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Chapter 666: The Divide Among Wardens!
The basement of St. Michael's Church was colder than usual.Jason stood before the assembly, his report delivered, his plea for patience hanging in the air like smoke. The candles flickered, casting dancing shadows across the faces of the twenty-seven Wardens who sat in judgment.The silence stretched.Then the debate began."She is compromised," said a Warden named Harrison—a broad-shouldered man with a gray beard and eyes like flint. "Not by the Queen. Not by the Devourers. By you, Jason. Your feelings for her have clouded your judgment."Jason's jaw tightened. "My feelings are not relevant.""Everything about you is relevant," Harrison shot back. "You were recalled from your assignment years ago precisely because the council feared you were becoming too attached. We saw it then. We see it now."A murmur of agreement rippled through the assembly.Jason stood his ground. "I was recalled because the council believed I was compromised. I was not. I have never allowed my personal feelin
Chapter 665: The Morning After!
The first pale light of dawn crept through the nursery curtains, painting silver stripes across the floor.Sophia hadn't moved from her spot beside the crib. Her back ached from sitting against the wall, her eyes burned from crying, and her throat was raw from the silent screams that had woken her. But she didn't care. She had watched the twins breathe through the night—every rise and fall of their tiny chests, every small sound, every shift in their sleep.They were alive. They were safe. They were still here.And she would keep them that way.She heard footsteps in the hallway—soft, careful, the footsteps of someone who didn't want to wake the house. The nursery door creaked open, and Bella stepped inside.She was wearing her nightgown, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her face still soft with sleep. She had come to check on the twins, as she did every morning, as she had done since the day they were born.She stopped when she saw Sophia."Sophia?" Bella's voice was a whis
Chapter 664: The Nightmare!
Sophia parked her car in the circular drive, her hands still trembling on the steering wheel. The house was lit up—warm light spilling from every window.She sat for a long moment, staring at the front door.You can still leave, a voice whispered in her mind. You can still drive away. You don't have to do this.But she couldn't. She had nowhere else to go. And the weight of the prophecy—the weight of Jason's words—pressed down on her chest like a stone.She got out of the car.***Ruth stood in the doorway, her arms open, her face a mixture of relief and worry. "Sophia," Ruth said, her voice warm. "You're back. I didn't know you had left, but—""I need to be alone."Sophia's voice was flat, emotionless. She walked past Ruth, through the grand foyer, past the portraits of ancestors who stared down at her with judgmental eyes. She didn't stop. Didn't pause. Didn't look back.Ruth's arms dropped to her sides. "Sophia—""I need to be alone," Sophia repeated. And then she was gone, climbi
Chapter 663: The Assembly of Wardens!
Jason stood in the empty parking lot of the Rusty Spoon, watching Sophia's taillights disappear into the gathering dusk.The cold wind cut through his jacket, but he barely felt it. His mind was still in the diner—still replaying her words, her tears, the way she had pushed the parchment away as if it might burn her.I didn't ask for this. I don't want this. I just want to live my life.He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath.I know. But the war doesn't care what we want.He walked to his truck—an old, battered thing that had seen better decades—and climbed in. The engine coughed to life, and he pulled out of the parking lot, heading not toward the estate, but away from it.The Wardens were waiting.***The church was hidden in plain sight.On the outskirts of the city, where the suburbs gave way to farmland, stood a small, rundown building with a sagging roof and a steeple that leaned slightly to the left. The sign out front read "St. Michael's Community Church" in faded
Chapter 662: The Forgotten Hart!
Sophia sat in silence, her coffee cold, her heart pounding. Jason watched her with those warm, tired eyes—waiting, patient, as if he had all the time in the world."But that's not all," Sophia said. It wasn't a question.Jason shook his head slowly. "No. That's not all."He reached into his jacket again—a different pocket this time—and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. It was yellowed with age, the edges frayed, the creases so deep they had almost worn through. He smoothed it on the table between them, his calloused fingers gentle, reverent."This," he said, "is the reason I was assigned to you. The reason the Wardens have been watching you since the day you were born. The reason you have never been able to escape the Harts, no matter how far you ran."Sophia looked down at the parchment.The writing was old—older than the journal, older than the diner, older than the town itself. The ink had faded to a rusty brown, and the letters were formed in a script she didn't recognize. B
Chapter 661: The Wardens' Oath!
Jason took a long breath, his fingers still brushing Sophia's across the worn linoleum of the diner table. The coffee sat between them, growing cold, forgotten."The beginning," he said slowly, "is seven centuries ago. Before the first Hart built this estate. Before the Watcher was awakened. Before the Devourers were named."Sophia didn't move. Didn't blink."There was a woman named Elena Ward," Jason continued. "She was not a soldier. She was not a queen. She was a farmer's daughter who lived in a village at the edge of the forest—the forest where the shadows gathered."He pulled his hand back and reached into his jacket. From an inner pocket, he withdrew a small, leather-bound book—old, worn, its cover cracked and faded. He set it on the table between them."This is her journal. The original. Passed down through my family for twenty-eight generations."Sophia stared at the book. "You carry that with you?""Always." Jason opened it to the first page. The handwriting was shaky, writte
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