The night was quiet. Too quiet.
Eva knew something was wrong the moment she stepped out of the war room. The air smelled of damp stone, the corridors dimly lit by flickering torches, but something felt off. The shadows stretched too long, the silence pressing in on her like a vice.
Then she saw them.
A flicker of movement at the far end of the hall—figures in black cloaks, their faces masked.
Her heart leaped into her throat.
Magnus.
She turned to run, but it was too late.
Hands grabbed her from behind, a thick cloth forced over her mouth. The scent was sharp—some kind of drug. She struggled, kicking and thrashing, but her strength faded as darkness swallowed her whole.
---
Chains of the Fallen
Eva woke up with a pounding headache and the taste of iron on her tongue.
She tried to move, but cold metal bit into her wrists and ankles. Chains. Thick, heavy, unyielding. Her vision was blurry, but as it cleared, she took in her surroundings.
A dark chamber. Stone walls damp with moisture. The scent of burning candles and something more sinister—decay.
A dungeon.
And sitting before her, in a gilded chair as if he were already a king, was Magnus.
"Ah, you're awake." His voice was smooth, dripping with amusement.
Eva's blood boiled. "Untie me, you bastard!"
Magnus chuckled. "Still so spirited. It's almost admirable. Almost." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment."
Eva glared at him. "If you think you can break me, you're a bigger fool than I thought."
Magnus smiled, but there was something cold in his eyes. "Break you? No, my dear. I don't need to break you. I just need to make you submit."
Eva's stomach twisted.
"You see," Magnus continued, "the people may be frightened of me, but they still whisper of hope. And that hope, Eva, is you. You are their symbol, their little beacon of rebellion. As long as you exist, they will resist me."
He stood, walking closer, the candlelight casting eerie shadows on his sharp features.
"But what happens," he mused, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "when their princess bends the knee? When she accepts me as her king?"
Eva jerked away from his touch, eyes burning with fury. "I'd rather die."
Magnus tsked, stepping back. "Let's not be so dramatic. You'll change your mind soon enough."
Eva spat at his feet. "I will never be yours, Magnus. Never."
Magnus sighed, as if disappointed. "That's what I love about you, Eva. You fight. But even the wildest flames can be smothered."
He gestured to the guards in the corner. "Take her to the tower. No food. No water. Let's see how much fire she has left after a few days."
The guards grabbed her roughly.
Eva thrashed, kicking one of them hard in the shin. He cursed, but Magnus only smirked.
"Yes," he murmured as they dragged her away, "fight while you still can."
---
Lucian's Wrath
Meanwhile, at the resistance hideout, the air was thick with tension.
Lucian stormed into the cathedral, his face carved from stone, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.
"Where. Is. She?"
Tobias and Gareth exchanged uneasy glances. No one had seen Eva since last night.
Then, a scout ran in, out of breath. "We have a problem."
Lucian turned sharply. "What?"
The scout swallowed hard. "Eva… she's been taken."
Silence.
The words hung in the air like a curse.
Then—
A crash.
Lucian had slammed his fist into the table, shattering a wooden goblet to splinters. His face was no longer unreadable. It was fury. Pure, unrelenting fury.
Magnus had crossed the line.
Tobias cursed under his breath, rubbing his temples. "That son of a—"
"He's going to kill her," Gareth said grimly.
Lucian's head snapped up. "No, he won't," he growled. "Magnus wants power. Killing Eva won't give him that. But he will break her if we don't stop him."
His hand trembled as he gripped the edge of the table. He had spent so long trying to keep his emotions locked away, pretending Eva's stubbornness was nothing but an irritation—
But the thought of Magnus laying a hand on her—of hurting her—made something snap inside him.
Lucian turned to the men. "Get the fastest horses. Gather our best fighters. We leave tonight."
Tobias nodded, for once not making a joke. "I'm in."
Gareth adjusted his belt. "Me too."
Isolde, standing at the back, spoke up. "We all are."
Lucian's fists unclenched slightly. He exhaled, steadying himself.
"Good," he said. "Because we're going to burn Magnus to the ground."