Theo cradled Elena in his arms, her skin pale and clammy, her lips tinged blue. Her heartbeat was a fragile flutter, so faint it sent a chill through him. She had trusted him—risked her life to save him—and he had nearly repaid her with death. Guilt, shame, and frustration coursed through his veins like poison, coiling in his chest. The wounds on his body were already beginning to heal, his strength returning, but it did nothing to ease the pain in his heart.


    He closed his eyes and sighed, forcing the self-loathing to the back of his mind. There would be time for that later. Right now, he needed to get her somewhere safe. Celeste might be gone, but she wouldn’t stay gone for long, and Lucian would send others. That much was certain.


    Theo lingered a moment longer, gazing down at Elena’s unconscious form. Her chestnut brown hair spilled across her face, partly covering her delicate features. Celeste had told her everything—about his family, about their deaths. And yet, Elena had still chosen to save him. She had taken the risk, foolish as that decision had been. It was a level of trust and kindness he did not deserve.


    Gritting his teeth, he wiped her blood from his chin and stood. His eyes swept the hilltop, searching for her bag. Shifting Elena’s weight, he gently lifted her over his shoulder, her small frame light against him. He spotted Elena’s bag just a few feet away, the artifact partially exposed. Theo bent down to pick it up but immediately dropped it, hissing in pain as his hand burned where it had touched the surface, the ancient symbols glowing softly.


    “What the…” he muttered, crouching down to study the object. The artifact looked the same, except for that eerie glow.


    This was strange. He had held the artifact before, but it had never done this.


    He stood.


    As concerning as the artifact’s reaction was, now wasn’t the time to deal with it. He nudged it back into the bag with his foot, careful not to touch it again, and slung the bag over his shoulder.


    Elena needed rest—needed to regain her strength. There was only one place he could think of where Lucian wouldn’t dare follow. With a determined breath, he started toward Arthur’s estate.


    Theo moved swiftly through the thickening shadows, the cold air biting at his skin as he descended the hill, Elena’s unconscious form draped over his shoulder. Her breathing was shallow, but at least she was still breathing. He could feel her heartbeat—faint, but steady. Each step felt like it carried the weight of his guilt alongside her fragile body.


    The artifact remained in the bag slung across his back, its strange warmth pressing against him through the fabric. He didn’t look at it, didn’t think about the glowing symbols or why it burned him. Not now. His focus was entirely on getting Elena to safety.


    Moonlight filtered through the skeletal branches of the trees as he made his way off the hill, the distant city lights barely visible. The ground was uneven beneath his feet, but he navigated it with ease, his strength returning rapidly as his wounds healed.


    Arthur’s estate wasn’t far, but the path was difficult, and Theo’s mind buzzed with potential dangers.


    He shifted Elena slightly, careful not to jostle her, and kept moving, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of movement. The further they traveled from the hill, the more isolated they became. The bustling sounds of the city had long since faded into silence, replaced only by the rustling of leaves and the faint whispers of the wind.


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    Arthur’s estate loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the sky. The prospect of spending so much time around his old mentor was not a happy thought, but he knew he would have to swallow his pride. This was their best chance.


    As Theo walked closer, old memories surged to the surface, vivid and painful. One memory in particular gripped him with an intensity that made his chest tighten. He could see it clearly—Arthur’s study, the flickering glow of candelabras that had been more than just decoration in those days. The room had been dim, filled with a heavy silence.


    “The council...” Arthur’s voice had been steady, but tension lurked beneath each word, “will not free you.”


    Theo’s jaw had tightened, but he hadn’t responded. He had expected this outcome. Even so, the finality of Arthur’s words felt like a blow. He had felt Arthur’s gaze on him, but he hadn’t turned around, his hands clenched at his sides, staring out the window into the darkness.


    “They won’t change their minds,” Arthur had continued, bitterness creeping into his tone. “Darius confirmed it.”


    Theo had nodded, his voice quiet, resigned. “Then that’s it. I remain bound to him.”


    The silence that followed had been thick with tension, the kind that filled every corner of the room. Arthur had stood slowly, his chair scraping softly across the floor as he rose. His footsteps had been measured, deliberate, as he approached Theo.


    “I won’t let that happen,” Arthur had said, his voice low but filled with a dangerous resolve.


    Theo’s heart had pounded in his chest. He knew exactly what Arthur was planning, but he didn’t protest. How could he? Arthur was the only one who had ever truly cared about his fate. After all the torment he had suffered under his master, Arthur was offering him a way out—a chance at freedom.


    But there had been more to it than that. Theo had known the potential for backlash. Lucian wouldn’t let the murder of his eldest fledgling go unpunished. If Arthur killed Theo’s master, Lucian would retaliate, and it wouldn’t just be Arthur who paid the price.


    “I could leave,” Theo had said after a long pause, though he had known it wasn’t a real option. “Run, disappear.”


    Arthur had shaken his head. “It wouldn’t work. He’d find you, and it would be worse.”


    They had stopped speaking for a long moment. Theo had hoped to find a solution, but none had come. He had been trapped between two terrible choices: to remain bound to his master or to let Arthur carry out what needed to be done, knowing full well what it could unleash.


    Finally, Theo had sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to do this, Arthur.”


    Arthur’s jaw had tightened, his eyes hardening with resolve. “Yes, I do.”


    Theo hadn’t said anything more, but the weight of his silence spoke volumes. He hadn’t stopped Arthur, hadn’t protested. He could have begged him not to go through with it, warned him of the danger that loomed. But he had not.


    Because deep down, he had wanted it too.


    Theo wondered if, knowing what he knew now, he would still have allowed Arthur to go through with it. It was a question he did not dare answer.


    Reaching the outer edge of the estate, Theo slowed, casting a glance behind him to ensure they hadn’t been followed. His senses were on high alert, but there was no sign of pursuit, at least not yet.


    The grand stone building emerged through the trees, its old-world charm nearly suffocated by the wilderness surrounding it. There were no lights on, but Theo knew Arthur was always aware of who approached his home.


    He reached the entrance, feeling the weight of Elena in his arms. He looked down at her pale face, guilt once again clawing at his insides. She had trusted him, risked everything to save him, and now... he was dragging her deeper into his world of darkness.


    He shifted her gently and knocked on the heavy wooden door, the sound echoing in the silence. After a tense moment, the door creaked open, and there stood Arthur, his sharp, ageless features framed by the flicker of candlelight from within. His piercing blue gaze swept over Theo, then down to Elena, a flicker of understanding crossing his eyes.


    “I see you made it out,” Arthur said.


    “Yes,” Theo replied, his voice hoarse. “But not before Celeste got to her.”


    Arthur’s gaze softened just slightly, and he stepped aside to let them in.


    “Come,” he said, his tone taking on an air of urgency. “We have much to discuss.”