When Love Turns to Ash Novel – Chapter 9
“You want proof?” the Guardian’s voice was soft, almost gentle, which made it all the more terrifying.
He raised the Heartwood Staff, and the light from it intensified, projecting images into the air above them—shimmering, vivid scenes that played out like ghosts of truth for all to witness.
They saw Julian, in the Gauntlet, confessing his plots to Silas. His voice was dripping with malice as he revealed his intention to have Seraphina for himself, detailing the “accident” that Silas and Willow had narrowly escaped. They saw Julian admit Damien was his and Seraphina’s son—a truth hidden from Silas for years.
Then the worst—Seraphina herself, cold and distant, raising the arcane device. The flash of dark energy. Willow’s scream, high and raw. The images shifted, showing an even darker vision—an alternate timeline. In it, Julian’s original machinations had succeeded. Willow lay lifeless. Silas was butchered, left to die in agony. The horror of it all suffocated the room into complete silence.
Seraphina watched, her expression warping from confusion to horror, and finally, to devastation. Julian hadn’t just manipulated her. He had used her. Twisted her. Turned her into something she never meant to become.
Then the final vision—Julian, alone, gloating. Confessing how he used Seraphina, how easily she’d followed his lead.
Something snapped.
With a guttural cry of anguish and fury, Seraphina spun around. Julian took one look at her face and tried to flee. But she was faster.
She grabbed a ceremonial letter opener from a broken table nearby. It gleamed with ceremonial elegance but was still sharp. With a scream, she lunged and drove it into Julian’s chest. Once. Twice. Again. Again. Blood soaked through his shirt. He screamed once before crumpling at her feet.
Silence fell over the hall.
Seraphina dropped the blade. Her hands were shaking. She turned to face Silas, to face the being who had once been her husband.
“Silas…” Her voice broke. She staggered toward him, then fell to her knees. “He deceived me. He poisoned everything. But my heart—it was always yours. Always. Please… forgive me.”
She reached out, hands trembling, inching toward Willow.
The Guardian looked down at her. His eyes, once full of love, were now cold and unfeeling. He didn’t flinch.
“Your heart, Seraphina?” he asked quietly. “Let us speak of your choices.”
“You chose to bring Julian into our lives. You chose to listen to his poison. You watched me suffer and called it drama. You chose to look away when he twisted our truth into lies.”
He paused. The weight of his next words bore down on the room like thunder.
“And worst of all…” His voice dropped, deadly quiet. “You raised your hand against your own child. You blinded your daughter. That choice was yours. Not Julian’s.”
Seraphina collapsed fully to the ground, sobbing.
“I am no longer Silas,” he said. His voice had changed entirely—older, elemental, final. “I am the Guardian of the Wild. And Willow… she will heal, but not here. Not with you. Not in your world.”
He cradled Willow close. She stirred faintly, safe in his arms.
The Heartwood Staff blazed with light as he turned away from Seraphina. The doors at the end of the grand hall opened slowly, as if recognizing his departure as sacred.
He did not look back.
He did not pause.
And when the doors closed behind him, it was like the final heartbeat of a dead empire.
Seraphina Vance remained kneeling on the marble, surrounded by ghosts and blood, her pleas swallowed by the silence she had earned.