2026-10-19 22:31:14
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Chapter 787
Bob arrived at the main chamber where Doomdoer and Kaelen were waiting with the other guards.The room was filled with dark-cloaked figures, their faces hidden behind masks. The air was thick with tension—the calm before the storm. Kaelen stood at the altar, his black eyes scanning the room with cold satisfaction. Doomdoer stood beside him, his expression grim.Doomdoer called Bob forward."You've been given a special assignment," he said. "You will watch over the prisoner. Make sure she doesn't escape. Make sure she doesn't cause any trouble."He paused, his eyes narrowing."And if she tries anything—anything at all—you finish her off."He handed Bob a gun—cold, heavy, loaded. Bob took it, his hands steady despite the turmoil inside him.Doomdoer leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper."Mercy is not something to consider. Not tonight. Not ever. Do you understand?"Bob nodded, his face unreadable behind the mask."I understand."Doomdoer studied him for a long moment, then n
Chapter 786
Bob returned to his small, sparse room in the church's undercroft.It wasn't much—a cot, a chair, a small table with a single candle. The walls were bare stone, cold and damp. The only light came from a tiny window near the ceiling, barely wide enough to let in a sliver of moonlight. But it was his. The only space in the world that belonged to him.He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His hands were trembling. His heart was pounding. He didn't know why. He'd done this a hundred times—checked on prisoners, reported to Doomdoer, followed orders. It had never affected him before.But tonight—tonight something was different.He reached up and pulled off his mask. It was a relief to have it off—the mask always made him feel like he was suffocating. He set it on the table and caught a glimpse of himself in the small, cracked mirror above the basin.His face was pale. His eyes were red-rimmed. His cheeks were wet.He was crying.He di
Chapter 785
The young man stopped at the door, his hand resting on the iron handle. He didn't turn around."There's only one path left for me," he said quietly. "The path with Doomdoer and Kaelen."Wilfreda strained against her chains, her voice urgent. "And then what? After everything—after all the death and destruction—how sure are you that you won't be discarded like used toilet paper?"The young man's shoulders tensed. He turned slowly, his dark eyes meeting hers."Maybe I will be," he said. "Maybe they'll throw me away when they're done. But at least I'll have had a purpose. At least I'll have belonged to something."Wilfreda stared at him, her heart aching. "Belonged to something? You call this belonging? You're a pawn in someone else's game. You're nothing to them."The young man's jaw tightened. "Better than being forsaken by the same country that was supposed to protect me. Better than being forgotten by a system that was so political, so corrupt, that it made a young orphan feel lost in
Chapter 784
Wilfreda hung from the chains, her arms aching, her body weak. The cell was dark, cold, silent—except for the distant echo of footsteps and the occasional whisper of voices. She tried to focus, tried to listen, tried to understand what was happening. But her mind kept drifting back to Harry. To the lies. To the betrayal. She thought she knew what love was. She thought she knew what sacrifice meant. But she was wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong.The voices grew louder. Wilfreda strained to hear. Doomdoer's voice—cold, calculating, familiar. And another voice—deeper, older, filled with ancient malice. Kaelen. They were talking. Planning. She couldn't make out every word, but she caught fragments."The O'Connors... tonight... no mercy... finally..."Her blood ran cold. They were going to attack. They were going to kill her family. And she was powerless to stop them.And then—a shift in the air. A presence. A figure materializing before her.Wilfreda's first instinct was fear. Another
Chapter 783
Wilfreda was dragged through the dark corridors of the church, her feet stumbling on the cold stone floor. The men in black masks held her arms tightly, their grips bruising, their silence more terrifying than any words. She didn't struggle. She didn't have the strength. All she could do was stumble forward, her mind racing, her heart breaking.They stopped in front of a heavy iron door—the same door she remembered from before. The same cell where Doomdoer had held her captive. The same chains that had once bound her to the wall.The men unchained her wrists just long enough to chain her to the wall—arms spread, feet barely touching the ground. The iron was cold against her skin. The chains rattled with every breath she took.And then they left her.The door slammed shut. The lock clicked. And Wilfreda was alone.She hung there in the darkness, her body weak, her mind reeling. She thought of her family—of Chance, of Christopher, of everyone she left behind. She thought of the argument
Chapter 782
Wilfreda left the estate in the dead of night.She moved through the darkened halls with practiced silence, her footsteps barely audible on the cold marble floors. The key was clutched in her hand, the ancient texts tucked under her arm. She didn't know where she was going—not exactly—but she knew she had to find the Heart. She had to save Harry. She had to prove to Chance—to everyone—that she was right.The night air was cold against her skin as she stepped outside. The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale silver light across the gardens. She paused for just a moment, looking back at the estate—at the home she was leaving behind, at the family she was walking away from.Then she turned and walked into the darkness.***The old church loomed before her, its crumbling spires reaching toward the sky like skeletal fingers. It looked the same as it had the last time she was here—the night Harry had died. But there was something different about it now. Something darker. Something watchfu
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