The Last Heir of the Forbidden Family

The Father's Wrath

Chapter 10: The Father's Wrath

The smoke from the thermobaric charge curled around Augustin Voss’s polished leather shoes like a pet waiting for a command. He stood there, completely unbothered by the wreckage of the bunker, looking more like he was waiting for a delayed flight than standing in the middle of a war zone.

"You really made a mess of the place, Seraphine," Augustin said, his voice smooth and conversational, as if they were discussing a spilled glass of wine. "And after Kenji went to all the trouble of installing those reinforced bolts. It’s a shame."

"Don’t do this, Dad," Seraphine said, her voice tight, her grip white-knuckled on the hilts of her silver daggers. "We’ve got a deal. I bring him in, I stabilize the asset. You said I had time."

"You used your time," Augustin replied, tilting his head slightly as he looked past her at Dorian. "And while I appreciate the efficiency of using your own lips to secure the bond, your heart seems to be getting in the way of your head. That wasn't part of the sequence."

Dorian felt the floor hum under his feet, the gold under his skin flaring in sync with his mounting panic. "Wait, what sequence? What are you talking about?"

"Dorian, don't," Kenji warned, coughing through the dust as he tried to find a clear shot from behind the ruins of his desk. "He’s just trying to distract you. Keep your head on straight."

"I think the boy deserves a bit of clarity, don't you?" Augustin asked, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. The Cleaners shifted their rifles, their aim never wavering. "You look confused, Dorian. Hasn't Seraphine explained the technical details of your 'relationship' yet?"

"I know enough," Dorian snapped, though his heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "I know you killed my parents. I know you’re trying to turn me into a battery."

"A battery? That’s such a crude way to put it," Augustin sighed, looking genuinely disappointed. "I’m trying to ensure your survival. An unstable Ardent is a danger to everyone. But a Bound Ardent? That’s something we can work with. Of course, once the Binding is complete, we don't really need the flesh-and-blood housing anymore. The 'vessel,' so to speak, becomes redundant."

Dorian felt a cold sinkhole open in his stomach. He looked at the back of Seraphine’s head, at the shimmering silver of her hair. "Seraphine? What’s he saying?"

"He’s lying, Dorian," she said, but her voice held a tremor she couldn't hide. "He’s just trying to break the bond before it sets. If he can make you doubt me, the frequency will spike, and he can move in."

"Is that it?" Augustin asked with a faint grin. "Tell him, Seraphine. Tell him about the termination clause in the Voss Binding Ritual. Tell him exactly what happens to the donor once the receiver has fully grounded the charge."

"Seraphine, tell me he’s full of it," Dorian said, his voice barely a whisper. "Tell me you didn't know."

"Dorian, listen to me—"

"Did you know?" Dorian’s voice rose, and with it, the temperature in the bunker climbed ten degrees. The air started to shimmer with golden static. "The whole thing. The kiss, the 'protection,' the whole 'peace' speech you gave me. Was that all just part of the user manual?"

"It’s not like that!" Seraphine turned her head slightly, her violet eyes swimming with something that looked like guilt. "It started that way, yeah. It was an assignment. But things changed!"

"Oh, 'things changed,'" Dorian repeated, a bitter laugh bubbling up in his throat. "Well, that makes me feel way better about being a dead man walking. You were basically just prepping the turkey, right? Making sure the juice was 'stable' before the carving started?"

"Dorian, please," she begged. "I’m trying to find another way! I’m looking for the partition files, I can—"

"There is no other way," Augustin interrupted, tapping his silver-headed cane twice on the concrete. "The ritual is a closed loop, Dorian. She takes your power to save your life, then we take her and store the power elsewhere. You get a quick, painless exit, and the city stays in one piece. Everyone wins."

"Except me!" Dorian screamed.

The gold inside him didn't just flicker; it exploded. But it wasn't a pulse directed at the Cleaners this time. It was a chaotic, uncontrolled surge of pure anguish. The golden veins in his arms turned into jagged, glowing rivers.

Kenji doubled over, clutching his head. "God... kid... stop! You’re frying the air!"

Even the Cleaners stumbled back, their electronic visors hissing and sparking from the raw electromagnetic interference. Augustin winced, the first crack in his serene mask appearing as he pressed a hand to his temple.

"Look at them," Dorian gasped, tears of gold trailing down his cheeks. "I’m hurting everyone! Is this what you wanted? This is the power you’re so excited about?"

"Stop it, Dorian!" Seraphine cried out, falling to one knee as the pressure in the room became unbearable. "You’re going to kill yourself! You have to vent it into me! Use the bond!"

"Why?" Dorian looked down at her, his eyes glowing with an intensity that looked like a dying star. "So you can hand me over more easily? So my death is a little quieter for your dad’s convenience?"

"I’m not handing you over!" she yelled, her voice raw.

She stood up, struggling against the literal weight of his aura. With a scream of effort, she didn't move toward Dorian. She spun around, her daggers flashing in the dim light. But instead of pointing them at Dorian or Kenji, she aimed them straight at the center of Augustin Voss’s chest.

"Seraphine, don't be tedious," Augustin said, though his breath was coming in short hitches from the pressure of Dorian’s proximity. "Lower the blades. You’re a Voss. You don't throw away a legacy for a temporary emotional spike."

"You’re right," she said, her violet eyes burning with a dangerous light. "I am a Voss. And I’m deciding that the legacy of this House is a pile of trash. I’m not your operative anymore, Augustin. And I’m definitely not your daughter."

"Is that your final answer?" Augustin asked, his voice losing every trace of its casual warmth. "You’d side with a glitch? A dying remnant of a dead age?"

"I’m siding with the guy you’re trying to butcher," Seraphine snapped. "Kenji! Get him out of here! I’ll hold them off!"

"With what?" Kenji shouted, crawling toward his fallen shotgun. "There’s twelve of them!"

"Just go!"

Dorian looked at her, his brain feeling like it was melting inside his skull. "Seraphine... why? You heard what he said. You’re part of it."

"I was part of it," she said, her eyes fixed on her father. "Now I’m the traitor. Now run, Dorian! Before I lose my nerve!"

Augustin didn't look angry. He looked bored. He slowly reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a small, rectangular device with a single crystal set in the center.

"I expected this," Augustin said softly. "The 'heroic sacrifice' phase. It’s a classic symptom of biological entanglement. Fortunately, we build failsafes for these exact moments."

"What’s that?" Kenji asked, his weapon leveled at Augustin. "Drop it, Voss!"

"It’s not a detonator, Kenji. It’s an override," Augustin said. He looked at Seraphine with a look of genuine pity. "Did you really think the 'blood-bond' was just between you and the boy? You forget whose blood is in your veins, Seraphine. You forget where you come from."

"What are you doing?" she whispered, her hands starting to shake—not from fear, but from a sudden, rhythmic twitch in her muscles.

"I’m initiating the Command Override," Augustin said. He pressed his thumb against the crystal. "You gave him a Command earlier tonight, Dorian. Now, I’ll give her one. Only mine is built into her DNA."

A low-frequency hum, deeper and more visceral than Dorian’s gold, filled the room. Seraphine’s eyes suddenly went blank, the deep violet being replaced by a flat, uniform lavender. She stiffened, her silver daggers clattering to the floor before she slowly reached for the pistol holstered at her hip.

"Seraphine?" Dorian took a step toward her, the golden heat in him suddenly dropping into an icy dread. "Seraphine, hey. Stop it."

She didn't answer. She turned with mechanical, jerking precision, her arm extending until the barrel of the gun was inches from Dorian’s forehead.

"Dad, stop!" she croaked, her voice sounding like it was being squeezed through a grinder. "Dorian... I can't... I can't stop it..."

"The choice is simple now, daughter," Augustin said, leaning back on his cane as the Cleaners closed ranks around him. "Kill the boy and bring me the core. Or watch as I force you to pull the trigger anyway, and then I’ll burn the rest of this sector to make sure nobody remembers your name."

Dorian stared into the black void of the barrel, then into the empty, vacant eyes of the woman he had just begun to trust. The gold in his veins hummed one last time—not with anger, but with a quiet, terrifying resolve.

"Kill hi

m, daughter," Augustin commanded, his voice cold as the grave. "Or watch the whole city burn."