Blackridge never truly slept again after that night.
The storm had cleared, but the air hadn’t recovered. Every dawn since felt too quiet, too aware, as if the city itself was holding its breath. And somewhere under that false calm, something was spreading—like veins of light beneath concrete, faintly visible at night when the power grid flickered. Elena had stopped trying to rationalize it. After witnessing Ethan’s battle with the winged creature, reason felt like a luxury of the ignorant. She’d seen what he was. And though every instinct told her to run, she couldn’t. Don Vitale didn’t sleep either. The patriarch sat in his study with whiskey untouched and ashtrays full. The courtyard still bore the scars of that battle—craters where marble had melted, a faint residue of gold dust clinging to the air. The Don had buried men for seeing less. “What the hell is he?” he muttered to himself, replaying the footage from the estate’s damaged cameras. Every frame was the same: flashes of light, shadows of wings, and Ethan Cross walking out of the inferno alive. His consigliere cleared his throat. “Word is, Father Delacroix arrived in the city. The Vatican’s envoy.” Don Vitale frowned. “That snake? He doesn’t breathe without Rome’s leash around his neck.” “He requested a private meeting. Says it’s urgent. About the stranger.” The Don glanced back at the frozen frame of Ethan—shirtless, eyes glowing like gold embers, a god among men. He crushed the cigar between his fingers. “Set it up,” he said. “And double the guards. No one touches my daughter until I know what that man really is.” Downstairs, Elena helped Ethan dress. His wounds had healed faster than any doctor could explain. What yesterday were gashes were now faint golden scars, still warm to the touch. “You shouldn’t move,” she said. “I don’t have a choice.” “Your body—” “Isn’t mine anymore.” He buttoned the shirt, ignoring the faint shimmer beneath his skin. “I felt the next seal last night,” he said. “It’s waking.” “Where?” He paused. “South. Somewhere below the city. The heartbeat of the old world.” She frowned. “Blackridge has no old world. It’s all steel and ruin.” Ethan smiled faintly. “Then you’ve never looked deep enough.” They found it beneath the catacombs. The tunnels ran beneath the old cathedral—a labyrinth of forgotten tombs, relics, and crypts older than the city itself. Ethan moved through the darkness like someone remembering a dream. The walls whispered in an ancient tongue, and every time his hand brushed the stone, the air grew warmer. Elena followed close, flashlight trembling. “Why would Heaven seal power under a church?” “Because faith is the perfect prison,” he said. “They buried my flames beneath their altars so no one would ever light them again.” They reached the heart of the catacombs—a vast chamber where light bent unnaturally, as if the air itself was warped by heat. At the center stood a statue of an angel, wings folded, hands clasped around a golden orb. Ethan approached. The sigil on his chest began to glow. “The Second Seal,” he whispered. As he reached out, a voice echoed through the chamber. “Step away, Aurelian.” Elena turned sharply. A figure stood at the edge of the light—a man in a dark cassock, the silver cross around his neck gleaming faintly. His eyes were sharp, calm, dangerous. “Father Delacroix,” Ethan said, recognition curling his lip. “They sent you?” The priest stepped forward. “To contain what should have stayed buried. You broke the First Seal. That cannot be undone.” “I didn’t break it,” Ethan replied. “The world did.” “You were exiled for a reason. You bring ruin wherever you tread. If you awaken the Second, nothing will stop the descent.” Ethan took another step toward the statue. “Then pray fast, Father.” Delacroix’s tone hardened. “This is not your war anymore.” Ethan’s eyes flared gold. “It was always my war.” And the ground trembled. The statue began to crack. Lines of molten light spread across its surface, pulsing in time with Ethan’s heartbeat. The orb between its hands started to melt, dripping fire that didn’t fall but rose. Delacroix raised a relic—an ornate cruciform blade etched with Latin. The instant he spoke the first prayer, the chamber roared to life. Holy light clashed with Aurelian’s flame, burning the air between them. Elena screamed as shockwaves shattered the walls. Ethan turned, his voice thunder. “Leave, Elena!” “I’m not leaving you!” He gritted his teeth, caught between worlds. His power clawed up through his veins, a sun caged in mortal flesh. The seal’s energy called to him, begged to be freed. Delacroix’s chant grew louder. “Exorcizo te, spiritus superbus!” Ethan snarled, “You think Latin can bind me?” He thrust his palm forward. The golden fire met divine light head-on, tearing the chamber apart. The blast sent both men flying. Dust and heat swallowed everything. When the smoke cleared, the statue was gone. In its place hovered a sphere of pure radiance—alive, pulsing, whispering. Ethan crawled toward it, every muscle shaking. “Elena,” he gasped. “Don’t touch it—” But it was too late. She had stepped forward, drawn by something she couldn’t resist. The light wrapped around her like a living flame, searing yet tender. Ethan’s heart stopped. “Elena!” She didn’t scream. She just looked at him, eyes wide, glowing faintly. “It’s… singing,” she whispered. “It knows your name.” Then she collapsed. Ethan caught her before she hit the ground, cradling her against him. Her pulse was steady, but faint—and every beat carried a shimmer of light. He looked up at Delacroix, who was slowly standing, blood on his lips. “What did you do?” Ethan roared. The priest stared at Elena in horror. “She took the flame meant for you. The Seal… chose her.” “No.” Ethan’s voice cracked. “No, it can’t.” “She carries it now,” Delacroix said. “The Second Flame. A mortal host. You’ve doomed her.” Ethan’s hands trembled. The realization hit him like ice. Elena stirred weakly, her voice a whisper. “Ethan… it’s inside me.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ll fix it. I swear to you.” Delacroix’s voice echoed softly. “You can’t fix divinity, Aurelian. You can only pay for it.” Ethan rose, still holding her, fire blazing behind his eyes. “Then Heaven will pay first.” Hours later, back at the estate, Elena lay unconscious on silk sheets, her skin faintly luminous. Ethan sat beside her, hands clenched. Every pulse of light from her body resonated with the same rhythm as the sigil on his chest. Their energies had intertwined. He could feel it—the connection, the tether that hadn’t existed before. When the next seal broke, it wouldn’t just call him. It would call her. Don Vitale burst into the room, fury burning behind his eyes. “What did you do to my daughter?” Ethan didn’t look up. “Saved her.” “She’s glowing like a damned candle!” “She holds a power that could unmake worlds,” Ethan said quietly. “And Heaven will come for her now.” The Don drew his gun. “Over my dead body.” Ethan’s eyes flicked to him—cold, ancient, merciless. “That can be arranged.” For a moment, no one moved. Then Elena stirred, whispering something in her sleep. The sound was soft, pure—like the echo of a bell. Ethan’s expression changed. “She’s dreaming the flame’s song.” “English, damn it!” the Don barked. “She’s becoming what I was,” Ethan said. “And I won’t let them take her.” That night, as he stood at the balcony again, the horizon flickered—six faint lights far beyond the city, forming a circle in the clouds. Each one pulsed once, twice, like a heartbeat. The seals were answering each other. And somewhere deep within Elena’s chest, the second flame awoke. She gasped in her sleep, arching as light poured from her fingertips, tracing celestial marks along her skin. Ethan turned sharply, eyes wide. “No, no, no—” The marks formed wings. Not real ones—yet. But shadows of what was coming. He fell to his knees beside her bed, gripping her hand. “Stay with me. Don’t let it take you.” Her eyes fluttered open, glowing gold. “I see them,” she whispered. “The other flames. They’re calling you home.” He shook his head fiercely. “I’m not going back.” She smiled faintly, almost dreamily. “Then maybe I’ll bring Heaven to you.” And before he could answer, the flame inside her flared—bright enough to blind the world.
Latest Chapter
Chapter 14: The Price of Loyalty
The rain hadn’t stopped for three days.It came down in silver knives, cutting through the industrial skyline, washing away the filth that the city could never cleanse on its own. Inside the warehouse, the air was heavy with rust, oil, and unspoken words.Ethan sat on the edge of a steel crate, sleeves rolled up, eyes fixed on the floor. His shirt clung to his skin, dark with sweat and rain. Across from him, Ava paced, arms wrapped around herself as if she could hold the weight of her guilt together.They hadn’t spoken much since she arrived.He’d offered her dry clothes and silence — two things he knew she needed more than forgiveness.Now, as thunder cracked over the harbor, she finally broke the stillness.“Do you ever regret it?” she asked softly.Ethan’s eyes lifted. “What?”“Us.”He studied her, his gaze steady and unreadable. “Every day,” he said after a long pause. “And never once.”She exhaled, the tension in her shoulders trembling. “You make that sound like a punishment.”“
Chapter 13: Bllid in the Water
The Langston estate had never felt so cold.Ava stood by the window of her father’s study, watching the storm sweep across the grounds. The world outside looked like glass and smoke—beautiful, but fragile. She could almost see Ethan’s reflection in the clouds, that look of disbelief when she’d tried to explain herself. “You betrayed me to save me.”His words had been quiet, but they cut deeper than a scream ever could.Behind her, the heavy oak doors creaked open. Her father entered, his steps measured and deliberate. The scent of cigar smoke followed him, curling into the air like poison.“So,” he began, settling into his chair, “you told him.”Ava turned sharply. “You knew he would find out. You set me up.”Langston’s lips curved. “You think I needed to? Ethan Carter is a man who destroys himself. All I did was show him where to look.”Her jaw clenched. “He loved this family. He rebuilt everything you lost when you gambled away the company’s name.”“Love,” her father scoffed. “Love
Chapter 12: Bloodline of the Valentines
Ava Valente was elegance herself today as always. That morning, the Valente estate glowed with the sheen of old money and quiet menace. Marble floors reflected chandeliers that dripped crystal light; portraits of dead ancestors stared down with eyes too knowing. Every corner smelled faintly of cigars, roses, and iron discipline.And through that grand foyer walked Ava — head high, heels sharp, crimson dress catching the dawn light. The silk hugged her form, a weapon in itself. Her expression was poised, serene, but her eyes — a molten amber inherited from her mother — missed nothing.Every glance. Every whisper. Every betrayal.The men in her father’s service called her la fiamma silenziosa — the silent flame. They thought she didn’t notice the way their gazes lingered when she passed, or the way they said her name with equal parts awe and fear. But she’d grown up under Don Alessandro Valente. She knew the difference between admiration and weakness. And she’d learned early that both
Chapter 11: The Echo of Steel
It was night and the rain fell in silver threads over the rusted bones of Blackridge, washing grime from rooftops that hadn’t seen sunlight in years. Neon signs flickered above shuttered pawnshops and brothels, their dying light reflecting in oil-slick puddles that painted the streets in fractured color.Ethan Cross stood beneath a dented awning, his hood pulled low, cigarette burning to a tired ember. The smoke curled upward, lost to the wet night. He had always liked the rain—it silenced the world. Hid the gunshots. Blurred the past.This street had been his once. The Iron Syndicate’s old quarter. Back when he’d been someone men whispered about. Back when “Wolf General” wasn’t just a name—it was a warning.He hadn’t come here to remember. But some ghosts are louder than reason.Now he was just Ethan Cross—the unemployed son-in-law of Alessandro Valente, a man whose dinner table was a battlefield of politics, whose words could end empires. Ava’s husband. The quiet one. The disappoint
Chapter 10: The Serpent Queen's Hunger
Morning came pale and thin over the Langston mansion. The marble floors still bore the marks of the night’s battle: scorched wood, shattered glass, the scent of smoke. Outside, the city went about its business as if nothing had happened, but inside, a war was quietly taking root.Isabella hadn’t slept. She sat by the window of the east wing, watching the dawn creep across the skyline. Her hands trembled when she lifted her coffee cup. The previous night’s images replayed endlessly: the sigil, the assassins, the impossible light pouring from her husband’s skin.She could still hear his words: They’ve remembered me.Her father’s voice broke her trance. “You’ve brought ruin to this house.”Alexander Langston stood in the doorway, immaculate in his dark suit, eyes cold. Behind him loomed two of his enforcers, men who had served him longer than she’d been alive. He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to.“I didn’t bring them,” she said quietly. “They came for him.”“Which means,” her fa
Chapter 9: The War Lord's Memory
The storm hadn’t stopped.By midnight, Blackridge was drowning in thunder. The city’s lights flickered like dying stars, painting the skyline in shards of gold and electric blue. Ethan stood in the courtyard of the Langston estate, his coat heavy with rain, his mind slipping between centuries. Every heartbeat pulled him deeper into a place he had once sworn never to return.He could hear it again—the sound of war drums rolling through his veins.The pulse of gods. The breath of eternity.Kryos.He closed his eyes. Lightning split the heavens, and for a second, the courtyard wasn’t made of marble and rain but ash and fire. He stood on a battlefield carved into the bones of the earth. Thousands of warriors screamed his name, their blades dripping with celestial blood. He remembered standing on that same soil as a god, watching the world burn for him.Then came the betrayal.Then came the fall.A sudden gust dragged him back to the present. The storm smelled of ozone and danger, but ther
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