Chapter 82: When The Fear Starts Taking Roots

[Imperial Palace—Emperor’s Chamber—Later]

The darkness released them without warning; one moment, Kael was surrounded by the golden desert of the realm between mortal and immortal.

Next, his feet touched cold marble as he staggered.

Lytharion caught him immediately, one arm wrapped firmly around Kael’s waist while the other steadied his shoulder, pulling him against his chest before he could lose his balance.

Kael inhaled sharply; the familiar scent of darkness surrounded him again. They were back in the Imperial Palace.

The emperor’s chamber was exactly as they had left it.

The tall bronze lamps still burned beside the walls. Incense drifted lazily toward the carved ceiling, carrying the faint scent of cedar and myrrh. Beyond the enormous windows, the night sky stretched over Qashmar, the capital glowing beneath the stars.

For several heartbeats, neither of them spoke. Kael simply stood there in Lytharion’s arms; his heart was still racing, not because of the journey through the shadows but because of Shamash’s final words.

Even if that means ending the Lord of Darkness.

The words had lodged themselves inside Kael’s mind like a blade; he slowly lifted his head.

Lytharion was already looking at him; the terrible fury that had consumed the Shadow King moments ago was gone. In its place was the familiar softness Kael had come to recognize only when those golden eyes rested upon him.

Lytharion raised his hand and gently brushed his thumb across Kael’s cheek. “Are you hurt, beloved?”

Kael shook his head.

“No.”

“Then why do you look as though the heavens themselves have fallen upon your shoulders?”

Kael stared at him; for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. How could he explain the fear tightening around his heart? How could he tell Lytharion that hearing someone speak of his death had awakened something terrible inside him?

The fear of losing him and the fear of history repeating itself, which he did not remember at all.

The fear that the blood-red moon Kael had seen in his dreams was not merely a memory of the past but a warning of what awaited them again.

Instead of answering, Kael stepped forward and wrapped both arms around Lytharion.

He held him tightly, so tightly that his fingers curled into the black fabric of the Shadow King’s robes. Lytharion went still for a moment, then his expression softened.

One hand settled gently against the back of Kael’s head, the other wrapped around his waist. Kael buried his face against his chest as his voice came barely audible.

“Do not leave my side.”

Lytharion’s fingers slowly moved through his hair. “Beloved…”

“Promise me.”

There was something in Kael’s voice that made Lytharion’s expression change.

He lowered his head and pressed a slow kiss against Kael’s hair; his voice was quiet, but there was an ancient certainty behind it.

“I will not, not in this life.”

Kael’s arms tightened around him. “Not in any life.”

Lytharion’s hand gently ruffled the back of Kael’s head, trying to ease the tension that had settled into his body.

“In this lifetime,” he murmured, “only death itself could separate us.”

Kael immediately flinched, his arms tightened around Lytharion as though the very words had wounded him.

“Please…” His voice broke slightly. “Do not say that.”

Lytharion fell silent. Kael pressed his face harder against him. “Do not speak of your death.”

There was no command in his voice, only fear.

A fear Lytharion had never wanted to hear.

The Shadow King slowly closed his eyes; he understood, and he remembered too. He had lived with that pain for ages. A blood-red moon, a dying woman, and his beloved slipping away in his arms.

A sword buried in flesh and the unbearable silence that had followed. He had lived with that memory for a thousand years; he knew better than anyone what it meant to lose the person who was everything.

Lytharion lowered his head and kissed Kael’s temple.

“I am here.”

Another kiss.

“Look at me.”

Kael slowly lifted his head. Lytharion gently held his face between both hands, and those golden eyes held his completely.

“I am here, Kael. I am not the man you lost in that other life.” Kael’s eyes trembled, and Lytharion’s thumb brushed slowly beneath Kael’s eyes. “And you are not the woman I buried beneath that blood-red moon; that fate has already happened. It does not command this life.”

Kael stared at him. “But what if—”

“No.”

Lytharion interrupted gently, not harshly, simply with absolute certainty. He leaned closer until their foreheads touched.

“Do not give your heart to things that have not happened; prophecy is not destiny.” His golden eyes darkened. “And fear is not a vision.”

Kael’s breathing slowly steadied. Lytharion whispered, “You are here.”

His hand moved to Kael’s chest.

“Your heart is beating.” Then he placed his own hand against his chest. “And mine is beating beside yours; that is the only prophecy I care to hear tonight.”

Kael almost smiled, but the fear had already taken root. He looked at Lytharion again.

“What if they really come for you?”

Lytharion’s expression became still. “Then they will come.”

“You say that too easily.”

“I have faced gods before.”

“But there are many of them, and they want you or me dead.”

“I know.”

Kael’s fingers tightened around the front of his robe. “Then how can you stand there so calmly?”

Lytharion looked at him for a long moment, then he smiled, not the cold smile of the Shadow King and not the terrifying smile he had shown Shamash. It was simply the smile of a husband trying to soothe the fear of the person he loved.

“Because you are standing in my arms.”

Kael’s eyes softened as Lytharion pulled him closer.

“And as long as I can hold you… I have not lost.”

Kael closed his eyes for a while; neither of them spoke.

The palace was silent around them.

Beyond the great windows, the lamps of Qashmar flickered beneath the vast Mesopotamian night. The ziggurats stood like dark mountains against the stars, their ancient temples watching over the sleeping empire.

Yet somewhere beyond those stars, the gods were gathering. Kael knew it, and Lytharion knew it.

And perhaps that was what frightened him most because for the first time, Kael understood that the danger was no longer hidden in shadows.

It had a name. It had a purpose, and it had begun to look toward him.

Kael opened his eyes; he still did not let Lytharion go.

The Shadow King noticed, and he said nothing. He simply held him closer because beneath all the divine power, beneath the ancient titles and immortal strength, Lytharion understood what Kael could not yet say aloud.

The Emperor of Qashmar was afraid of waking one morning to an empty bed and discovering that the man who had promised to remain beside him had vanished into the darkness forever.

And that fear—Lytharion would carry with him quietly like an oath, like a prayer, and like a promise carved into the oldest stone of heaven.

They had already taken him once; they would not take him again.

***

[Later — Council Chamber]

The bronze doors of the Council Chamber opened beneath the watchful eyes of the imperial guards.

At the far end of the chamber, Kael sat on his throne, and his chest felt hollow. His fingers rested against the arm of the throne.

Even if that means ending the Lord of Darkness.

The words returned again.

Kael’s jaw tightened; he forced himself to look toward the council.

Grand Duke Lior was seated among the senior nobles. Duke Lucein sat beside him, while Captain Cedric stood near the center of the chamber with several imperial officers.

A large collection of scrolls, ledgers, sealed documents, and wooden tablets covered the table before them.

“The investigation into House Voss has progressed,” Grand Duke Lior spoke, and continued, “We have completed the first examination of the Voss estates and their financial holdings; their primary estate, three secondary properties, two fortified residences, and their northern hunting grounds have been sealed under imperial authority.”

Kael stared at him.

The minister continued.

“Their treasury contained approximately six hundred and forty thousand gold shekels, along with silver reserves, precious stones, ceremonial weapons, and several ancient relics; we have also discovered extensive grain stores.”

“How much?” Lior asked.

“Enough to supply one of the eastern provinces for nearly a year.”

The council murmured. Kael heard the words, but they barely registered. His gaze had drifted toward one of the windows; beyond the carved lattice, the afternoon sun illuminated the distant ziggurats.

Kael’s fingers slowly curled in fear.

“Your Majesty?”

Kael blinked; the minister was looking directly at him.

“My apologies.”

The room fell silent, and the minister lowered his head. “I was saying that the Voss family also possessed several properties registered under intermediaries.”

“Seize them.”

Kael answered immediately.

“Yes, Majesty.”

“Any property connected to House Voss through servants, merchants, distant relatives, or shell accounts is to remain sealed until the investigation is complete.”

Captain Cedric nodded. “It has already begun.”

Lior leaned forward.

“There is something else.”

Kael looked toward him. Lior placed a small wooden tablet on the table.

“We discovered records indicating that House Voss had been purchasing large quantities of iron, horses, and military supplies over the past two years.”

Kael’s expression sharpened slightly. “For what purpose?”

“We don’t know yet.”

Cedric answered. “Some of the purchases were disguised as agricultural equipment. Others were transported through merchant caravans.”

Kael’s gaze drifted again; the words became distant. The council continued speaking, but their voices seemed to come from somewhere far away; his thoughts returned to the realm between mortal and immortal.

To Shamash, to the blood-red moon, and to Lytharion standing before him like a wall between Kael and the entire universe.

Kael swallowed.

“Your Majesty?”

He looked up again; everyone was staring at him. Grand Duke Lior’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you well?”

Kael straightened.

“I am fine.”

Lior did not look convinced, but he did not press the matter. The minister continued.

“We also found correspondence between House Voss and several minor noble families.”

“Names?”

A list was read aloud.

Kael listened at least; he tried to, the names blurred together as his thoughts were elsewhere.

What if the gods truly came? What if Lytharion was injured? What if the prophecy wasn’t about Kael’s child destroying the Wolf Clan at all? What if Shamash had only seen part of it? And what if the gods had already begun moving?

For the first time since becoming mate of Lord of Darkness and the Emperor of Qashmar, both the throne and the power beneath him felt less like a seat of power…and more like a battlefield.