Chapter 216
Choose Carefully
The moment they stepped out of the dungeon, the air changed. It was subtle at first. A pressure that pressed against the skin as though the palace itself had drawn a slow, uneasy breath.
The torches lining the stone corridor flickered violently, their flames bending inward instead of dancing upward. Shadows stretched too long, clinging to the walls like living things.
Althea stumbled, her knees nearly giving out. Gavriel was instantly at her side, steadying her with a firm hand. Zander moved just as quickly, his eyes scanned the corridor as if he sensed what was coming before it fully revealed itself.
Then hurried footsteps echoed through the hall.
“Your Majesty!”
Simon came running toward them, his armor smeared with ash and dark stains that did not look like blood. His expression was strained, his breathing uneven, panic was barely contained in his expression.
“What happened?” Gavriel demanded.
“The captives. All of them. Something is wrong.”
Zander’s brows knitted. “Wrong how?”
“They’re… acting possessed,” Simon said, swallowing hard. “They managed to get out from the enchanted iron chains. They are growling, laughing and their eyes were all pitched black. Some are chanting in a language we don’t recognize. Others are attacking the guards. The holding wing is in chaos.”
Gavriel’s jaw tightened. “What the hell is going on?” he growled.
Before anyone could answer, a deep, mocking chuckle echoed through the corridor. It did not come from one direction. It came from everywhere.
The torches flared bright blue for a brief second, then dimmed, casting the hall in a sickly twilight. The temperature dropped sharply, frost creeping along the stone floor beneath their feet.
Zander’s hand went to his side instinctively, magic stirring beneath his skin. Gavriel pulled Althea closer to him, his body turning slightly so he stood between her and the unseen threat.
Then footsteps approached from the far end of the corridor, slow, deliberate and unhurried. A familiar figure emerged from the shadows.
“Midas?” Simon whispered in disbelief.
The man who stepped into the torchlight wore Midas’s face. His body. His posture. But his eyes were wrong.
They burned a deep crimson, glowing faintly from within, as if fire lived behind them. Veins of black crept along his neck and disappeared beneath his collar. When he smiled, it was too wide, too knowing, stretching his lips in a way that did not belong to any human.
“Oh, do not look so afraid,” the thing inside Midas said, his voice layered, as if several voices spoke at once. “I merely borrowed this vessel.”
Gavriel stepped forward, his presence commanding and lethal. “Release him. Now.”
The thing laughed again. “You may call me Hades.”
The name alone carried weight and it was familiar. Althea gasped as she weakly muttered, “That was the name they mentioned… The Abyssal Order.”
“A demon,” Zander muttered.
“Ah, very good,” Hades replied, tilting Midas’s head toward Zander. “Still sharp. Still burning.”
Without warning, dark tendrils of mist poured from Hades’s body, spreading across the corridor like spilled ink. The shadows on the walls peeled away, forming shapes that writhed and twisted.
From deeper within the palace, screams echoed. Simon turned pale. “He’s possessing them. All of them.”
“Yes,” Hades said pleasantly. “They were already broken. Already hungry. I merely opened the door.”
He lifted a hand, and the dark mist surged forward, stopping only inches from Gavriel and Althea.
“Do not resist,” Hades said softly. “This is what you were all heading toward anyway. Chaos. Greed. Power. I am simply… accelerating the process.”
Gavriel snarled, his aura flaring. “You will leave my kingdom.”
Hades ignored him completely. Instead, his gaze locked onto Althea.
“There you are,” he murmured. “The girl who walks between ruin and salvation.”
Althea felt it then. A pull. Not physical, but something deeper. Something cold brushing against her mind, testing her defenses the way one tests thin ice.
Her heart pounded.
“Do you feel it?” Hades asked gently. “The darkness that clings to you. The grief. The loss. The rage you bury so neatly beneath duty and kindness.”
“Stay out of her head,” Gavriel snapped.
Hades chuckled. “You may guard her body, Alpha King, but her soul? That is another matter.”
His gaze shifted, slowly, deliberately, toward Zander.
“And you,” Hades continued. “Oh, you burn so brightly. Vengeance coils inside you like a starving beast. You have lost much. You have sacrificed much. And still, they demand more.”
Zander clenched his jaw, magic surging beneath his skin despite his effort to restrain it.“You think you know me,” Zander said coldly.
“I know what you hide,” Hades replied. “The resentment. The exhaustion. The desire to tear this broken world apart and rebuild it properly. Honestly.”
The mist thickened, curling around both Althea and Zander like invisible chains.
“You both carry my darkness,” Hades said. “Not by choice, but by fate. Ancient magic. Blood. Loss. It stains you whether you wish it or not.”
Althea shook her head. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” Hades asked softly. “Tell me, child. Has this world ever been kind to you?”
Her breath caught.
Images flooded her mind without her permission. Her mother’s death. The ambush. Blood on the snow. Years of manipulation. Being claimed. Being feared. Being blamed for sins she did not commit.
“You lost everything,” Hades continued, his voice soothing, coaxing. “And still you stand here, expected to forgive. To heal. To endure.”
His eyes flicked back to Zander. “And you are expected to obey. To protect a kingdom that would cast you aside the moment you become inconvenient.”
The mist pulsed, feeding on their silence.
“Join me,” Hades said. “Help me spread truth. Let the world burn away its lies. Let desire rule. Let power decide. You will never be powerless again.”
“No,” Gavriel growled. His aura exploded outward, forcing the mist back. “You will not tempt them.”
Hades laughed. “You think this is temptation? No, Alpha King. This is inevitability.”
Althea’s head throbbed. Her vision blurred, her knees weakening. Then something stirred within her memory. A whisper, ancient words spoken long before she understood their meaning.
The prophecy.
She saw it clearly now, as if it had been waiting for this moment to awaken. Two paths. One light. One shadow. One choice that would tip the world toward ruin or redemption.
A single anchor. Either her. Or Zander. Her breath came sharp as realization settled in her chest. This was not about conquest. It was about choice.
Hades watched her closely, his smile widening. “Ah. You remember.”
Althea lifted her head slowly, tears brimming in her eyes but her gaze steady. “You’re wrong about one thing,” she said quietly.
Hades tilted his head. “Oh?”
“This world may be cruel,” Althea continued, her voice trembling but firm. “But it is not beyond saving.”
The mist recoiled slightly. Zander glanced at her, surprise flickering across his face.
“And neither am I,” she added.
Hades’s smile did not fade. But his eyes darkened.
“Then choose carefully,” he said. “Because one of you must fall.”
The palace trembled as the possessed screams grew louder, the darkness spreading faster.
And Althea knew, with terrifying certainty, that the fate of the world had just begun to tilt