Chapter 90: Oaths Bound in Shadows
Seraphina’s laugh was a small, bitter thing. "What does that mean? He is the head, he is the heart. Destroy Luca and you tear the whole body down."
The master drew his hand across his beard thin, silver, a map of years and stepped forward until his shadow and hers braided.
He folded his fingers together and considered her like a chess player contemplating the board.
"Luca," he mused, "is not simply a man to be removed.
He is an axis, remove the axis and the wheel might still turn, driven by another force entirely.
You have been trying to cut through steel when what you need is to undermine the fire that tempers it."
Seraphina felt the trap of his words pull tight across her chest. "And what fires him? Tell me plainly."
The master’s eyes narrowed, and for the first time something like amusement or hunger glimmered there. "You want plain? There is nothing plain about bloodlines, Seraphina. There is nothing plain about fate." He leaned in closer, the candles making hollows beneath his cheekbones. "There is a girl.... His wife - Alessia."
At that name Seraphina’s breath hitched, small and sharp.
Her hand found the hilt of the dagger she carried, a useless gesture because the room was heavy with old magics and the blade would do nothing against what the master was about to say.
"She is the Red Moon blood child," he said. The words were low as a spell. "Not a prophecy in some dusty book, not a superstition for frightened women, she carries a lineage that the moon remembered first. It is old, it is cruel and It bends men to it without them knowing."
Seraphina felt something cold unspool in her gut. "If that is true, if Alessia is the source then she is a threat to them and to the evil of this world against them."
The thought came like thunder, sudden and inevitable. "Destroy her, and Luca collapses."
The master’s smile was a seam of shadow.
He folded his hands again and paced slowly around the circle, fingertips brushing the sigils as if reading a map only he understood.
"A dangerous thing," he murmured. "Necessary, perhaps, Necessary does not mean easy." He spoke of measures that tasted of winter. Poisons that wore masks of blessing, contracts written in blood that would not break at dawn, illusions that could turn friends into enemies.
He named alliances with corners of the world Seraphina had only ever heard of in whispers pacts that required a price in kind, a payment that would change those who paid.
Each suggestion was more dangerous than the last, and each fit neatly into the pattern she had been trying to weave for so long.
She listened, Her fingers tightened until her nails were white crescents.
"And when she is finally gone..... " Seraphina asked, the rest of the sentence hanging like a blade waiting to fall.
The master stopped at the centre of the room, the candlelight catching the silver at his throat.
He looked at her with deliberate calm and, as if savoring the inevitable collapse, said, "Once we get Alessia Luca is finished" he said touching his beards and laughing....
********
The night pressed heavy against the Morano estate, the silence broken only by Alessia’s uneven breaths as she pushed the window open.
Her heart raced, her fingers trembling.
"Who’s there?" she whispered, her voice a fragile thread cutting through the dark.
The figure remained still, cloaked in shadow. Then, with deliberate slowness, it lifted a trembling hand and scratched something across the fogged glass. her name. "Alessia"....
Her blood turned to ice.
Compelled by equal parts terror and curiosity, she stepped out of the room, leaving Luca behind in his fragile slumber.
The hallway seemed endless, the shadows stretching like claws.
When she neared the figure, the hand reached out, It looked Wrinkled. Hollowly and Ghostly.
It seized her wrist.
Alessia screamed, her knees buckling, the world tilting into darkness.
But before the floor could claim her, arms strong yet familiar caught her mid-fall.
A scent washed over her, musky and warm, the very essence of him.
Her eyes darted upward, wide and wet. "L-Luca?"
His gaze, heavy with exhaustion but burning with devotion, met hers. "Always with you, my love. Even in the silence of unconsciousness... my soul, my mind, they were awake only for you."
Her breath broke. "You shouldn’t be here. You are not strong enough yet... please, let’s go inside."
But Luca only smiled, a weary curve of lips that carried the weight of devotion.
He cupped her face with a hand wrapped in bandages. "The wounds you see... the doctors may bind them with cloth and salves. But the deeper ones, Alessia, those would be fully healed by the light you shall pour into me. You are my cure. My fire."
He leaned forward, bringing his lips close to hers, trembling with need.
Her resolve cracked, her heart colliding with his.
Their lips touched.
First tentative, then desperate.
A kiss that was not just a meeting of mouths but of broken souls stitching themselves whole again.
His breath mingled with hers, tasting of longing, of hunger, of a man who had clawed his way back to life for this one moment.
She gasped against him, her body trembling. But then she pulled back, her hand pressed gently to his chest. "No, Luca. I can’t. You are still healing. I can’t take advantage of you like this."
His dark eyes burned with fire, defying weakness. "No, amore mio. I am healed where it matters most.
Tonight, let me drink from you. Let me quench this thirst that only you can ease."
Before she could protest again, he lifted her into his arms.
She instinctively wrapped herself around him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her pulse wild.
His strength, though tempered by bandages, radiated through her.
Every touch was worship. Every kiss was fire.
She melted beneath him, her body arching into his, heat sparking with every stolen breath.
His whispers burned into her skin: "Mine, My queen, My light."
Her resistance crumbled beneath the storm of his devotion. And when his hunger consumed her, she gave herself to him completely, lost in the tidal wave of love and desire.
Their world was fire and shadow, every movement a vow, every sigh a confession.
The night stretched endlessly, filled with whispered prayers, fevered kisses, and the raw power of two souls finding home in each other’s arms.
Alessia’s tears mingled with her moans, not of sorrow but of release because in Luca’s embrace, she was both undone and remade.
And as dawn threatened to crawl across the horizon, Luca’s voice broke the silence, rough and heavy with truth.
"Alessia..." he breathed against her skin. "If I ever lose you, I lose myself. And I will burn the world before I let that happen."
But before she could answer, before she could whisper back the eternity of her love,
"You shouldn’t have let him wake, Alessia."Her blood froze as she thought within herself.
"Come and nourish me tonight, quench this thirst before it devours me." Luca reminded her as he slightly kisses her ears.
Her protest died as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
She clung to his neck, her thighs brushing his waist as he carried her upstairs to the bedroom, every step pressed his hardened length against her body, the heat of it searing even through layers of fabric.
By the time they reached their room, her body trembled in anticipation.
He set her on the bed, his gaze dark, hungry, reverent. "Mine," he whispered, before peeling her black top from her body and unhooking her red lace-bra.
The garments fell forgotten to the floor. His mouth descended immediately, lips closing over her breast, sucking with a hunger that made her arch her back.
His tongue circled, teased, then bit gently, sending shocks of pleasure rippling down her spine.
"Luca..." her moan broke like silk in the air.
His hands slid lower, unzipping her skirt, tearing away her lace panties until she lay bare beneath his gaze.
He kissed down her stomach, slow, burning trails, until he hovered at her heat.
One thick finger slid into her wetness, curling, stroking the spot that made her cry out.
Then another, he pumped them in and out, his mouth latching back onto her breasts, sucking harder, pressing his teeth.
"Squirt for me, amore," he groaned against her skin. "Let me taste your soul."
Her hips bucked helplessly as waves of wetness gushed around his fingers.
He withdrew slowly, licking the slickness from his hand with a wicked grin.
She reached for him then, unbuckling his belt, tugging down his pants. His length sprang free, thick, veined, glistening at the tip.
She gasped as his first hot release spilled across her, the sheer force of his need overwhelming.
Yet even then, he was still hard, throbbing in her grip.
"Relax, my queen." He pushed her gently down onto the sheets, parting her thighs with his body. "I’ll worship you until dawn."
The first thrust made her cry out, the fullness almost unbearable, yet exquisite.
He held her hands above her head, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he pounded into her, each stroke deep, claiming.
The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room, her moans rising higher with every thrust.
"Always tighter for me..." he growled, kissing her fiercely, tongue sliding against hers as he slammed deeper.
They shifted, her body flipped onto all fours. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her back to meet his every drive.
The bed shook with his pace, and she screamed his name, her nails clawing the sheets.
Then she climbed on top, straddling him, her breasts bouncing as she rode him, grinding, twisting, taking him deeper. He gripped her waist, thrusting upward into her until their bodies moved in a rhythm of pure fire.
He came again, and again, each release only hardening him further. "I will fuck you all night, my queen," he swore against her ear. "You’re feeding my soul with every cry."
By the time the first light of dawn kissed the curtains, Alessia lay beneath him, trembling, filled and refilled, every part of her aching yet sated.
Luca hovered over her, sweat dripping down his temple, his chest heaving. He kissed her swollen lips once more.
"You are my salvation, Alessia."
But just as she closed her eyes, a shadow shifted outside the window.
But been with luca made her feel safe, he was her biggest protection and safe haven.
*******
In ST thomas hospital,in garam. As jackson and his family into the ward where donato was in.
Jackson didn’t hesitate.
He pulled Donato into a fierce embrace, his arms tightening as though afraid that if he let go, his brother-in-arms might slip back into the abyss he had just crawled out of.
His voice cracked, heavy with relief and awe.
"I spoke with you... in the spirit world. Do you remember?"
For a heartbeat, silence pressed in.
Donato’s lips curved into a faint smile, fragile but sincere.
His voice was a low rasp, carrying gratitude that could never be measured.
"I remember. And I remember you. Thank you, Jackson.
For saving my life... for convincing your parents to come. Without you, I wouldn’t have opened my eyes again."
Jackson’s throat bobbed, words failing him, so he turned and pointed toward the figure standing behind him. His elder sister, wide-eyed and hesitant, lingered in the doorway as though uncertain of her place in this moment.
"She was there too," Jackson whispered. "Part of the team that brought you back."
Donato’s gaze softened. Slowly, he lifted his hand, fingers trembling but purposeful, offering a silent gesture of appreciation.
His eyes met hers, and though his strength was fractured, his gratitude was whole.
"Thank you," he said, the weight of his voice solemn. "I owe you both... more than I can ever repay."
Jackson’s mother stepped forward then, her presence quiet but unyielding. Her eyes, touched with both weariness and wisdom, lingered on Donato.
"No, Donato," she said gently. "Your brother Luca has already given us enough."
A shadow passed across Donato’s face, but he chuckled softly, the sound filled with both pride and unspoken fire.
"That’s my brother," he said. "Always giving, always shielding. But..." His voice dropped, his eyes sharpening with a promise only he could feel. "...I haven’t even started yet."
The doctor cleared his throat, stepping into the moment with clinical detachment. "Donato, your body has responded well. It’s time. You are strong enough to be discharged. Today, you can finally go home."
But Donato shook his head, slow and deliberate, his jaw tightening with defiance.
"No," he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the air like steel. "Not yet."
Confusion rippled across Jackson’s features. "Donato.... "
He raised a hand, silencing his friend. His gaze turned toward the figure standing a little apart from the rest, quiet yet radiant, like a flame resisting the wind.
"Go with my friend, Princess Elowen," Donato said firmly. "I still need to finish the mission I started."
The air shifted.
Even the walls seemed to lean closer, straining to catch the weight of +his words.
Elowen’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat.
For a long moment she stood frozen, torn between fear and the unshakable pull of destiny.
And then , with a courage that stunned even herself, she stepped forward.
Her voice rang out.. Clear, steady, yet trembling with the storm in her chest.
"Donato..." She drew in a sharp breath, her lips trembling into a vow. "I will go with you....