The storm above had turned violent.
Violet lightning danced across the sky, thunder rolling over the trees like the roar of some ancient beast awakening. The wind howled as Kael, Diana, and Ciena stood at the cliff's base, staring up at the mouth of the cave carved into the mountainside.
And there she was.
The succubus floated down like a shadow with wings—unhurried, confident, her curves bathed in flickering arcane light. Her long hair flowed unnaturally with the wind, her smile laced with venom and amusement.
"How brave," she purred, eyes gleaming. "And how *predictable*."
Kael raised his sword, the blade glowing faintly. "Where is he?"
The succubus hovered just above the cliff's ledge, peering down at them with mock innocence. "The boy? Oh… *he's inside*. Still breathing. Still *delicious.*"
Diana's heart twisted. Her grip on her wand tightened. "You monster."
The succubus tilted her head, feigning offense. "Such strong words for someone who left him behind."
Lightning cracked, casting eerie shadows across their faces. Ciena stepped forward, runes already glowing in her hands.
"We came to end this."
"You came to *die,*" the succubus replied sweetly.
Without warning, her wings flared open—wide and dark, like the spread of a great vulture—and with a flick of her hand, a wave of pressure slammed into them.
Kael braced his shield just in time. Diana was pushed back a step. Ciena dug her heels in, hands glowing brighter to counter it.
"Rein was never part of this!" Diana shouted, fury sharpening her voice. "Let him go!"
The succubus descended slightly, smirking. "He came to *me*, sweet girl. And I gave him what he didn't even know he wanted. Again. And again. And again."
"Shut your damn mouth," Kael growled.
The succubus clicked her tongue. "Tsk. So impatient. Don't you want to know how he *screamed* both with pleasure and despair?"
Ciena's eyes flared. "One more word, and I'll burn it from your lips."
"Oh," the succubus said, her voice dropping into something hungry, "but you're *already too late.*"
She turned midair, laughing as she began to drift back toward the cavern's maw.
Ciena stepped forward, arcane light rising from her hands. "We're here to bring him back."
The succubus's smile widened. "Oh, but to reach him, you'll have to find yourselves first."
Thunder cracked. The ground beneath their feet trembled.
"Love is such a fragile little thing," she whispered, floating higher. "Let's see what happens when it's peeled apart."
She lifted her hand—fingers glowing with a cruel light—and snapped.
Instantly, the world twisted.
Kael blinked and found himself alone. The forest around him was gone, replaced by a broken battlefield—bodies strewn across the mud, all wearing the same armor as his old comrades. His brother's face stared blankly at him, unmoving.
Diana staggered backward into a hallway from her past—dim torches, blood-stained stone, and the cold emptiness of her family's old estate. Her sister's voice echoed down the corridor.
And Ciena gasped as she stood in front of her younger self—barefoot, trembling, staring at the spell that had once killed someone she loved.
Each of them was trapped.
And deep in the heart of the succubus's lair, Rein stirred.
There was a chill in the room that hadn't been there before.
Rein stirred, his limbs aching with exhaustion, skin slick with sweat, his throat dry. He blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the dull violet light that still floated above, like it was watching him. The scent of sex, blood, and death lingered in the air—familiar now, horrifyingly so.
He lay still for a moment, waiting for the pounding in his head to ease, for his stomach to stop twisting. His body wasn't broken. No bruises. No gashes. But he felt drained, like she had wrung every drop of energy from him, over and over until there was barely anything left.
He turned his head.
The silence was deafening.
Where once there had been boys—moaning, crying, begging—there were only bodies now. Still. Cold. Gone.
All except one.
"Evan…" he rasped.
The name left his mouth like a plea. He forced himself upright, shaking, his hands slipping on the sweat-damp sheets. His legs dangled off the edge of the bed, too heavy to move, but he pushed through it. Crawled. Slowly. Every breath was a battle, every inch gained a war.
Evan was lying nearby, face pale, chest barely rising and falling. His lips were parted, dry and cracked. A faint sound came from his throat—a wheeze, maybe a whisper.
Rein's hand hovered uncertainly above him. "You're… still here," he murmured, voice cracking. "Hang on. Please."
He wanted to give him warmth. Magic. Something.
But nothing came.
His hands were cold. Useless.
Tears welled in his eyes—not because of the pain, but because of the helplessness. Because for all the times he'd survived, endured, come back from the dead, he couldn't do the one thing that mattered.
He leaned forward and buried his face into Evan's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry I can't help you."
That's when he saw them.
His clothes. Tossed to the side of the room, carelessly crumpled atop the now-still forms of the other boys. A cruel afterthought. Her message was clear—you are mine, and they were nothing.
Rein's jaw clenched. His breath hitched as he pulled himself toward them. Every motion sent his muscles screaming. His fingertips brushed fabric, still warm with the heat of his skin.
And beneath it—the eyes of a boy long dead, staring past him into nothing.
He closed them with shaking fingers.
Then, clutching his shirt to his chest, Rein dragged himself back toward Evan.
He couldn't protect him with strength.
But maybe—maybe he could keep him warm.