Chapter 29 Chapter 29
Chapter 29 Chapter 29
Third person POV
As the sun sank behind the ancient mountains of Domhnall, painting the sky in molten gold, Bailey Durant grew increasingly anxious. In only a few hours—when the moon climbed high above the clouds—she would stand before the dark king and say yes. The thought made her pulse race faster than she wished.
While Bailey wrestled with her fate inside the gilded castle, another familiar soul was facing his own crossroads—far beyond Domhnall’s borders.
Alexander Price, the renowned cerebral mage, walked through the bleak courtyards of his master’s keep, his mind split between duty and doubt. The blonde human girl—the one who now bore the Black Heart—had unsettled him in ways he could not rationalize. Bailey Durant. The name lingered in his thoughts like a haunting melody.
She had spoken to him with a reckless honesty that cut through his defenses, accusing him of having feelings. Impossible. Emotion was weakness. If he had truly felt anything, his power would have surged—but his heart remained hollow, his magic unchanged. Yet her words echoed. Developing emotions, she had said.
He rubbed his temple to quiet the thought. Foolishness. There were more pressing matters.
The Sorcerer’s fortress loomed before him, nothing like Domhnall’s shining citadel. This place was a ruin of stone and shadow—scarred by centuries of battle, surrounded by barren soil where nothing but thorns dared to grow. The peasants who survived here did so under hunger and fear, their meager crops seized by their lord.
No one knew the Sorcerer’s true name. Not even Alex or his twin sister, Eva—his first lieutenants, his hands for every grim deed. They carried out his will with precision, no matter how vile. Alex had long lost count of the missions that had broken his sister piece by piece. Her cynicism toward men was well earned; she called them pigs with crowns, easy to seduce, easier to kill. She deserved a better life—something quieter, gentler.
He would give it to her. Somehow.
Tonight, his task was to free her from the dungeon after three days of captivity.
Their master had been displeased after their return from Prime Earth, despite their success in retrieving Tristan Thorn’s body. As punishment, the Sorcerer ordered Eva imprisoned—and tortured. Alex had tried to take her place, but his master refused. He still needed Alex’s mind for the experiments on Tristan.
For three days, Eva had been silent. No laughter, no taunts—just silence. It frightened him more than screams.
When he reached her cell, the sight hollowed him. Eva was curled in the corner, shivering, her head buried between her bruised knees. The iron choker around her throat suppressed her magic, forcing her to heal like a mortal.
“I’m… tired, brother,” she rasped, lifting her head. Her lip was split, one eye swollen shut. Alex knelt beside her, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.
“I know. Hold on a little longer,” he said softly. “My research is close.”
She swallowed a sob. “How long? I can’t—They—” Her voice cracked.
“Not much longer.” He unlocked the cell, lifted her carefully into his arms, and started down the corridor. When one of the guards—the man who had hurt her—passed them, he smirked.
“Looking forward to our next session, sweetheart.”
Eva turned her face into Alex’s shoulder, trembling. A heartbeat later, the man screamed.
“My eyes! What the hell—? I can’t see!” He stumbled into the wall and fell unconscious.
Eva blinked. “Brother… what did you do?”
Alex’s expression didn’t change. “A small hallucination. Nothing more.”
He walked on. “Now rest. We’re going to see the master.”
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A few minutes later, the twins stood before the Sorcerer’s chamber.
Inside, the air smelled of wax and dust. Candles flickered over piles of scrolls and broken tomes. The man behind the desk looked almost ordinary—pale skin, silver hair tied back neatly—but his golden eyes gleamed like a serpent’s.
Alex set Eva down in a chair.
“Who said she could sit?” the Sorcerer asked coldly.
“Master, she is too weak to—”
“Do I look like I care?”
Eva forced herself upright, every movement agony, but she made no sound.
The Sorcerer’s eyes cut to Alex. “Report.”
“Tristan Thorn remains stable. His vitals are—"
“I didn’t ask for his health, boy. What did you extract?”
Alex exhaled. “His mind is heavily protected. I’ve only managed fragments. Something—or someone—is shielding him.”
The Sorcerer frowned. “Someone? You think his brother defends him?
“I doubt it. Nathaniel Thorn wants his brother dead. As for the girl—she’s still at level zero. But as long as Tristan lives, there’s a path to reach the Black Heart.”
The Sorcerer leaned back, tapping his ringed fingers together. A path, he mused. That was all he needed. Soon, the Thorns would pay for what they had done to him.
Alex continued, “There’s more. I received word from Ares. One of his men—Spike— infiltrated the royal castle. He discovered a magical barrier surrounding it. They’re close to disabling it. The boy has also gained the girl’s trust.”
A slow, wicked smile curved the Sorcerer’s lips. “Excellent. Finally, something useful.” He rose. “Now go. Break the protection around Tristan’s mind—or your sister will entertain the guards again.”
Eva flinched, her fingers curling into fists. Alex bowed low. “I will not fail you, master.”
“For your sister’s sake,” the Sorcerer replied, his tone almost amused. “It would be a waste to ruin such a pretty face.”
Eva said nothing, but hatred blazed in her eyes. She had vowed long ago that she would be the one to end him—this monster who had enslaved their lives, hollowed her brother’s heart, and stolen her soul.
Whatever it took—
Even if she had to kill the human girl to claim the Heart herself—
She would find freedom.
And she would make the Sorcerer bleed for every scar he had given her.