When Love Turns to Ash Novel – Chapter 6
Damien giggled. “He looks like a beggar, Father.”
“Seraphina is… indisposed,” Julian said, enjoying Silas’s prone state. “She’s busy preparing for the Gala. And, of course, she’s quite distraught by your violent outburst.”
He knelt, his face close to Silas’s. “She’s finally seeing you for what you are. A relic. A mistake.”
Then, Julian’s eyes gleamed with a particular, venomous triumph.
“You know, Silas, you never really understood Seraphina. Or her commitments.”
He paused, savoring the moment.
“Damien here,” Julian said, gesturing to the boy, “isn’t just my son. He’s Seraphina’s too.”
Silas stared, the words hitting him with the force of another blow.
“Conceived long before she ever met you, of course,” Julian continued smoothly. “A youthful indiscretion, perhaps. Or a dynastic necessity within certain circles of the Order. Something she chose to hide from you. She thought you too… simple… to understand.”
Damien puffed out his chest. “That’s right. She’s my real mother.”
He then turned to Willow. “And you’re just a nobody. My mother doesn’t want you.”
Willow, weak from hunger and fear, suddenly lunged at Damien, a small, desperate cry tearing from her throat. “She does! You’re a liar!”
It was a child’s futile outburst, but Damien shrieked in feigned terror. “Father, she’s attacking me! Like he attacked you!”
As if on cue, Seraphina appeared in the doorway. Her face was cold, impassive.
She saw Willow, small and fierce, near Damien who was cowering behind Julian.
“Enough!” Seraphina’s voice was like ice.
She strode forward, not to comfort Willow, not to question, but to punish.
In her hand was a small, intricate device, something Silas had never seen before. An arcane tool of the Order.
“You will learn discipline,” Seraphina said, her eyes fixed on Willow.
“Seraphina, no!” Silas tried to rise, to shield Willow, but his body wouldn’t obey. Pain lanced through him.
Seraphina ignored him. She aimed the device at Willow.
A thin beam of dark energy shot out.
Willow screamed, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony that would haunt Silas forever.
She clutched her eyes, falling to the ground, writhing.
When she finally lifted her hands, her eyes… they were ruined. Burned. Blinded.
Seraphina looked down at her daughter, her expression unreadable, then turned and walked away without a word.
Julian smirked, then followed her, Damien trotting after him.
Silas crawled to Willow, gathering her into his arms. She was sobbing, her small body trembling uncontrollably.
He held her, rocking her gently, a single, cold tear tracing a path down his own cheek.
The ember of his power, deep inside, roared into a flame.
The Solstice Gala.
It was tomorrow.
His timing. Her reckoning.