Chapter 60
Chapter 60
The abyss pulsed with energy — raw, living, and ancient. Emilia stood at its center, the storm inside her calmer now but still fiercely alive. Across from her, Calista knelt — beaten, but not broken. The once-imposing witch queen looked up, blood dripping from her lip, her eyes burning not with malice, but something Emilia hadn’t expected.
Sorrow.
"Do it," Calista whispered, voice rasping through the tension. "Strike me down. Finish what your blood demands."
Emilia’s hand trembled. She held the magic, the blade of bloodfire summoned from her veins, its tip glowing crimson like the last edge of sunset. But her body wouldn’t move. Her powers surged, urging her to deliver justice — but something in Calista’s gaze pulled her back.
"You don’t get to beg now," Emilia said, voice tight. "Not after what you did. The lives you ruined. Seraphine nearly died because of you."
Calista coughed, a dry, ragged sound. "You think I meant for any of this to happen? You think I wanted to destroy the bloodline ritual?"
"You marked Elise," Emilia hissed. "You controlled her."
"I marked her to protect her!" Calista snapped, suddenly defiant. "The ritual — our ritual — was already breaking. Elise was dying from the backlash of your mother’s magic. I had to tether her. If I hadn’t, she’d be dust by now."
Emilia froze.
"You’re lying."
Calista shook her head slowly, painfully. “I know it’s easier to believe I’m the monster. But you’ve been playing in shadows without understanding them. Do you know who really sabotaged the ritual? Because it wasn’t me. It never was.”
"Then who—"
Calista’s lips trembled. “Ask Kith.”
Emilia’s heart stuttered. Kith?
But Calista wasn’t done. She looked up at Emilia, her expression shattering with emotion.
"I'm with Cyrus's child," she said quietly.
The words hit Emilia like a slap.
“What?”
Calista smiled, faint and bitter. “He doesn't know yet. I came to the Manor to tell him… and to protect him. You think I came to destroy the bloodline, but I was trying to save what’s left of it. He was slipping, Emilia. Giving in to the hunger. You know that. I came to anchor him."
Emilia stepped back, her bloodfire blade flickering.
"You expect me to believe you?”
“I expect nothing,” Calista whispered. “But if you're going to kill me, know this — I never betrayed the blood. I never betrayed this family. And if I must die for a sin I didn’t commit, may my blood… and the blood of my unborn child… never stop haunting yours.”
The words struck deep, like nails into Emilia’s chest. Calista stared up at her with a kind of quiet defiance, a tired queen unbothered by her execution — as long as her truth was heard.
A cold silence followed.
She’s lying, Emilia told herself. Manipulating me.
But still, her fingers trembled. Her blade wavered.
Then something else struck her.
How did Calista know?
Emilia's hand instinctively dropped to her lower belly. She hadn’t told anyone yet. No one had sensed it. Not even Luca. But Calista's eyes held a knowing calm — the kind of knowing that couldn’t be faked.
She knows I’m pregnant.
Emilia swallowed, her throat dry. Her blade dissolved into mist as confusion and fury warred inside her. If Calista was lying, she was damn good at it. But if she wasn’t then it would be difficult to kill her.