Jackson sat alone in the darkness, his head in his hands, the weight of everything pressing down on him.Bella's words echoed in his mind, relentless and accusatory. You don't ask. You just expect. And when people fail to meet your impossible expectations, you push them away.He replayed the argument with James and Andrew, the sharp words he had spoken, the cold dismissal in his voice. He had called James scared. He had told them they could stay behind if they were afraid. He had made it sound like their years of loyalty meant nothing.And he had been wrong.He had been so consumed by his fear for Ruth and Jacqueline that he had lashed out at the people who loved him most. He had pushed them away when he needed them most.Jackson lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed. He knew what he had to do. He had to make things right. He had to apologize to James and Andrew, to Bella, to everyone he had hurt.But first, he had to save his mother and his sister.He stood, his resolve hardening. He

Jackson looked at Yvonne Tween, and all he could see was a woman driven by vendetta. "You don't have to be like this, Mrs. Tween. You shouldn't allow this lady make you an enemy to the same family that you had stood by all these years. She's only manipulating you."Marcia's laughter echoed through the empty church, cold and triumphant. She stepped closer to Jackson, her eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction."You think you know me, Jackson?" she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "You think you understand what's at stake here?"Jackson's jaw tightened. "I know you're a traitor who's been manipulating everyone around you. That's all I need to know."Marcia shook her head slowly, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "You're so blind, Jackson. So utterly blind."She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I am Evans' mother."Jackson's blood ran cold. "What?""Evans. Your loyal soldier. The man who has fought beside you, bled for you, sacrificed for you." Marcia's smile wi

The shadows in the church grew darker and thicker, as if the very air was being drained of light. The candles flickered and died, one by one, plunging the room into near darkness. Only the black symbols on the floor glowed, pulsing with an unholy light.Jackson stood his ground, the Flameborn fire blazing in his hands, illuminating the terror around him. He could see Ruth and Jacqueline still bound, their eyes wide with fear. He could see James and Andrew fighting off the last of Marcia's guards. He could see Evans, frozen, his grief-stricken gaze fixed on his mother.And he could see Primis.The shadows coalesced into a form—tall, ancient, and terrible. The shape of a man, but not a man. His eyes burned with fire that had existed long before the world was born. His presence filled the church with a cold, suffocating weight.Marcia knelt before him, her voice trembling with reverence. "My lord. I have brought you back. I have fulfilled my promise."Primis looked down at her, his expre

The days that followed the battle were filled with quiet reflection and slow healing.Jackson stood in the garden of the Hart estate, the morning sun casting a warm glow across the roses. The shadows that had once darkened the grounds were gone, replaced by a sense of peace that had been absent for so long. But the weight of loss still lingered.Sophia's sacrifice was a wound that would take time to heal. Her memory was everywhere—in the garden where she had walked, in the rooms where she had laughed, in the hearts of those who had loved her.Jackson felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find James standing beside him, his face etched with the same grief that Jackson carried."Jackson," James said quietly, "we need to talk."Jackson nodded. "I know."They walked to the stone bench beneath the old oak and sat down. The silence between them was heavy, but it was no longer filled with anger. It was filled with understanding."I'm sorry," Jackson said, his voice raw. "For what I said.