(READER DISCRETION ADVISED: The following content may contain mature themes, graphic violence, or disturbing subject matter. Reader discretion is advised.)
Axel and Heather entered the grand hall of the palace, their steps cautious at first, but as the sound of screams echoed through the corridors, they broke into a run. Axel's heart pounded in his chest, dread settling deep in his gut. Something was terribly wrong. He glanced at Heather, who looked just as alarmed, her face pale beneath the elaborate makeup she had worn to the wedding.
The moment they burst into the hall, the sight before them froze them in their tracks. Lila stood at the center, her wedding gown stained with blood, the glint of a knife still visible in her hand. Her eyes were wild, cold, and filled with something Axel could barely comprehend. There was a chilling aura around her, as if she had transformed into something beyond human—a figure of both wrath and triumph.
Axel's breath hitched. This was not the Lila he remembered. She looked almost…demonic. Her once gentle features were now twisted in dark satisfaction, her eyes gleaming with the aftermath of violence. Blood from Mateo's chest pooled around her feet, the life draining from him as he lay motionless on the floor. Mateo, once the powerful prince of Azro, was now nothing but a bloodied mess at her feet. Axel could hardly believe his eyes.
Beside him, Heather stood wide-eyed, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "What… what has she done?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the frantic screams that filled the air. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene.
But just as Axel was about to step forward, his attention was pulled by a figure emerging from the shadows near the far end of the hall. The sight made Heather gasp. Her shock intensified as recognition struck her like a physical blow.
A tall man, with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, strode forward with lethal precision. His features were eerily familiar, a mirror of Mateo's—but with a more refined, more dangerous edge. The man's cold expression made it clear he had no good intentions.
Heather's face went white as she realized who he was. It was the man she had bought from the black market all those years ago—the father of her first child, the man who should have never returned. Kairos.
"No..." Heather whispered, her voice trembling with terror. She took a step back, but it was too late. The man, Kairos, was already upon her, his gaze filled with contempt and fury. In one swift motion, he drew his sword, the blade gleaming in the dim light of the hall.
Axel barely had time to react before Kairos lunged forward, his sword aimed directly at Heather's chest.
Thwack.
The blade pierced through her, the impact so fast and violent that her body jerked backward. Blood blossomed from the wound, staining her elegant gown as her eyes widened in shock and pain.
Kairos twisted the sword deeper into Heather's chest, his voice low and filled with a deadly calm. "You drugged me, used my body, manipulated me, took everything I had… This is the price you'll pay."
Heather's face was contorted in agony, her breaths ragged and shallow. Blood spilled freely from her wound, but even in her final moments, she tried to maintain her composure. She gasped for air, her eyes widening with a mix of fear and regret.
"Where is my child?" Kairos demanded, his voice colder than ever. The question hung in the air, filled with anger, frustration, and years of pent-up vengeance. His blue eyes bore into Heather, daring her to lie.
Heather struggled to speak, the weight of the blade pushing deeper into her chest. Her lips trembled, and a flicker of something—perhaps regret, or maybe defiance—crossed her face. "He's… gone," she whispered, her voice broken and faint, barely audible. "You'll never… find him."
Kairos' eyes narrowed, rage flickering across his features, but he didn't pull back the sword. Instead, he seemed almost satisfied, as if the confirmation of his lost child only cemented his resolve to end her life. "Gone? You would lie to me even as you die?" His voice was filled with venom, his grip tightening on the hilt of the sword.
Heather coughed weakly, blood spilling from her lips. She looked up at him with desperation, her once calculating and manipulative gaze now filled with fear. "It's… the truth," she gasped. "He's gone… he's dead."
Axel stood silently nearby, his eyes cold and distant, watching the scene unfold without a hint of sympathy for Heather. Whatever bond they had, if it ever existed, was long severed. Axel's only concern now was the chaos before him—Lila's shocking transformation, the downfall of the Azro Empire, and the blood that stained every corner of the hall. Heather's death, at the hands of Kairos, felt almost like a side note.
She had never truly mattered to him. Her lies, her betrayals, her use of both him and his brother Theo—all of it had turned Axel's heart cold toward her long ago. He had come here to face Mateo, to play his part, and now he was watching the consequences of years of deception unfold before him. The woman who had manipulated and destroyed so many lives was finally getting her due, and Axel felt no need to intervene.
Heather's body shook as she tried to speak one last time, her eyes glassy with death. But Kairos wasn't interested in hearing her final words. With one last twist of his blade, he yanked it free from her chest, her body collapsing in a lifeless heap on the marble floor.
Kairos stood over Heather's lifeless body, his chest heaving with anger and disbelief. His hand still gripped the bloodied sword, but his eyes were distant, lost in the storm of emotions raging inside him. "My child..." he muttered, his voice low, strained, and trembling with fury. He stepped back, staring down at Heather as if the reality of her words hadn't fully sunk in.
Axel stood silently, observing the scene. He could see the fire in Kairos' eyes—the kind of fire that burned from losing something irreplaceable. Kairos' fury was palpable, thickening the air around them.
Kairos snapped his gaze up toward Axel, his blue eyes blazing with grief and fury. "She said he's gone. Is it true? My child… dead because of her?" His voice grew louder, more frantic with each word.
Axel met Kairos' gaze with the calmness of a man who had seen too much and felt too little. "Heather lied to everyone," Axel said coldly. "She used people for her own gain. If she told you the child is gone… there's little reason to doubt it."
Kairos' grip tightened around his sword as he took a sharp breath, his emotions teetering between devastation and rage.
He turned back to Heather's lifeless body, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "I should have ended her sooner."
Axel, unaffected by the scene unfolding before him, glanced toward the hall where the wedding had just been transformed into a bloodbath. He remained calm, unreadable, his thoughts hidden behind a stoic expression. Heather was gone, and Mateo, the architect of so much destruction, was dying. All that mattered now was moving forward—and preparing for the fight that would come next.