CHAPTER FOURTEEN
551 Words
The word sleeping should have brought relief.
It didn’t.
It settled in the space between them like a prophecy—one that had already been written long before she was born. Marcus exchanged a glance with Dorian, but neither spoke. The silence of the stronghold choked them all—heavy, absolute, as though the walls themselves were listening.
Seraphina stepped back from the portrait. The air trembled.
The pendant beneath her cloak gave a single pulse.
A call.
A reminder.
He is not dead.
No…
He is waiting.
Without speaking, she turned and walked deeper into the corridor, past the fading portraits and the crumbling walls. Her boots made no sound—not echo, not even breath. The castle had ceased being a structure.
It was a living thing.
And she was walking through its veins.
They came upon a set of ancient doors—black stone, carved with moon symbols intertwined with spirals and serpents. In the center was the same crescent-and-blood emblem as her pendant.
Dorian stepped forward first and pushed.
Nothing.
Marcus tried next.
The door did not budge—not even a tremor.
But when Seraphina placed her hand against it, the pendant against her sternum glowed through her cloak.
A soft hum filled the air.
Then—
THOOM.
The doors opened.
By themselves.
Marcus swore under his breath. “That’s blood magic.”
Seraphina didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her throat felt tight—as if invisible fingers had wrapped around it.
The chamber beyond was vast.
And silent.
Torches along the walls sprang to life, one by one, casting golden light across stone and shadow.
At the center of the room, there was no throne.
No altar.
Only a single stone sarcophagus.
Long.
Silent.
Untouched by time.
Seraphina stepped forward.
She didn’t want to.
Every instinct screamed to turn back—to leave whatever ancient force lay beneath stone and spell.
But something stronger than fear pulled her onward.
The closer she got, the stronger the pendant’s pulse became—until it beat furiously, syncing perfectly with the rhythm of the castle itself.
Marcus grabbed her arm. “Seraphina. Stop.”
She looked at him.
Her voice came out quiet. Certain.
“I’ve been here before.”
Marcus went still.
Dorian stepped back. Cold sweat trickled down his temple.
“You couldn’t have,” he said, but his voice held no conviction.
Seraphina stepped even closer—so close she could feel the cold radiating from the stone. She reached forward, fingertips hovering above the lid.
The pendant blazed hot against her skin.
And the moment her skin touched the sarcophagus—
the entire room exhaled.
A low, ancient rumble shuddered through the ground. Dust fell from the ceiling. The silver veins in the stone walls flashed once, bright as lightning.
Then—
From beneath the stone—
She felt it.
A heartbeat.
Not steady.
Not human.
A single pulse.
As if something beneath the stone had just woken up.
Seraphina’s breath caught. Her eyes widened.
Marcus stepped back, hand flying to his sword.
Dorian whispered, horrified, “What did you just do?”
The heartbeat pulsed again.
Stronger.
BOOM.
It echoed through the entire stronghold.
Through the floor.
Through their bones.
Through her blood.
Seraphina whispered, barely audible—
“He knows I’m here.”
- Writer
