THE SECRETS UNVEILED

The next day, Velma knew that by this time tomorrow, she would be out of this underworld without Daniel. The decision weighed heavily on her chest. Every moment she spent within these dark walls reminded her of how far from home she had strayed. They had said the king was not feeling fine, so she didn't go to deliver tea to his chamber today. That alone made her chest constrict in worry. She sat in the room, her hands clasped together as her mind ran wild. What could be done? Was there still a chance to save Daniel? Was he even still Daniel beneath Azarel's cold, powerful shell?

The day passed slowly. The candle in the corner burned low, its flame dancing lazily. Evelyn was on assignment, doing errands elsewhere in the palace. Velma was alone. The night came quickly, too quickly. Silence blanketed the underworld. Even the whispers of torches outside the door sounded subdued.

Feeling restless, she decided to take a stroll around the garden—one last walk through the place that had become her cage. She wrapped her robe around herself and stepped into the dim corridor, her slippers brushing silently against the floor. The air was colder than usual. She passed a few guards, gave a curt nod, and kept walking.

She was nearing the outer passage to the garden when suddenly, strong arms pulled her into the shadows. She gasped, struggling, but a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Quiet," came a familiar voice. Velma looked up.

It was Azarath.

Before she could react, Azarath dragged her swiftly through a backdoor and into a dark room. She stumbled inside, heart pounding, and then saw another figure in the corner.

Zamiel.

The door slammed shut behind her.

"So you are a mistress," Zamiel said mockingly, stepping forward with a smirk playing on his lips.

She scoffed, standing her ground despite the trembling in her legs.

"You know our little secret now," Azarath whispered menacingly. "So do you think we would let you stay alive?"

Velma clenched her fists. "I told you I won't tell the king anything. Let's not make rash decisions," she said, trying to keep her voice strong and steady.

Zamiel circled her like a predator. "Your scent… it's unusual. Hold still. Let me figure it out."

"No," Velma said, stepping back, but Zamiel gripped her wrist tightly, pulling her toward him.

He inhaled deeply near her neck. Then his eyes flashed.

Azarath's mouth parted in shock. Recognition dawned in her expression like the slow rising of the moon.

"You…" Azarath said slowly, her voice trembling with stunned disbelief. "You're human... Not just any human."

Zamiel's expression darkened. "She's Velma. Daniel's wife from the human world."

Velma stared them down, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Well, well," Azarath whispered, circling her now. "Look who we have here."

"Now that you know who I am," Velma said through clenched teeth, "you can tell me why you're doing all this. You don't even love him. Why bring him back here? Why trap him in this world?"

Azarath laughed, a cold, bitter sound. "You really want to know? I want power. I want the throne for Zamiel. But to have that, I need Azarel. I need the king. As long as he's here, I can control the pieces on the board. My marriage is just a part of the plan."

She walked to a table, picked up a small glowing crystal, and rolled it between her fingers.

"If I get Azarel to ascend to the highest level of power, he'll be forced to share it. And once I bind him in the Ascension Ritual… I'll strip him of it. That's the end game."

Velma's breath caught. "You're going to betray him?"

"Of course," Azarath said flatly. "He was never supposed to fall in love with you. He was never supposed to forget. And yet he did. And now you've come here and ruined everything."

"I didn't ruin anything," Velma snapped. "He's still in there somewhere. Daniel is still there."

Azarath's face twisted. "Don't say that name."

Velma opened her mouth to respond when suddenly, Zamiel stepped in front of her, dark intent in his eyes.

"Now that you know everything, we can't keep you alive," he said.

He raised his hand, preparing to strike. Velma braced herself, her eyes squeezed shut.

But then…

Zamiel's hand froze mid-air. A flash of light pulsed from her chest.

He staggered back.

"What… what is this?" he growled.

Azarath shielded her eyes. "It's… it's a protective spell."

Zamiel glared. "Someone placed it on her. That traitor Lucian…"

Velma's eyes shot open.

It must have been Lucian. He had protected her.

"Don't worry," Azarath hissed. "It will wear off in about twenty hours. Until then, she's going nowhere."

Zamiel muttered an incantation, and chains rose from the floor, binding Velma's arms and ankles. They locked tightly into place with a hollow clank.

"We'll keep her here," Azarath said coldly. "And when the spell fades, we'll finish what we started."

They turned and left, the door slamming behind them.

The room went dark.

Velma was left alone, bound and trembling. The chains were tight. She tried to wriggle free, but they held strong.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

How was she going to reach Lucian now?

She sat in the cold silence, the protective light still faintly glowing around her chest. It gave her warmth… and hope.

But twenty hours wasn't long.

She had to think. She had to plan. She had to survive.

No matter what it took.