Chapter 109 109

Chapter 109 109
SELENE’S POV

“I think you already have,” I answer.

The words settle into the space like something irreversible. Iver’s head turns sharply toward him. “Tell me she’s wrong.”

Vayer doesn’t look away from me. “That’s not what this is.”

“That’s exactly what this is,” I cut in.

Because now it’s clear. “You felt it,” I continued. “The pull. The way it moves through me.”

My hand lifts slightly, then stills. “I’m the problem,” I say. “Not them.”

Iver’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. Because he knows.

“They’re not cursed,” I go on. “They’re just close to me. I’m surprised you forgot you told me this yourself.”

My gaze hardens. “So whatever you’re planning, whatever you think taking one of them does, it’s not about saving anyone.”

“It’s about control.”

Vayer’s expression flattens. There’s no point pretending now.

“Move,” he says not loud. But finally, like he still thinks I will.

I don’t. “Try,” I answered.

The word barely leaves my mouth before the air changes. The space around him tightens not a cage, not pressure, a refusal. Like the world itself is denying him forward movement. His step halts mid-motion. For the first time, he looks at it then at me.

“You’re making this worse,” he says.

“No,” I replied calmly.

“I’m making it clear.”

My gaze doesn’t waver. “You’re not taking my child.”

There’s a pause “And if you are working for her…”

The air dips. “Then you’re standing in the wrong place to make demands.”

It breaks fast, too fast to stop. Vayer moves and Iver is already there. The impact is brutal, immediate. His hand catches Vayer’s collar and slams him back into the wall with a force that cracks through the stone.

“I knew it,” Iver snarls. Not loud but sharp enough to cut. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Vayer doesn’t struggle right away. He just looks at him. “You didn’t,” he says.

That lands harder than the hit. Iver’s grip tightens. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Act like this is nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing,” Vayer replies evenly. “It’s necessary.”

The word snaps something loose. Iver hits him again. This time Vayer moves with it twisting, breaking the hold, driving his shoulder forward and forcing Iver back. Power flares between them instantly, sharp and violent, cracking through the air.

The hall trembles.“You stood there last night,” Iver says, advancing again, voice rough now. “You stood there and planned with me…”

“And you thought that meant I agreed with you?” Vayer cuts in.

Their blows collide force against force, precise, practiced, each of them knowing exactly where to strike.

“That meant you chose a side,” Iver snaps.

“I did.” The answer is immediate.

They clash again, harder this time. The floor fractures under the pressure, energy snapping outward in jagged bursts as neither of them pulls back.

“You’re not taking my child,” Iver growls.

“I’m taking one,” Vayer returns.

Another hit, another collision. This isn’t a fight building. It’s a fight unleashed. I’ve witnessed them fight a couple of times but not like this.

“I trusted you,” Iver says, breath uneven now, something raw breaking through the anger. “Out of everyone, I trusted you.”

Vayer’s expression tightens just slightly. “That was your mistake.”

That’s it. That’s the break. Iver’s control slips not gone, but sharper, more dangerous. His next strike isn’t measured, it's fueled. It drives Vayer back several steps, power surging with it, unstable at the edges.

“You don’t get to walk in here,” Iver continues, voice dropping lower, more dangerous, “after everything and decide what I lose.”

“I’m deciding what survives,” Vayer fires back.

They collide again. The manor groans under the strain, walls crack, air distorts. And still, neither of them stops. I step forward.

“Enough.”

They don’t hear me. Or they ignore it. Another impact stronger, wilder now. The energy between them isn’t just controlled power anymore. It’s feeding on something else, history, blood, betrayal.

And it’s getting worse.

“You’re proving my point,” Vayer says, forcing Iver back a step. “Look at you.”

“Look at you,” Iver snaps back.
Their movements blur again faster, harder, pushing past control into something reckless. The pressure spikes, not just from them. From what they’re pulling into this. My chest tightens, not from fear but from understanding. They’re amplifying it, both of them. And they don’t even see it.

“Stop.” Nothing.

Another strike. The ground splinters slightly under their feet. Something in me stills completely because now I see it. Not just the fight, the connection. The way their movements sync even when they’re tearing into each other. The way their power recognizes itself across the divide. They’re not separate in this. They’ve never been.

My gaze sharpens. “You’re both making it worse,” I say quietly.

When I reach between them it’s there, buried under years of instinct and shared strength.
The bond. The thing that lets them fight like this. Like mirrors trying to break each other.
My fingers curl and I pull. It resists for half a second, then snaps. The effect is immediate.
Both of them freeze mid-strike. Power cuts off so abruptly the air drops with it, like something essential just vanished. Silence crashes into the space. Iver’s breath catches. Vayer’s expression shifts sharp, startled for the first time. They don’t move, they can’t. Not because I’m holding them but because something they relied on is gone. Severed clean.

“What…” Iver starts, voice rough.

I step closer. “You’re done.”

My gaze moves between them. “You don’t get to destroy everything because neither of you knows when to stop.”

Iver’s eyes lock onto mine, something unsettled flickering under the anger. “Selene… what did you do?”

I hold his gaze. “I separated you.”

The words settle heavily. Vayer exhales slowly, testing the absence, the silence where something used to be. “You think this fixes anything?” he asks.

“No,” I reply coldly

“I think it stops you.” My eyes don’t leave his.

“You’re not taking my child.” Silence stretches again. And I think now he realizes the extent to which I’ll go to protect my children.