Chapter 9:The Breaking Point
1004 Words
The throne hall had never felt colder.
Shivana stood beside Lucien as the heavy double doors creaked open. Guards lined the walls, tense and silent. The torches flickered low, as if the fire itself feared what was coming.
Then she entered.
Lysara.
The Queen of Shadows moved like a ghost wrapped in velvet. Her gown flowed behind her like living smoke, embroidered with blood-red symbols and crowned in black thorns. Her eyes — pitch black with a sliver of violet — landed instantly on Shivana.
“So this is the girl,” she purred. “The one you threw me away for.”
Lucien stepped forward. “This isn’t about the past.”
“Everything is about the past, Lucien. Especially when it doesn’t die.” She ran a pale finger along the armrest of his throne. “I bled for you. Waited for you. And you gave your mark to her?”
Shivana met her gaze evenly. “I didn’t ask for any of this. But I won’t run from it either.”
Lysara’s smile was a slow s***h of malice. “So brave. So foolish.”
Lucien stepped between them. “If you’ve come to start a war, know this — I’ll burn down the world before I let you touch her.”
Lysara laughed, but it was brittle. “Oh no, darling. I haven’t come to fight. Not yet. I came to offer her a choice.”
Shivana’s brow furrowed. “What choice?”
“To break the bond. Walk away. Leave him to rot in this cursed castle. I can teach you what he never will. What your power really is. You were never meant to be caged in this throne room.”
Lucien’s jaw clenched. “She’s not a pawn.”
“No,” Lysara said, her eyes gleaming. “She’s a weapon.”
---
After Lysara was escorted back to the guest wing under heavy guard, Shivana stormed into Lucien’s chambers, heart racing.
“She wasn’t lying, was she?”
Lucien exhaled. “No.”
“You were engaged.”
“Yes.”
“To someone who just offered me my freedom in exchange for walking away from you.”
“I didn’t want her,” he snapped. “That match was arranged by bloodlines. I was sixteen. I ended it the moment I found out about the curse.”
“But you kept it from me.”
Lucien’s voice softened. “Because it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It does to me!” Shivana backed away, her hands trembling. “I’m tied to you by fate and fire, and every day I learn some new secret about how little I actually know you.”
“I didn’t choose this either,” he said, voice tight.
She looked up, and her voice cracked. “But you’re making me fall for someone I don’t even know.”
Silence.
The words hung there.
Lucien stepped forward slowly, as if any wrong move would shatter her.
“I didn’t think anyone could love me again,” he said. “Not after what I became. But every time I look at you, I hope for something I know I don’t deserve.”
He reached for her hand.
She let him.
And then—
BOOM.
The castle shook.
Glass shattered. The chandeliers overhead swayed dangerously.
A guard burst into the room. “Your Majesty! The Queen—she’s—she’s summoning the dead!”
---
Outside, in the northern courtyard, the storm had broken open the earth. Shadows bled through the cracks like ink, forming twisted creatures with hollow eyes and sharp claws. Wraiths. Deathwalkers.
Lysara stood at the center, wind whipping through her hair.
“I gave you a choice,” she called out into the storm. “Now I’ll give you a lesson.”
---
Lucien and Shivana raced to the battlefield.
Kael met them at the steps, sword drawn. “The castle wards are collapsing. She’s using your blood against you.”
Lucien growled. “She must’ve taken a relic when she left years ago—one tied to my father’s death.”
Shivana’s heart pounded. “What do we do?”
“You stay back,” Lucien said instantly.
“No,” she said. “You said I was more than this bond. Prove it. Let me fight.”
Before he could argue, Shivana stepped into the field.
Her hands flared with silver fire, and the creatures lunged.
She met them with fury.
The flames obeyed her now — bending, rising, striking. She moved like she’d been born for battle, not diplomacy. Each creature she burned let out a scream that echoed beyond death.
Lucien stood stunned, watching her.
“She’s not afraid,” Kael muttered beside him.
“No,” Lucien whispered. “She’s becoming.”
---
But as Shivana struck down the last of the summoned beasts, Lysara raised her arms—and the shadows converged into a massive, howling form: a shadow-wolf, fanged and furious, made of Lucien’s own cursed blood.
Shivana faltered.
The wolf lunged—
And Lucien stepped in its path.
The beast's claws slashed across his side, sending him crashing against the stones.
“Lucien!” Shivana screamed.
She ran to him, falling to her knees.
Blood stained the ground beneath him. His eyes fluttered.
“No. No, no—” She pressed her hands to the wound. Her mark burned. “Stay with me. Please.”
He smiled faintly, pain-stricken. “Don’t cry. I’ve already died once.”
“Shut up,” she sobbed, trembling. “I’m not losing you.”
Her magic pulsed out of her, wild and aching.
And the wound… began to close.
Her tears shimmered like silver flame, and Lucien’s breathing steadied.
He opened his eyes—and whispered, “You healed me.”
Shivana looked up, eyes glowing.
And behind her, Lysara staggered back.
“You... you’re more than bonded,” she hissed. “You’re fated.”
Then she vanished in a scream of black smoke.
---
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