Chapter 14: Fractured Oaths

The altar trembled beneath their hands.

Runes flared again—angry, hungry.

“No,” Alvin breathed. “We already gave blood.”

Frey’s voice shook. “It’s not finished.”

The air thickened. The stone beneath them glowed brighter, humming with ancient hunger.

“He’s gone,” she whispered, glancing at the ash where Orion had stood. “But the altar still wants a soul.”

Alvin gritted his teeth. “Then it takes mine.”

He rose unsteadily, reopening the wound on his wrist, blood dripping onto the stone.

Frey grabbed his arm. “You think you can decide that for me?”

“It was supposed to be you.”

“And you took that choice.”

“I couldn’t lose you.”

She stepped in front of him. “And you think I could watch you die?”

The altar pulsed again. The runes twisted—forming ancient words in silver light.

A voice echoed, neither male nor female, low and binding:

**One must give. One must bear. One must choose.**

Alvin stared. “What does it mean?”