Chapter 9 – The Chains That Bind

The Chains That Bind

The safehouse was eerily quiet, the only sound the occasional crackle of the dying fire. Eleanor sat near the wooden table, staring at her trembling hands. The events of the past night played over in her mind—Victor's betrayal, Lucian's grip tightening around them all, and her own name in that cursed ledger.

Across the room, Maria leaned against the wall, arms crossed. She had been watching Eleanor for the past hour, waiting for her to speak. When the silence stretched too long, she finally broke it.

"We don't have much time."

Eleanor blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. "Time for what?"

Maria's expression was unreadable. "To get Victor back."

The words hit Eleanor like a slap. Her first instinct was to say, He made his choice. But she couldn't. She had seen the look in Victor's eyes—he hadn't wanted this. He had warned her to run.

"You think he can be saved?" Eleanor asked, her voice uncertain.

Maria's jaw tightened. "I think he must be."

Eleanor hesitated. "Lucian's mark… It's not something that can just be erased."

Maria pushed away from the wall and walked over, pulling out a folded piece of parchment from her cloak. "No, but I've seen something like it before. And if I'm right, then there's still a way to break his hold."

Eleanor's pulse quickened as she took the parchment. It was old, the ink faded, but the symbols etched into it were unmistakable—the same crescent mark that Lucian branded onto his victims.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, glancing up at Maria.

"The old archives beneath the cathedral," Maria answered. "This isn't the first time a devil like Lucian has walked among us."

Eleanor swallowed hard. She had always known Lucian wasn't human, but this… this confirmed that his kind had haunted the world for centuries.

"And what does it say?" Eleanor asked.

Maria hesitated. "The mark binds a soul to him, but it also binds him to them. That means if we can sever that connection—"

"He loses control," Eleanor finished.

Maria nodded. "Exactly. But it won't be easy. The ritual requires—" She stopped herself, frowning.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes. "Requires what?"

Maria exhaled. "A sacrifice."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Eleanor clenched her fists. "Of course it does."

Lucian never gave anything for free. Even breaking his control came at a cost.

"What kind of sacrifice?" Eleanor asked carefully.

Maria didn't answer right away. Then, in a quiet voice, she said, "Blood. From the one trying to break the bond."

Eleanor's stomach twisted. She had expected something terrible, but the reality of it settled like a stone in her chest.

"If that's what it takes," she said, steeling herself.

Maria studied her carefully. "You're willing to bleed for him? After everything?"

Eleanor's mind flashed back to Victor's warning—the pain in his voice when he told her to run.

"He's still my friend," she said simply.

Maria gave a short nod. "Then we move before sunrise."

The Cathedral Ruins

The old cathedral stood on the outskirts of Black Hollow, its once-grand walls now crumbling under the weight of time. The stained-glass windows had shattered long ago, leaving behind jagged edges that cast eerie patterns in the moonlight.

Eleanor and Maria moved carefully through the ruins, their breath visible in the cold night air.

"He'll be here," Maria whispered.

Eleanor's fingers brushed against the dagger hidden at her side. If this went wrong, if Lucian realized what they were trying to do… they might not walk away from this.

A low wind rustled through the broken stone pillars. Then—footsteps.

Eleanor's body tensed.

Victor stepped into view, his dark cloak billowing behind him. His expression was unreadable, but his wrist—the mark—glowed faintly in the darkness.

"Victor," Eleanor called out cautiously.

His gaze met hers, and for a brief moment, she saw something flicker behind his eyes—recognition, pain… regret.

Then, Lucian stepped out of the shadows.

Eleanor's blood turned to ice.

His golden eyes gleamed with amusement, his lips curling into a smirk. "How touching. You came back for him."

Eleanor swallowed hard. "Let him go."

Lucian chuckled. "You say that as if he's your prisoner, not mine." He glanced at Victor. "Tell her, won't you?"

Victor's jaw tightened. "I made my choice."

Eleanor's breath hitched. She could hear the lie in his voice.

Lucian smiled. "See? He's exactly where he belongs."

Maria stepped forward, voice sharp. "And yet, you're here. If you truly owned him, you wouldn't need to keep him on a leash."

Lucian's expression darkened. "Careful, Maria. I might take that personally."

Eleanor took a slow breath. Focus.

Her fingers tightened around the small dagger at her side—the blade Maria had given her for the ritual.

Lucian turned back to Eleanor, his voice silky. "You don't have to fight me, you know. You could join me. You'd be unstoppable."

Eleanor lifted her chin. "I'd rather die."

Lucian sighed. "Such dramatics."

Then—he moved.

Too fast.

Eleanor barely had time to react before he was in front of her, gripping her wrist. His touch burned.

"You think you can take him from me?" he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

Eleanor's heart pounded. She met his gaze—and drove the dagger into her palm.

The pain was immediate, searing. Her blood dripped onto the ground—onto the broken sigil carved into the cathedral floor.

Lucian's eyes widened in realization.

Maria whispered the words of the ancient ritual, her voice steady.

Victor staggered back, gripping his wrist as the mark on his skin began to flicker—fighting against Lucian's hold.

Lucian growled. "You little—"

Eleanor twisted free, stumbling back. The sigil flared to life, glowing with the light of her sacrifice.

Victor let out a strangled gasp. The glow on his wrist dimmed, then vanished.

Lucian's entire body tensed. His jaw clenched, his golden eyes blazing with fury.

"You have no idea what you've just done," he snarled.

Victor collapsed to his knees, panting. His mark was gone.

Eleanor swayed, dizziness crashing over her. She had done it. She had broken Lucian's hold.

Maria grabbed Eleanor's arm, steadying her. "We need to leave. Now."

Lucian didn't move to stop them. Not yet. But his expression—dark and unreadable—made one thing clear.

This wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

To be continued…