Seraphine’s Plan Deepens
In the shadowy depths of Eira’s fortress, the air was thick with tension as Seraphine gathered Lyra and Eryon around the pulsing artifact. Its jagged edges shimmered with a faint crimson glow, casting fractured patterns across the stone walls and their faces. Seraphine stood tall, her expression serene, yet her silver eyes burned with a fierce determination that seemed to pierce through the dim light.
“It’s time,” she said softly, her voice steady but edged with urgency. “We can’t wait any longer.”
Eryon leaned forward, his wolf instincts prickling at the subtle undertone of command in her voice. “What’s the plan?” he asked, his amber eyes sharp with anticipation.
Seraphine’s fingers traced the artifact’s uneven surface, the crimson light illuminating her delicate features. “We use this,” she began, her tone resolute, “to destroy them. Isla and Draven stole you from me. They betrayed our family, left us vulnerable, and kept you weak. It’s time to strike back.”
Lyra’s chest tightened at the mention of Isla and Draven. Memories of Isla’s warm embrace and Draven’s unwavering protection flooded her mind, clashing violently with Seraphine’s cold accusations. “What if they’re not the enemies you think they are?” Lyra asked cautiously, her voice trembling.
Seraphine’s eyes darkened, her gaze locking onto Lyra’s with an intensity that made her breath catch. “You think I’d lie about this?” she asked, her tone soft but sharp as a blade. “About what they’ve done to us?” She reached out, placing a hand on Lyra’s shoulder, her grip firm and grounding. “I love you, Lyra. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.”
Eryon’s jaw clenched as he stepped closer to the artifact, his resolve hardening. “They deserve whatever’s coming to them,” he growled. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Lyra’s stomach churned with unease, the artifact’s whispers a faint hum in the back of her mind. Doubt twisted through her, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Seraphine’s voice had a way of drowning out resistance, her unwavering conviction a powerful force that even Lyra struggled to oppose.
Seraphine stepped back, lifting the artifact toward the faint shafts of light filtering through the chamber’s high windows. The glow intensified, bathing the room in a sinister crimson hue.
“This is our weapon,” Seraphine declared, her voice resonating with power. “With it, we’ll bring them to their knees. No one will ever take from us again.”
Eryon’s confidence was palpable, his loyalty to Seraphine unwavering as he nodded in agreement. But Lyra’s mind swirled with uncertainty. The memories of Isla and Draven’s care gnawed at her resolve, contrasting starkly with Seraphine’s narrative of betrayal. Could she truly trust Seraphine’s version of the past, or was she being swept into a vendetta fueled by obsession?
Seraphine lowered the artifact, her silver eyes gleaming with unrelenting focus. She reached out to Lyra and Eryon, her voice softening into something almost tender. “Trust me, my loves,” she said, her words a lullaby laced with steel. “Together, we’ll be unstoppable.”
Lyra hesitated, her hand hovering just shy of Seraphine’s. The crimson light reflected in her silver eyes as she glanced at Eryon, who took Seraphine’s hand without hesitation. The artifact pulsed again, the whispers growing louder, filling her mind with promises of power and revenge.
Her wolf growled low in her chest, torn between loyalty to family and an instinctual warning that the path Seraphine led them down was steeped in darkness. Lyra swallowed hard, knowing that whatever choice she made, there would be no turning back.
