The echo of Marcellus's words hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.
"It was meant to change the world."
Elara felt Lucien stiffen beside her, his breath uneven, the pain of his wounds still trembling through their bond. She tightened her grip on his hands—not to hold him back, but to ground him.
To ground them both.
"What do you mean?" Elara asked, her voice steady despite the trembling in her chest. "Why would fate put us together if you all treated it like a curse?"
Marcellus stepped forward slowly, as if approaching a wild flame.
"Because," he said, "power that can heal the world… can also end it. A bond like yours either brings salvation—"
His eyes shifted to Lucien.
"—or destruction."
Lucien growled softly, exhaustion pulling at the edges of his voice. "Your people have tried to destroy me for centuries, and yet I am the danger?"
"You," Marcellus said, pointing at him, "were forged in darkness. And she—"
His eyes returned to Elara, filled with both awe and fear.
"—was forged in light. Light does not belong with shadow. Nature never intended such unity."
Elara stepped in front of Lucien protectively. "Nature did. Or fate wouldn't have bound us."
"Fate is not always merciful," Marcellus whispered.
The chamber fell silent again.
Lucien's hand slid weakly to Elara's wrist. His voice was low but steady, rough with pain.
"I won't let them take you from me. Not now. Not ever."
Elara knelt beside him, her forehead touching his. "I'm not leaving you, Lucien."
Elias cleared his throat sharply from the entrance. "We don't have time for this. The Elders will wake soon—and when they do, they'll come with reinforcements."
Marcellus snapped, "You dare interrupt—"
"Yes," Elias cut in. "Because you can stand here trembling about prophecy, but Elara and Lucien will die if we don't move."
Lucien tried to push himself up—and nearly collapsed.
Elara caught him, slipping her arm around his waist.
His voice was barely a whisper. "I can walk."
"No," she said firmly. "You don't have to pretend you're invincible."
His lips twitched in a faint smile—painful, but real.
Elias moved forward. "There's a hidden passage that leads out of the lower chambers. If we get to it before the Elders regroup, we can escape the Sanctuary."
Marcellus's eyes widened. "Elias—don't you dare—"
"Stop pretending we don't see what's happening," Elias said sharply. "Look at her—look at him. Whether you like it or not, the prophecy is already unfolding."
Elara felt Lucien tense. He whispered, "They will hunt us everywhere if we flee."
"Yes," Elias replied. "But if you stay… you won't survive the next binding."
Elara swallowed hard.
Lucien's wounds still smoked from the silver. His clothes were torn, his skin pale and trembling. If the Elders performed another ritual, his immortal body wouldn't hold.
She couldn't let him be hurt again.
She wouldn't.
"Elara." Marcellus's voice softened, as though speaking to a child who didn't understand the danger. "If you go with him… you may unleash powers you cannot control."
She raised her chin. "Then teach me."
Marcellus blinked. "Teach you?"
"Yes," she said. "If I'm truly the Awakener… then I need guidance. Not chains. Not fear."
A long silence.
Finally, Marcellus whispered, "You don't understand what you're asking."
"I understand more than you think," she said. "My powers awakened because of love—not hatred. Not destruction. And I will not let fear determine who I'm allowed to care about."
Lucien's breath caught softly.
Elias nodded approvingly. "She's already stronger than all of you think."
But Marcellus shook his head. His voice trembled—not with anger, but with sorrow.
"Elara… if you leave now, the Sanctuary will brand you a traitor. A danger. You will not be welcomed again."
She took Lucien's hand and helped him stand, despite his weight pressing heavily against her.
"Then I'll build my own path," she whispered.
Lucien's eyes softened with a depth she had never seen—fear, hope, love tangled together.
Marcellus took one step toward her. "Child… if the prophecy is misunderstood… if your bond spirals into darkness… you might bring about an extinction."
Elara looked back at him, voice unwavering.
"Then help me make sure I don't."
Marcellus froze.
Because for the first time, he saw not a threat—not a weapon.
But a leader.
A force.
A destiny.
Lucien squeezed her hand weakly. "Elara… you shouldn't choose exile for me."
"I'm not choosing exile," she whispered. "I'm choosing you."
His eyes glowed faintly. "Even if the world fears what we are?"
"Yes. Because I don't fear you."
A breathless silence.
Elias moved to the back wall, pushing aside a slab of stone that revealed a narrow, torch-lit passage.
"Time's up. If you're going—go now."
Lucien glanced at her. "This choice will change everything."
"I know," she said, guiding his arm around her shoulders.
Then she looked back at Marcellus one last time.
"I'm not your weapon. I'm not your prophecy. I'm Elara. And whatever fate thinks it has planned for me…"
Her eyes glowed gold.
"…I'll rewrite it myself."
Marcellus stepped back, something breaking in his expression.
Respect.
Fear.
Surrender.
"Go," he said quietly. "Before they wake."
Elara nodded once.
She and Lucien stepped into the narrow passage, Elias slipping in behind them and sealing the stone door so no one could follow.
As they descended into the darkness, Lucien spoke softly, leaning into her.
"Elara… thank you."
"For what?"
"For choosing me… even when it costs you everything."
She shook her head gently.
"It doesn't cost me everything," she whispered. "It gives me a purpose."
He closed his eyes, overwhelmed.
And together, bruised, hunted, and bound by fate they barely understood, they disappeared into the shadows—
Not running away.
But running toward a future they would fight for.