift. Chalices. Books. A ceremonial knife. They rose into the air and hung there, suspended by nothing, rotating slowly.

This wasn't possible. This wasn't real.

But I was watching it happen.

The chanting reached a crescendo. The symbols on the walls blazed brighter. The floating objects spun faster.

Then Lucien lowered his hands.

Everything stopped.

The objects dropped back to their places. The flames on the candles shrank to normal size. The glowing symbols faded to darkness.

Lucien's eyes returned to their normal gray.

The chamber fell silent except for my ragged breathing.

The robed figures stood motionless, like none of this was unusual, like they saw it every day.

Lucien turned to face me. He looked completely calm. Not tired. Not strained. Like performing impossible magic was as easy as breathing.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked.

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Couldn't process what I'd just witnessed.

"The Crimson Veil is real," Lucien said, walking toward me slowly.

"The prophecy is real. The ritual is real.”

He stopped a few feet away.

"And you, Elara Voss, are the Vessel. The woman chosen by fate to complete the most powerful ritual in our order's history.”