Chapter 30 Damon Ferrars
Fernanda’s eyes fluttered open to a darkness that felt shifting, it felt like she was being watched. A faint, flickering light struggled against the gloom, revealing only the rough outline of stone walls and the cold floor beneath her.
Panic surged through her body the moment she tried to move and felt the bite of restraints cutting into her wrists. Her breath hitched, too fast, too shallow, as she recalled everything that happened before she was taken, the hooded figure, the shadows wrapping around her like a cage, Sebastian's Lycan reaching for her… almost touching… then nothing.
Then Fernanda recalled Yolanda getting hurt in a bid to protect her too, her heart dropped so violently she thought it would tear from her chest. "I'm so sorry," Fernanda murmured, tears brewing in her eyes. She had once again managed to pull both her friends into her mess.
The small light on the burning candle wavered and Fernanda suddenly felt a presence in the room with her.
"Hello?" Her voice cracked, raw from the panic lodged in her throat. "Who’s there? What do you want from me?" The silence that answered was suffocating. She pulled against the bindings again, desperate, tears spilling before she could stop them. Her pulse hammered loudly, the only sound in a place that seemed too devoid of noise. "Let me go! Please!" Fernanda choked out. "Why did you take me?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady herself, but the darkness seemed to crawl closer, feeding on her fear. And then… Sebastian. His face flashed in her mind, the sheer desperation in his eyes when he realized he might not get to her on time.
It was as clear as day, Sebastian had came for her. He had almost saved her.
Fernanda didn't know when she whispered "Sebastian… I’m sorry." Maybe she had been too scared to realize. But she was genuinely sorry for putting everyone through this ordeal for her own selfish reasons. She was sorry for how much this would destroy him.
Fernanda swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe. She had to hold on. He would find her. He always did.
But as the darkness pressed in and the silence deepened… even she wasn’t sure she believed it, especially not when whoever was in the room appeared from behind the shadows.
Fernanda’s eyes locked onto the figure stepping out of the shifting darkness.
He moved with calm certainty, unhurried and unthreatened, like someone who believed he had complete control. Fernanda realized that it was the same person who had taken her. The hood fell back, revealing a man with strikingly pale eyes and hair the color of midnight ash. He looked young, yet something in his gaze felt ancient… too ancient.
"My name is Damon. Damon Ferrars" he said, with a voice as smooth as polished stone. "I'm the leader of the Great Order.
Fernanda stiffened. Her wrists throbbed where the restraints dug in, but she refused to shrink away. "The great what?"
"We are sworn to finding the Catalyst," Damon continued, taking one step closer, "And guiding them, guiding you, toward mastering the power they were born with.”
The panic in her chest twisted into confusion. She shook her head quickly, violently, as if she could physically reject his words. "What does that have to do with me?" She asked flabbergasted.
He tilted his head, studying her with unnerving patience.
Fernanda’s voice cracked with fear and frustration. "Let me go! I don’t care who you are or who you think I am, just let me go!” Tears burned her eyes again, but she refused to fully break. Not in front of this stranger.
“I mean you no harm,” Damon said.
She let out a brittle, humorless laugh. "You expect me to believe that? I'm tied up like some prisoner awaiting execution."
There was silence for a moment, then Damon exhaled softly, almost… regrettably. He knelt and loosened the bindings, his fingers cold and swift until her hands came free. Blood rushed painfully back into her wrists. Fernanda rubbed them while glaring daggers at him.
"If i truly meant to hurt you," he said, "You would not be breathing."
"And that’s supposed to comfort me?" she snapped.
Damon ignored her hostility and began pacing slowly, as though choosing each word with weight. “Centuries ago, our world teetered on the brink of collapse. The elemental factions, fire, earth, water, shadow, light, waged endless war. The Oracle foresaw a single wielder who could bring either balance… or destruction. A Catalyst. One who carries every element within. One strong enough to end all wars.”
Fernanda stared through him, confusion swirling into disbelief. This was a nonsensical fairytale.
He continued, "Your mother, was one of us, a wielder aligned with light. She believed the Catalyst would rise from her bloodline. She dedicated her life to protecting you."
Her breath stopped. The room tilted. “No,” she whispered. “My mother was normal. And do not speak of her! She was-"
“She died protecting you,” Damon interrupted gently. “Protecting what you are.”
Fernanda’s heart pounded. Hard. Hard enough to hurt.
He raised his hand toward her. Not a threat… but a gesture of truth. "You were born with untamed power capable of shifting fates. If guided properly, you could unite the fractured realms. If not… you could destroy everything."
Fernanda blinked, then laughed. A real laugh this time, she was stunned. "You really expect me to swallow that? Me? A Catalyst? That’s ridiculous." She took a step back though her legs trembled beneath her. “You have the wrong girl. And when Sebastian gets here, and he will, you’ll regret ever laying a finger on me."
Fernanda couldn't believe she was saying that. She was glad he wasn't present to hear that.
The name Sebastian flickered a faint reaction across Damon’s face, something like annoyance, or maybe caution. “Your Lycan king will come,” he said with unsettling certainty. "And we will be ready for him."
Fernanda folded her arms tightly across her chest. "You think I’ll ever believe a word you’re saying? You kidnapped me and tied me up. You’re delusional."
Damon did not rise to her anger. "Fear clouds understanding," he murmured. "Soon enough, you will feel the power within you. You will know why the shadows want you… why the elements react to your presence… why the prophecy speaks your name."
She shook her head, heartbeat frantic. "Stop. Just... stop talking."
His pale eyes softened, almost sad. "You may reject destiny. But destiny does not reject its chosen." He stepped back into the shadows, though not entirely disappearing this time. Watching. Waiting.
Fernanda wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly freezing. Her body felt foreign. Her thoughts felt stolen. If she closed her eyes, she still heard Sebastian's growl. The terror in his eyes. The promise in them.
But Damon’s voice lingered like smoke in the room.
"Soon, Fernanda Parkinson, even you will not be able to deny what you are."
And that terrified her more than anything.