The room remained quiet, the air still thick with disbelief, as the faint, scale-like shimmer faded from Darius's skin.

  The phoenix physician was the first to break the silence.

  "I've never seen anything like this," he said at last, throwing his hands up when the others turned toward him for answers. His feathers ruffled in agitation. "Not in a human. Not even close."

  He stepped closer, golden eyes narrowing as he stared directly into Darius's.

  "Is there any beastkin blood in your veins?" he asked sharply.

  Darius blinked. "Not that I'm aware of."

  The physician's breathing quickened. Without warning, he reached out with a taloned hand and raked it across Darius's forearm. Darius jerked in surprise.

  "Ah—!"

  "Shut up," the doctor snapped, already uncorking a vial and catching the blood with clinical precision. "You'll be fine."

  They all watched as the shallow wound sealed itself before their eyes. Skin knit together seamlessly, leaving no mark behind.

  The physician stared.

  Then he let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "See? Perfectly fine." He clutched the vial like a priceless artifact. "I need to research this."

  Still muttering to himself, he turned on his heel and all but fled the ward.

  Selene moved immediately.

  She crossed the room in long, purposeful strides. She took Darius's sword hand in both of hers, turning it slightly as she studied the faint remnants of the shimmering pattern.

  "What the hell is this?" she demanded.

  Darius shrugged. "Oh, that? When I first grabbed Devotion, it burned my hand down to the bone. Once it accepted me, it regenerated the whole thing. These…" He flexed his fingers. "They've been there ever since."

  "Fascinating," Myrren murmured.

  Cassian's brow furrowed. "Is that right?"

  Selene released Darius's hand slowly, her expression darkening as her gaze shifted toward Devotion, where it rested beside the bed.

  "Hm. I don't like this."

  Darius held back a smile. "You trying to protect me from the sword now?"

  "Shut up, stupid," Selene snapped. "I'm being serious."

  She folded her arms tightly. "There are too many things piling up that I don't understand. And I don't like it."

  Cassian nodded. "All the more reason to speak with your grandmother again. Let's go."

  Selene inclined her head once, then turned and headed for the door. Cassian followed without hesitation.

  "Where are you going?" Darius called after them.

  Cassian paused just long enough to glance back, his expression sharp.

  "You forget your station, Inquisitor."

  Darius sighed. "My apologies, Your Highness. Princess—may I inquire where you are heading?"

  "Myrren will inform you of what happened," Selene said without turning around. "We have too much to do, and not enough time."

  She exited the room. Cassian lingered a moment longer, then smiled faintly at Darius.

  "Get well soon, Inquisitor."

  The door closed behind him.

  "Insufferable shit," Darius muttered.

  Across the room, Myrren shifted uneasily.

  "Report, Myrren," Darius said, his voice steady now. "What happened after I was… defeated by that demon?"

  Myrren cleared her throat.

  And began to explain.

  ******

  Darius let out a slow breath once Myrren finished speaking.

  "This isn't good," he said quietly. "We need to move quickly, but we don't have any way to expedite things on our end." He glanced toward her. "Any ideas, Myrren?"

  She didn't answer.

  When he looked at her again, she'd drawn her knees to her chest, arms wrapped tight around herself. Her voice was small when she finally spoke. "Commander… I would like to request a transfer to the scholars."

  "Request denied."

  "But—"

  "Don't 'but' me, Sister Myrren." His tone sharpened. "You are an invaluable piece of my unit. I refuse to relinquish you because of one bad experience."

  "I'm a liability," she said, voice trembling. "Because of me, you and High Saint Lucen almost died."

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "The only liabilities were Lucen and me," Darius replied. "We failed to fulfill our roles. You did exactly what you were supposed to do—observe and inform. Truth be told, we should have heeded your warnings and fled."

  He looked away briefly.

  "We were all drunk on our own abilities. The world is wider and deeper than the arrogant minds of humans care to admit."

  Myrren swallowed. "But I could do nothing but watch."

  "If that bothers you," Darius said evenly, "then get stronger."

  She looked up at him, eyes glassy. "How?"

  "You're smart, Myrren. You'll figure something out."

  A voice answered from the doorway.

  "I can help with that."

  Caelthorne stood at the threshold, relaxed as ever. Beside her was Saint Lumin—arms crossed, expression unimpressed.

  Lumin snorted as soon as his eyes landed on Darius. "So you're the guy? The one who's not a prince, trying to steal Lucen's girl?"

  "Steal implies she belongs to him," Darius replied flatly.

  "Whatever. You don't look like much." He walked past Darius and dropped onto the edge of Lucen's bed, poking him lightly. "Got your ass kicked by a demon, huh? Wake up quick so I can make fun of you."

  Darius ignored him. "I get why he's here. Why are you?"

  "We're to be part of Selene's coven," Caelthorne answered. "It's only natural she shares information with us. And it sounds like things are about to get hectic before these Accords come to an end."

  Darius nodded once. "You said you could help Myrren?"

  "More like I can help her help herself." Caelthorne smiled. "I hear she's quite the smart cookie. Loves studying the unknown. And there are a lot of unknowns in the witch archive library."

  Myrren's eyes widened.

  Darius smirked faintly. "Well? Are you willing to give that a go? Or would you still like that transfer?"

  Myrren buried her face in her knees.

  Seconds stretched.

  Then she lifted her head. "I want to try."

  "Good," Darius said.

  "Tell me when you're ready," Caelthorne said. "I'll drop you at the archives and head back here."

  "For what?"

  "You lot got your asses kicked by demons. One-on-one fights aren't feasible anymore. You'll need more muscle. The kids are here to fill the void."

  Darius sighed. He knew the answer already. "Fine."

  "I'll stay with this lump until he wakes up," Lumin said, gesturing at Lucen, "then we'll join you."

  "We'll meet Isolde and the Grand Master once you return," Darius added.

  The room settled into uneasy quiet.

  And the clock, unseen, continued to tick.

  ******

  Meanwhile, Selene and Cassian moved through the winding corridors of the Hallows, their conversation just as weighted as the one they'd left behind. The silence between them was thoughtful rather than empty—both processing what they'd learned, what it meant.

  The Clock Hand Tower loomed ahead, its great mechanisms ticking steadily, indifferent to the turmoil coiling beneath its foundations.

  Cassian glanced sideways at Selene.

  Her expression was distant—tight, thoughtful, burdened.

  "What's on your mind?" he asked at last.

  "Things are going to get bad, Cassian," Selene said quietly. "I can feel it."

  He nodded once. "I agree. It'll get ugly if they escape. The world isn't designed to deal with something like them."

  "You don't have to worry about that," she replied. "It's not that they won't leave the Hallows. They can't."

  Cassian frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "It's what they agreed to with my grandmother."

  "The word of a demon hardly means anything," he countered.

  Selene's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then I suppose it's fortunate those words were bound by a blood pact."

  Cassian slowed, the weight of that settling in. "I see… ah. I see."

  He looked around them—the living stone, the softly glowing sigils, the constant hum of magic woven into every surface. The Hallows were vibrant, impossibly alive.

  And powered by something far darker.

  His eyes widened.

  "You think this was their plan from the start?" he asked slowly. "That they never intended to hide it from you? That they were waiting?"

  Selene didn't answer immediately.

  "They gave in too easily," Cassian continued. "With the power they had, they could've denied everything. Forced the issue. Told you to fetch Morgan if you were so certain." He exhaled sharply. "I've dealt with nobles like them before."

  Selene's gaze sharpened as she listened.

  "Instead," Cassian said, "they admitted it outright—and then attacked. There are only a few reasons someone does that."

  He counted them off quietly.

  "They already accomplished what they wanted. They believe they can stand against Morgan, even inside the Hallows… or—"

  "They've found a way to break the pact," Selene finished.

  Cassian grimaced. "To break a blood pact… yeah. That's when things get catastrophic."

  He paused, then shook his head. "But they haven't broken it yet. Otherwise, they would've left already."

  "Yes," Selene agreed. "Which means there's still something here they want."

  Cassian stopped walking.

  His expression mirrored hers now.

  "What could they possibly want?" he asked. "The demon hearts?"

  Selene shook her head. "Those are bound to my grandmother. The only way they get their hands on them is over her dead body."

  "Then what?"

  She sighed, lifting her hand and pressing her palm against the great doors of the Clock Hand Tower. The mechanisms within shifted, recognizing her presence.

  "I can think of one thing," she said quietly. "Well… two."

  Cassian could see it now—the storm behind her eyes, the weight she was shouldering alone. He stepped closer, reaching out and taking her hand before the doors fully opened. She let him, because he meant well, because he was trying. It should have helped... but.

  "I know what you're thinking," he said firmly. "This isn't your fault. From the look of it, this would've happened whether the Accords existed or not."

  Selene closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

  "If anything," Cassian continued, "the Accords brought it into the light."

  She nodded slowly, steadying herself.

  "You're right," she said at last. "If anything… it only proves how necessary they are."

  Selene closed her eyes and took a slow, steady breath. When she opened them again, she nodded.

  "You're right," she said quietly. "If anything… this is my grandmother's fault."

  Cassian cleared his throat. He had absolutely no desire to antagonize Morgan LeFaye—even if, deep down, he agreed with Selene's assessment.

  "She set up this system," Selene continued, her voice sharpening, "she housed these dangers, bound them here… and then she gave up halfway through."

  Her hand pressed against the towering doors of the Clock Hand Tower as the ancient mechanisms within began to turn.

  "It's time she starts doing her damn job again," Selene said coldly, "or gets the hell out of my city."

  The doors opened.

  Cassian tugged at his collar, suddenly very aware of the place they were about to enter. "Discretion is the better part of valor, Princess," he said carefully. "Perhaps we approach the topic… delicately?"

  Selene scoffed as she stepped forward.

  "That depends entirely on what kind of mood she's in."

  Cassian sighed.

  "Fantastic."