Chapter Twenty-Three: Beneath the Ashes

Seraphina's body plummeted through the air, the shattered remains of the balcony crumbling around her. The fire below roared like a hungry beast, its tendrils reaching for her, eager to consume. The wind whipped at her hair, her cloak billowing behind her as the world spiraled into chaos.

She braced for impact, summoning every ounce of strength left in her body, but just as the heat from the flames licked at her skin—something yanked her back. A force, unseen but suffocating, wrapped around her like iron chains, halting her descent mere inches from the inferno. Suspended in midair, her breath hitched as the realization sank in.

This was not her doing.

A shadow moved above her, framed against the burning sky. The man with the golden eyes stood at the broken edge of the balcony, watching her struggle, his expression unreadable. His presence exuded control, as though this entire sequence of events had played out exactly as he had planned.

"You should be more careful, Princess," he drawled, his voice carrying over the roar of destruction. "Falling is such a... permanent mistake."

Seraphina gritted her teeth, twisting against the invisible force holding her. "Let me go!" she spat, her voice raw with frustration.

The man tilted his head slightly, as though considering her demand, before flicking his wrist. The unseen chains snapped, sending her body soaring sideways—away from the fire, away from the ruined balcony—until she crashed into the cold, stone courtyard below.

Pain exploded through her ribs, her limbs aching from the impact. Gasping for breath, she scrambled to her feet, her mind racing. The world around her was in turmoil—buildings smoldered, screams echoed in the distance, and the sky had turned a deep, unnatural shade of crimson. The rebellion she had sparked was no longer just whispers in the dark; it had become a wildfire, consuming everything in its path.

And yet—he was still watching her.

The golden-eyed stranger leapt from the ruined balcony, landing effortlessly a few feet away from her. Up close, he was even more unnerving. Shadows clung to him like a second skin, shifting and curling at his feet as though alive. His power was unlike anything she had encountered before—cold, consuming, ancient.

Seraphina's hands clenched into fists. "Who the hell are you?"

For the first time, his smirk faltered. The air around them seemed to still, and when he spoke, his voice carried a weight that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I am the one you should fear."

The shadows surged.

Before Seraphina could react, darkness collapsed around her like a tidal wave. The world blurred, twisting into something unrecognizable: cold stone, flickering torches, and the scent of damp earth. Her heart pounded as she realized she was no longer in the courtyard.

She had been taken. And she had no idea where she was.

The darkness pressed against Seraphina like a living entity, thick and suffocating. For a moment, she couldn't tell if she was even standing on solid ground—only the echo of her own breath reassured her that she was still alive. Slowly, the black void peeled away, revealing a dimly lit chamber lined with towering stone pillars. The torches along the walls flickered weakly, casting twisted shadows that danced like specters in the gloom.

She took a cautious step forward, her boots scraping against the uneven floor. The air was damp, thick with the scent of old parchment and something metallic—blood, perhaps. She glanced around, her instincts on high alert. This was not the castle. It wasn't any place she recognized.

A sudden clang shattered the silence, and she spun around just as an iron door behind her slammed shut. The golden-eyed stranger stood a few feet away, his presence as ominous as the room itself. He had transported her here in an instant, proving just how powerful he truly was.

Seraphina swallowed her rising panic, forcing her mind to work through the situation. She had to think—had to find a way out. Her magic had only just awakened, and she had yet to understand its full potential. But if she could control it, if she could manipulate it the way he did... maybe she wouldn't be at his mercy.

"You've been reckless," he finally spoke, his voice calm but laced with something far deadlier. "Starting a rebellion. Defying the king. Playing a game you don't yet understand." He stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. "Tell me, Seraphina... what exactly is it that you hope to achieve?"

She lifted her chin, refusing to show weakness. "Freedom," she said without hesitation. "Not just for me, but for everyone your king has trampled under his rule."

His expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Amusement? Or was it something else?

"You think freedom comes without a price?" he mused. "You think the throne will fall just because you wish it to?"

Seraphina exhaled sharply. He was trying to break her resolve, to make her doubt herself. But she wouldn't let him. If anything, this moment gave her clarity—she had been acting on desperation, but now she knew she needed something more than rebellion. She needed strategy.

A plan began to form in her mind. The rebellion had already begun, but it lacked organization, lacked the numbers and resources to truly overthrow the crown. If she could harness her powers, learn to wield them as a weapon rather than an accident, she could shift the tide. And perhaps… she could turn him into an advantage as well.

She met his gaze with defiance, her lips curling into the faintest smirk. "I don't just wish for it," she said. "I'm going to make it happen."

His golden eyes darkened, unreadable. "We'll see."

And with a flick of his wrist, the torches extinguished, plunging them into absolute darkness once more.