Betti_Lorenzo

The Unbound

Gothic Romance • Spiritual Rebellion • Fantasy Drama

Elena Rosaria was born a witch in chains—branded by the Church, betrayed by her own blood, and forced to survive in the shadows of an empire that hunts her kind. But when her life collides with Viscount Seamus Matteo—a brooding heir with a taste for danger and a heart drawn to her fire—their connection sparks a forbidden passion that defies the Church’s rule.

As war brews between the old faith and a rising resistance, Elena must reckon with a violent past, prophetic visions, and the price of power. Seamus would burn the world to protect her. But it is Niegal Matteo—his exiled uncle and a gifted healer—who may hold the key to not only Elena’s survival, but the fate of magic itself.

In a land of holy inquisitions, blood-bound magic, and saints who are not what they seem, three haunted souls must choose: surrender to the roles they were born into… or become something unbound.

THE UNBOUND

People gather around the inner sanctum of the Red Chapel, amazed at the site before them.

Elena collapsed into a wooden chair someone had hastily brought her, hand pressing gently to her pelvis.

The journey had worn her thin. She'd grown rounder, heavier, yet more gaunt in the face. But there had been no time to rest. The pendant, chest sigil, bone anklet helped her keep her energy up, but now that she could rest her fatigue hit hard.

Regardless, they made it. Together. Alive.

Niegal knelt before her, one hand in hers, the other brushing loose curls from her forehead. They both breathed hard, but they smiled. They smiled like people who had survived storms together.

The crowd was thick around them, rebels pressing in for a glimpse, whispering amongst themselves.

"Look at La Doña's skin… is that mother of pearl in her scars?

"Our Lady of the Storms has returned."

"Look at how pregnant Doña Guabancex is!"

Her hand flew to the spot, her body relaxing for the first time in weeks.

Aurora and Phineus, stepping through the crowd.

They ran. All four of them; Elena, Niegal, Aurora, Phineus, collided in the center of the Red Chapel, arms wrapping tight around each other. Even proud Phineus, even stoic Niegal- they cried. Messy, unabashed sobs.

In the shadows behind the crowd, Alejandro Roberto watched in silence.

A strange, soft smile spread on his lips.

"Doña Guabancex and her consort, El Léon Negro…" eyes narrowed as he turned to leave. Interesting.

Chapter 90: Rebel Homecoming, Divine Love