The Rose and the Ruin

Chapter 7: The Rose and the Ruin

The rose lay at the foot of the tree, petals curled like the last whispers of a dying breath.

Dorian stood still. The air in the garden was colder than usual, as if it, too, sensed her absence. The birds didn't sing. The wind held its tongue.

He picked up the rose gently, like cradling a memory, and found a smear of red not from the flower—but from blood.

His pulse quickened.

Evelyn was gone.

Not vanished, not fled—but taken.

"You cannot erase a shadow by casting another."

Her words rang in his mind like a final bell.

He fell to his knees.

For the first time in years, Dorian wept—not for vengeance, but for her. The one who had stitched pieces of his soul together, only for him to rip them apart again with his need for retribution.

His enemies had learned he cared for someone.

And they used her.

Meanwhile, Evelyn…

She was held captive in the ruins of Blackthorn Abbey, far beyond the city's reach. An order of zealots who believed Dorian was an omen—born from fire and vengeance, destined to bring chaos. Evelyn had stumbled too close to the truth of his past, and now she was their leverage.

But she wasn't weak.

Her faith in Dorian burned even in the cold stone chamber. She remembered the boy behind the mask, the way he shook the first time he held her hand. That boy was still in there, fighting his demons in silence.

And he would come for her.

Not as a devil.

But as her Dorian.

Back in Valemire…

Dorian turned the rose over and found a sliver of parchment beneath its stem, hidden by Evelyn.

"Don't lose the light in you. I still see it."

He clutched the note to his chest.

This wasn't over.

He had burned cities, toppled kings, and silenced traitors.

But now he would walk into the very mouth of hell—not for vengeance, but for love.

And this time…

He would not lose the one soul who saw him as more than a shadow.