ELARA'S POV
I can't see anything in these tunnels except Isabella's silver hair glowing faintly ahead of me like a ghost leading us to our graves.
My lungs burn. My legs scream. Behind us, soldiers' torches paint dancing shadows on the stone walls, getting closer with every second.
"Faster!" Isabella hisses.
"I'm trying!" But my body is exhausted from the pregnancy I just discovered, from the explosion yesterday, from learning my entire life is a lie.
Vincent grabs my hand and pulls me forward. I want to jerk away—I'm still furious about the memory manipulation, about the secret marriage—but I need his help or I'll collapse.
Our magical bond pulses between our joined hands. I can feel his fear mixing with mine, his determination pushing strength into my tired muscles. I hate that it helps. I hate that some part of me craves his touch even as I want to strangle him.
"There!" Isabella points ahead where a sliver of light breaks the darkness.
We burst through a hidden doorway and stumble into a world I didn't know existed.
The Velvet Underground.
It's a massive cavern—no, an entire city carved beneath the capital. Buildings made of stone rise from the rocky ground. Bridges crisscross overhead. And everywhere, colored lanterns cast red and purple and green light over everything like we've fallen into a fever dream.
"Keep moving," Vincent urges, pulling me into the crowd.
People fill the streets—more people than I've ever seen in one place. But these aren't normal citizens. A woman with scales on her arms sells glowing potions. A man with wolf eyes haggles over a cage of singing birds. Two children with matching tattoos pick pockets while their victims don't notice.
"What is this place?" I breathe.
"Home to everyone the Queen's laws forgot," Isabella says grimly. "Criminals, rebels, illegal magic users. Everyone she wants dead or imprisoned lives down here."
A merchant calls out: "Memories for sale! Your first kiss! Your happiest day! Forget your worst trauma—only ten silver!"
I stop walking. "They sell memories?"
"They sell everything." Vincent's hand tightens on mine. "Stay close. This place is dangerous for outsiders."
"More dangerous than soldiers trying to kill us?"
"Different dangerous."
We push through the crowds. I notice people staring at us—at Vincent specifically. They whisper and point. Some look afraid. Others look angry.
"Why are they looking at you like that?" I ask.
"Because they know who I am." Vincent's jaw is tight. "The Silver-Eyed Devil. The Queen's assassin. I've killed some of their friends."
Of course he has. Another reminder that the man I'm bonded to is a murderer.
Isabella leads us down a narrow alley away from the main street. We stop at a building with a hanging sign: "The Memory Parlor - Buy, Sell, Trade."
"This is where we'll find answers," Isabella says.
Vincent reaches for the door, but I grab his arm.
"Wait. Before we go in there—before I learn whatever terrible truth is waiting—I need to know something." I look him straight in his storm-gray eyes. "The night you married me without my knowledge. Did you love me? Or was I just a mission?"
The question hangs between us like smoke.
Vincent opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.
"I don't know," he finally admits. "I was half-drunk. You were crying about nightmares. We talked for hours about loss and loneliness. When you suggested the blood binding ritual—"
"I suggested it?"
"You said you were tired of being alone. That you wanted to belong to someone who understood pain." His eyes are tortured. "I should have said no. I should have stopped you. But I was selfish. I wanted that connection too. And yes, I knew binding to you would give me access to your power. So maybe it was both. Maybe I loved you and used you at the same time."
The honesty hurts more than a lie would.
Isabella makes an impatient noise. "Have this lovers' quarrel later. We need to move."
She pushes open the door.
Inside, the Memory Parlor is dimly lit with candles. Shelves line the walls, filled with glass bottles containing swirling, glowing mist—memories trapped and preserved. A counter sits in the center, and behind it stands a woman wearing a white porcelain mask that covers her entire face.
"Well, well," the woman says. Her voice is melodic but strange, like three voices speaking at once. "What brings the Silver-Eyed Devil to my establishment?"
"Raven." Vincent nods respectfully. "We need your services."
The masked woman—Raven—tilts her head. Her mask is blank and featureless, but I feel her staring at me.
"And who is this?" Raven moves around the counter with inhuman grace. Her mask catches the candlelight, making it seem to shift and change. "Wait. That pendant..."
She reaches toward my neck where the phoenix pendant hangs.
I step back. "Don't touch me."
"My, my." Raven's voice fills with amusement. "The Silver-Eyed Devil brought me a Phoenix. How very interesting."
"I'm not a phoenix," I say automatically. "I'm just—"
"You're wearing the Phoenix Seal." Raven points at my pendant. "Only members of the royal Phoenix bloodline can wear that without it burning their skin. Which means you, girl, are royalty. The kind everyone thought was extinct."
"How do you know so much about it?" Isabella demands.
Raven's masked face turns toward my sister. "Because I was the one who stored the Phoenix family's memories before the coup. I've been keeping them safe for nineteen years, waiting for an heir to claim them."
My heart pounds. "You have my memories? My real memories from before I was twelve?"
"I have everyone's memories. Your parents, your siblings, your entire childhood in the palace." Raven moves closer. "But memories are expensive. What do you offer in trade?"
"Anything," I say immediately. "Whatever you want. I need to know who I am."
"Careful, little Phoenix." Raven's voice drops to a whisper. "Some people would kill for 'anything.' In the Underground, words have power."
Vincent steps between us. "Name your price, Raven. We'll negotiate fairly."
"Fair?" Raven laughs, and it sounds like broken glass. "There's nothing fair about what you did to this girl, Prince Vincent. You married her, stole her power, and erased her consent. Why would I help you?"
The room goes silent.
"You know?" I breathe.
"I know everything that happens in my city." Raven's mask seems to smile even though it has no mouth. "I know the Queen is hunting you. I know you're carrying a child with impossible bloodlines. I know—"
The door explodes inward.
Soldiers pour in, swords drawn, faces covered with masks of their own.
"NOBODY MOVE!" their captain shouts.
Raven moves faster than thought. She throws something at the ground—glass balls that shatter and release thick smoke. The entire shop fills with fog so dense I can't see my own hands.
"Run!" Raven's voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere. "Follow the blue lights!"
Glowing blue orbs appear in the smoke, leading deeper into the building.
Vincent's hand finds mine in the chaos. "Stay with me!"
"Where's Isabella?" I shout.
No answer.
We stumble through the smoke, following the blue lights. Behind us, soldiers curse and crash into furniture. The smoke is so thick they can't see us either.
We reach a back room. The blue lights lead to a trapdoor in the floor.
"Down!" Vincent throws it open and practically pushes me through.
I fall into darkness and land hard on something soft—cushions, maybe. Vincent drops beside me a second later. Above, I hear soldiers searching the shop, Raven's voice taunting them.
Then silence.
We're in a small underground chamber lit by a single lantern. The trapdoor above us is closed and hidden. No way to tell where we are or how to get back.
"Isabella," I gasp. "We lost her."
"She can take care of herself." Vincent pulls me to my feet. "We need to—"
A hand clamps over my mouth from behind.
I try to scream but the hand is too strong. Vincent reaches for his sword but freezes when a blade presses against my throat.
"Don't move, Prince," a man's voice says. "Or I'll paint these walls with Phoenix blood."
Vincent's eyes are wide with rage and fear. "Let her go."
"I don't think so." The man holding me shifts his grip. I can feel him trembling—not with fear, but with emotion. "I've been searching for her for nineteen years. I'm not letting her go now."
The blade leaves my throat. The hand leaves my mouth. I'm spun around to face my attacker.
He's tall, wearing dark clothes and a hood that shadows his face. But his eyes...
His eyes are the same silver-gold color as mine.
"Your Majesty," he whispers, and his voice cracks. "I've waited so long to find you."
He drops to one knee.
"My name is Kai. I was your bodyguard when you were a child. I'm the one who was supposed to die protecting you the night of the coup." He looks up at me with tears streaming down his face. "But I failed. I let them hurt you. I let them scatter your family. And I've spent every day since then trying to find you so I could beg your forgiveness."
I step back, overwhelmed. "I don't remember you."
"You wouldn't. Your memories were locked away." Kai stands slowly. "But I remember everything. And I can prove I'm telling the truth."
He rolls up his sleeve.
On his forearm is a scar in the shape of a phoenix—identical to a birthmark I have on my own shoulder. A birthmark only members of the royal guard would have known about.
"The Phoenix Guard," Vincent breathes. "You're one of them? I thought they all died."
"Most did." Kai's voice hardens. "But a few of us survived to serve our true Queen when she returned." He looks at me intensely. "Your Majesty, I know this is overwhelming. But you need to come with me right now. The Queen's soldiers aren't the only ones searching for you tonight."
"What do you mean?"
"The rebellion has mobilized. The criminal lords are fighting over who gets to control you. And there's a prophecy—"
"What prophecy?" I demand. Everyone keeps mentioning a prophecy.
Kai glances at Vincent, then back to me. "The prophecy that says the last Phoenix heir will either save the kingdom or burn it to ashes—depending on whose child she carries."
My hand instinctively moves to my stomach.
Kai's eyes follow the movement. His face goes pale.
"No," he whispers. "Please tell me you're not—"
"She's pregnant," Vincent says flatly. "With my child."
Kai stumbles backward like he's been shot. "Do you understand what you've done?" His voice rises to a shout. "An Ironhart-Phoenix child could rip reality apart! The prophecy says—"
The wall explodes.
Stone and dust fill the air. Through the hole steps someone I recognize instantly.
Queen Morgana.
She's not alone. Behind her stands Isabella—my sister—with a blade to her throat.
"Hello, son," Morgana says sweetly to Vincent. "Did you really think you could hide from me in my own city?" Her eyes find me. "And there you are. The little Phoenix who's been causing so much trouble."
Vincent moves in front of me. "Mother, don't—"
"Silence." Morgana's voice cracks like a whip. She looks at Isabella. "Your sister has been very helpful. She told me everything. The pregnancy. The blood binding. The prophecy." Her smile is terrifying. "Did you know your dear sister has been working for me all along?"
Isabella meets my eyes. There's no regret in her expression. No shame.
"I'm sorry, little sister," she says coldly. "But some of us actually remember what the Phoenix family stood for. And it wasn't breeding with our enemies."
The betrayal hits like a physical blow.
My own sister. The one I just found. She's been working for the Queen the whole time.
Morgana steps closer. "Now then. You're going to come with me quietly. You're going to let my blood mages extract that abomination growing inside you. And then you're going to watch while I execute your traitor husband for his crimes."
"No." The word comes from my mouth before I realize I'm speaking.
Heat builds in my chest. The pendant at my neck burns hot.
"Elara, don't," Vincent warns. "Your power is unstable. You'll kill us all."
But I can't stop it.
Fire erupts from my hands—not orange fire, but silver-white flames that make everyone shield their eyes.
The chamber fills with light and heat and power I can't control.
Morgana's eyes widen. "Impossible. She's awakening."
"GET DOWN!" Kai tackles me to the ground just as my power explodes outward.
The last thing I see before everything goes white is Vincent reaching for me, his mouth forming my name.
Then the world burns.