22.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the energy shift as Xyriel and I stood side by side, gazing out at the shadowed chambers where his brother was hiding with the recruits.

“Xyriel,” I began, my voice firm, “we can’t let him go through with this. Those recruits… they have no idea what’s waiting for them.”

Xyriel didn’t look at me. His face was impassive, as if it was carved from stone. “My brother is driven by his impulses,” he said. “They mean nothing to him.”

“And they mean nothing to you?” I challenged, stepping in front of him. “They’re innocent, Xyriel. They didn’t choose this.”

He finally turned his gaze to me, his eyes dark as a stormy sea. “Do you know who I am, Ophelia? I am the God of Doom. My world is built on ruin, not mercy.”

“Then why am I here?” I countered, my voice shaking slightly. “If you don’t care, if there’s no shred of compassion left in you, then why did you bring me here?”

His jaw clenched, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a crack in his armor. But he closed himself off, his voice as cold as winter. “I brought you here because you are mine, not because I share your… sympathies.”

I felt a pang in my chest, but I couldn’t back down now. “Xykel is a danger, even to you. If he keeps pushing these boundaries, he’ll destroy everything—including you.”

Xyriel’s eyes flared. “And what do you expect me to do? Go to war with my own brother for a handful of mortals?”

“Yes!” I shouted, letting the frustration pour out. “If that’s what it takes to protect them. To show him there’s a line he cannot cross. You have power, Xyriel—use it.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, as if he were weary of the conversation. “You expect too much of me.”

“Maybe,” I whispered, my voice softer. “But I think you’ve forgotten what it feels like to have someone believe in you.”

He looked away, and a long silence settled between us. When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost hesitant. “If I do this, there is no going back, Ophelia. Xykel will see it as betrayal.”

“Then betray him,” I urged, my hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Betray him, if it means saving those lives.”

Xyriel turned, his eyes meeting mine, a strange mix of anger and something else I couldn’t quite place. “You’re a fool, Ophelia.”

“Maybe,” I replied, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “But you need a fool by your side right now.”

A long moment passed, and then he nodded, a resigned look settling on his face. “Very well. Let’s stop my brother.”

Xyriel and I arrived just as Xykel’s laughter echoed down the stone corridors, chilling me to the bone. He was surrounded by the recruits, each one visibly terrified, their eyes darting between Xykel’s cold, twisted smile and us.

“Well, well,” Xykel drawled, turning to face us. His gaze settled on Xyriel, a mocking grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Look who decided to join the fun. Brother, I didn’t think you’d care about these… disposable humans.”

“Let them go, Xykel,” Xyriel said, his voice a low, lethal growl. “They’re not yours to use.”

Xykel raised a brow, feigning shock. “Not mine? Are you questioning my right to do as I please, Xyriel? The humans owe us brother. Their little ‘deal’ was a pathetic excuse to buy time. They’re ours to claim and conquer.”

“They gave fifty of their own,” I interrupted, my voice sharp. “They did what you asked. You don’t get to break that promise and still call yourself honorable.”

Xykel’s eyes gleamed as he turned to me, an unsettling grin on his face. “Ah, Ophelia, always so… bold. Tell me, did you really think your words would sway me? You’re amusing, like a mouse hissing at a lion.”

I clenched my fists, refusing to be intimidated. “These are lives, Xykel. Not your playthings.”

“Oh, but they are,” he sneered, stepping closer. “Your precious Earth is weak, desperate. They would have traded twice as many souls if I demanded it. That’s the nature of survival, isn’t it? Sacrificing a few for the ‘greater good’?”

“Enough,” Xyriel snapped, his voice slicing through the tension. “I’m not here to debate morality with you, Xykel. I’m here to stop you. Release the recruits and return what you’ve taken from Earth.”

Xykel’s smile vanished, his gaze hardening. “Stop me? You’d betray your own blood for her?” He gestured at me, his disdain evident. “You’ve grown soft, brother. Blinded by a mortal who sees only weakness in you.”

Xyriel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “You’ve crossed a line, and if you refuse to see it, then I’ll make you.”

Xykel let out a dark laugh. “Oh, please. You’ve always been too sentimental, brother. It’s why you’ve always been so easy to control.”

Xyriel tensed, and I could see the conflict in his eyes—the struggle between loyalty to his family and the principles he had buried beneath layers of bitterness. I stepped forward, my voice trembling but resolute. “Xykel, if you want to go to war, know that you won’t just be fighting humans. You’ll be fighting me.”

Xykel tilted his head, clearly amused. “A human threatening a god. How adorable.” He leaned closer, his voice a whisper meant only for me. “Tell me, Ophelia, do you really think Xyriel will protect you when things get… dangerous? Or will he choose his family?”

Xyriel’s hand clenched at his side, his gaze fixed on Xykel. “Don’t test me, Xykel. I won’t hesitate.”

Xykel’s smile faded, a flicker of something dark passing over his face. “Then prove it, brother.” He turned to the recruits, raising a hand that glowed with a sinister light. “Or I’ll take these lives and more.”

“Xykel, stop!” I shouted, but he ignored me.

Xyriel surged forward, his own power crackling around him. He threw a shield over the recruits, blocking Xykel’s attack just in time.

Xykel glared, his eyes filled with fury. “You think you can protect them from me? You’re deluding yourself, brother.”

“This isn’t a game, Xykel!” Xyriel shouted, his voice raw with anger. “You’re blinded by your own hunger for power.”

Xykel’s sneer returned, his voice dripping with contempt. “Power? You speak of power as if you don’t crave it yourself. Don’t lie to yourself, Xyriel. You’re as much a monster as I am.”

Silence fell, thick and heavy. Xyriel’s face darkened, and I felt a pang of fear—not for myself, but for him. The truth in Xykel’s words struck something in him, a painful reminder of the darkness he fought every day.

But then he looked at me, and for a moment, something softened in his gaze. “I may be a monster,” he murmured, “but I won’t let you destroy what little is left of my humanity.”

Xykel laughed, a cruel sound that echoed through the chamber. “Then you’re a fool, brother. Weakness will be your downfall.”

“Perhaps,” Xyriel replied, his voice calm but unyielding. “But I’d rather fall fighting for something worth saving than live in the shadows with you.”

I took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’ll face him together.”

Xykel rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, how touching.” He raised his hand again, his power surging as he prepared to strike. “Let’s see how far your ‘love’ really takes you.”