The fortress stood in eerie silence after the Revenants’ second assault. Smoke curled through shattered arches, and ash coated the mosaic floors once bathed in golden light.
Elizabeth lay in the infirmary, her body still glowing faintly, her breathing shallow. Though the curse had been partially purged, the remnants coiled around her soul like a patient serpent, waiting.
Lucian watched over her, unblinking.
“Where’s the cure?” he growled to the court healer, an ancient wolfess named Meridia.
“There isn’t one not in our world,” she replied. “The curse is ancient magic, tied to blood and betrayal. It must be undone at its root.”
Reeve stepped forward. “You mean… her bloodline?”
Meridia nodded. “We must understand who Elizabeth truly is. Not just who she was born to but who she descends
