A Vow of Vengeance and Silk

The winking eye vanished back into the darkness, leaving them standing frozen in the crypt's oppressive silence. Seraphine could feel Kaelan's pulse racing where their hands were joined, his fingers trembling slightly despite the iron grip. The black fluid from her scar had stopped flowing, but a dull, insistent ache remained, pulsing in time with the shimmering tear in the air before them. "You're bleeding," Kaelan murmured, his voice rough with concern. He reached up with his free hand, his gloved fingers brushing gently at her temple. The leather was warm against her chilled skin, but she could still feel the unnatural heat of his scars beneath. She caught his wrist before he could pull away. "It's not blood," she whispered, turning his hand to show the black, viscous substance now smeared across his glove. It sizzled faintly where it touched the leather, sending up thin tendrils of smoke that smelled of burnt sugar and rotting leaves. Rook cleared her throat sharply, her crossbow trained unwaveringly on the pulsing tear. "As touching as this moment is," she said through gritted teeth, "we've got bigger problems."

The tear shuddered violently, the edges fraying like torn fabric. A sound emerged from the darkness , a wet, clicking noise that set Seraphine's teeth on edge. Then a hand shot through the opening, claws scraping against stone with a screech that echoed through the crypt. Not just any hand. Seraphine's breath caught in her throat. The limb was elongated, the fingers too many and too long, ending in blackened talons. But what made her stomach twist was the familiar shape of it - the particular curve of the knuckles, the way the wrist turned. She'd seen those same movements a hundred times when Kaelan reached for his dagger or brushed hair from his eyes. The creature pulled itself through the tear with jerky, unnatural movements, its hunched form unfolding like some grotesque marionette. When it finally stood upright, Seraphine felt Kaelan go rigid beside her.

The face that stared back at them was a nightmare reflection of Kaelan's own - the same sharp cheekbones, the same proud nose, but twisted and broken. The left eye was milky white, the other a familiar brown gone wild and bloodshot. Its lips - cracked and bleeding - peeled back in a mockery of a smile, revealing rows of jagged, yellowed teeth. "Little brother," it rasped, the voice a chorus of whispers and cracking bone. "Did you miss me?" Kaelan's grip on Seraphine's hand became almost painful. "Eldrin," he breathed, the name sounding like a curse and a prayer all at once. The creature , Eldrin threw back its head and laughed, the sound echoing off the crypt walls in a way that made Seraphine's scar throb in response. "Oh, don't look so surprised," it crooned, taking a shuddering step forward. Its limbs moved all wrong, joints bending at impossible angles. "You didn't think you were the only one who survived, did you?" Seraphine felt more than saw Kaelan's reaction - the slight hitch in his breathing, the minute tremble that ran through him before he locked it down. His free hand went to the dagger at his belt, the scars beneath his gloves flaring brighter in warning.

Eldrin's mismatched eyes tracked the movement, its smile widening. "Still fighting, I see." It cocked its head, the motion too sharp, too avian. "Father always said you were the stubborn one." Its gaze slid to Seraphine, lingering on her scar with a familiarity that made her skin crawl. "But bringing a Vaelis into our nest? Even I didn't think you'd sink that low." Kaelan shifted slightly, putting himself between Seraphine and the creature. "That's not my brother," he said tightly, though Seraphine could hear the doubt beneath the words. "Not anymore." Eldrin's laugh was the sound of breaking glass. "Oh, but I am. Just as you're still the boy who wept when the crown first bit into his skin." It took another shuddering step forward, claws scraping against stone. "She's pretty, I'll give you that." Its tongue , too long, too pointed , darted out to wet cracked lips. "Pity she'll look like the rest when the roots take her." Seraphine's scar burned in warning, the pain sharp enough to make her gasp. Eldrin's smile turned predatory. "Ah," it breathed, leaning closer. "You haven't told her." Kaelan moved faster than thought, his dagger flashing in the green-tinged light. It sank into Eldrin's shoulder with a wet thunk, black ichor spraying across the stone floor. The creature barely flinched. "Still fighting, little prince?" Eldrin yanked the blade free with a sickening squelch and licked the ichor from the steel. "After all these years, you still haven't learned." Then it lunged. Kaelan met it mid-air, the two crashing to the ground in a tangle of claws and curses. Seraphine moved to help, but Rook grabbed her arm with surprising strength. "Look!" Rook hissed, pointing at the tear. It was closing. And through the narrowing gap, Seraphine saw them - dozens of figures, all with Kaelan's eyes in various states of ruin, all reaching for her with grasping, clawed hands. The lost princes of the Thorn Court, their mouths moving in silent screams. Kaelan's voice cut through the chaos, raw with desperation: "Seraphine, run!" But she was already moving , not toward the exit, but toward the fight. Because she'd made a vow. And as she raised Pip's dagger, the metal gleaming cold in the dim light, she realized something with startling clarity.

She would burn the world to ash before she let them take him from her.