Chapter 98 Hidden Child
Dreams lingered in his throne room, the shadows of the towering pillars stretching like silent sentinels across the stone floor. His mind drifted to Michael, to the careful, almost obsessive way his brother had secured his dreams. Layers upon layers of power, intricate and unyielding, like a fortress even Dreams had never dared breach.
He had never cared for Michael’s dreams before. Never. But now, after Lucifer’s departure, a chill ran down his spine, prickling at the edges of his awareness. Something wasn’t right. Something waited, hidden.
Rising from the throne, he moved with measured grace, each step echoing through the cavernous hall. His hand carved the air, tracing a portal that shimmered with muted light. Beyond it, Michael’s dreams swirled, violent and untamed, like storm clouds coiling around some hidden core. The aura was dense, almost suffocating, and a thrill, sharp and dangerous, danced along his nerves.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips. What are you hiding? That shadowed corner of Michael’s mind the one capable of unraveling everything was finally within reach. Curiosity alone would not satisfy him; a darker hunger settled in his chest, steady and insistent.
Lightning leapt from his fingertips, green and jagged, slicing through Michael’s protective wards as if they were fragile silk. The dreamscape trembled, bending under his intrusion, and glimpses of deeper, forbidden truths flickered at the edges of his vision.
He stepped into the dream itself. Colors bloomed around him, impossibly vivid the warmth of Michael’s hopes, the gentle weight of memories suspended like glass ornaments. And then he saw it.
A mirror, black as midnight, absorbing light rather than reflecting it. Hidden in the corner, coiled in shadow, it pulsed with a quiet menace. This was the piece Lucifer had craved.
Dreams extended a hand, summoning it. The air thickened, cold seeping into his bones, and the edges of the room seemed to stretch and warp, holding their breath in anticipation. When his fingers brushed its surface, the world tilted, and his eyes closed on their own.
Inside, a scene burned itself into his mind. Michael held a tiny infant in his arms, while Dorcas stood close, her expression fierce and protective. Michael’s voice, steady and unyielding, cut through the silence:
“Promise me, sister. Keep my son safe.”
Dorcas’s eyes shimmered with solemn light. “I promise, brother. It’s between us. No one will ever know. I vow it today.”
Dreams stumbled backward, chest tight, heart hammering as if trying to break free from his ribs. Michael had a child. A child? The thought hit him like ice, freezing and searing all at once. Where could it be? And only Dorcas knew the truth.
The room pulsed with quiet darkness, as if the dream itself had absorbed his shock, leaving him alone with the weight of a secret that could shake worlds.
Far away, in the shadowed depths of his chamber, Lucifer leaned back in his chair, the faint glow of green light flickering across his sharp features. A sly, almost predatory grin tugged at his lips. Every movement of Dreams the way his fingers trembled, the way his chest rose and fell was clear to him. Every secret Michael buried deep in his mind now lay bare, exposed by the ghost he had sown.
He let the shadows creep along the walls, curling like silent observers, and whispered, voice low and dangerous:
“Where is your son, brother? And who is the mother?”
The words seemed to thrum in the air, carrying a weight that pressed against the room itself. His green eyes glinted, sharp as blades, reflecting both mischief and malice. There was a patience to him now, slow, deliberate, like a spider watching its prey struggle in the web.
“The only one who can tell me,” he murmured, letting the name roll on his tongue, “is our sister, Dorcas.” He leaned forward slightly, letting the shadows deepen the lines of his face, his grin widening. “Let’s see how long you can hide your secret, brother. How long before the truth slips through your fingers?”
The chamber sank into silence again, the air heavy, almost suffocating. But the echoes of that vision the infant, the vow, the secret lingered like a blade poised at Dreams’ throat. He could feel it, a subtle shift in the balance, a game that had begun without fanfare, and without mercy.
AUTHOR NOTE
Hey, wonderful readers! 💚
Thank you so much for sticking with me through this chapter it means the world that you’ve joined me on this journey into the world of Dreams, Michael, and Lucifer. I had so much fun writing this one, diving deep into secrets, shadows, and all those tense moments that keep our hearts racing!
I’d love to hear what you think did this reveal surprise you? Are you as curious as I am to see how Michael’s secret will unfold? Drop your thoughts in the comments; I genuinely enjoy reading every single one.
Don’t forget to like and subscribe so you don’t miss the next chapter things are only going to get darker and more thrilling from here. Your support makes all of this possible, and I can’t wait to share more twists and turns with you.