Chapter 15 PREPARATION 2

Chapter 15 PREPARATION 2

SILVER'S POV

"Who are you?" I managed, staring at the figure before me.

His smile widened, revealing fangs longer than Raven's. Red eyes gleamed in the strange half-light of the ritual space.

"Someone who's been waiting for you to wake up."

My heart hammered against my ribs. How was I supposed to react to this?

"Don't worry." The vampire's voice was almost gentle. "This is all in your mind. Your body is safe. You can stand."

I stood slowly, realizing my physical body wasn't moving. I could still feel it—distant, dreamlike—seated in the center of the ritual circle. But my consciousness was somewhere else entirely.

Somewhere between waking and dreaming.

"How do you know Raven?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.

The vampire tilted his head, studying me with those unsettling crimson eyes. "I don't know Raven."

Then his form began to shift.

Features rearranged like water rippling across a pond. Pale skin darkened to tan. Red eyes bled to blue. Black hair lightened to gold. Within seconds, a completely different person stood before me.

Arthur.

Perfect. Cold. Exactly as I'd last seen him.

"I'm your subconscious," Arthur's voice said smoothly. Then that mocking smile curved his lips. "So tell me, wife—when are you divorcing me?"

My breath caught. "This isn't funny."

"Isn't it?" The Arthur-figure stepped closer. "You threatened divorce. Left the palace. Made a blood contract with a vampire lord. Seems like you've made your choice pretty clear."

"Who exactly are you?" I reached for him, but my hand passed through his form like smoke.

The figure dissolved, scattering like ash on an invisible wind.

"You're not my subconscious," I said to the empty space around me. "You know things. About Raven. About Arthur. About the blood contract." I paused, understanding settling over me. "This is the test, isn't it?"

"Very good."

I spun around.

A little girl stood behind me.

She couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old. Green eyes. Chestnut curls that fell past her shoulders. A simple white dress that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light.

Silver's eyes. Silver's hair. Silver's face, but younger. Softer. Innocent in a way that made my chest ache.

"Hello, Sarah," the child said, her voice clear and certain. "We need to talk."

I froze. "How do you know my name?"

"Because I've been watching." She came closer, moving with the careful deliberation of someone much older trapped in a child's body. "From the moment you arrived in my body, I've been here. Aware. Watching everything you do."

"Silver." The name came out as barely a whisper.

She nodded. "This is who I was. Before I sealed my magic. Before I became what everyone feared." She tilted her head, studying me. "But I'm confused. Why do you want to unseal my powers? You're going against everything I worked for."

"I'm doing what's needed," I said. "At first, I didn't care about the powers, but—"

"You need them for the Book of Awakening." Her face changed, hardening. "But it's useless for someone like you."

The words hit like a slap. Its exactly what the Author said.

"The book is destined for the Saintess. For Rosalie. Someone pure. Someone chosen. Someone who actually belongs in this story." She looked at me with those child-eyes. "You can never be her, Sarah. No matter how hard you try."

"Why do you say it's useless if you haven't even tried?" I challenged.

"Because I know what I am. What my magic is." Silver's expression turned bitter. "I was told my powers would destroy the world. That House Noir's darkness would consume everything if I didn't seal it away." She looked down at her small hands. "So I did. I made myself small. Harmless. Acceptable. And it still wasn't enough."

"Who told you that?" I asked quietly. "That your magic would destroy the world?"

"Everyone." Her voice was small. Tired. "Arthur said I was dangerous. That people feared me. The King's advisors whispered that House Noir's magic was too dark, too unpredictable. Even my own father..." She trailed off, pain flickering across her young face. "He said sealing it was for the best. That it would make me safe. That I wouldn't be able to marry Arthur otherwise."

Silence settled between us.

"I understand everything now," I said quietly.

Silver's expression shifted—something darker flickering behind her eyes. "Do you? Because you are living my life now maybe even better.

My chest tightened. "Silver… I didn't know," I whispered. "I didn't choose this—"

"I know you didn't." Her expression softened slightly. "That's what makes it worse.

She took a step closer.

"But that gives me an idea," she said quietly. "What if I decide to trap you here? In this ritual space. Forever. And then I take my body back."

My heart stopped. "You... can you do that?"

"We're in my subconscious. My magic. My ritual." Her child-face was eerily calm. "I could keep you here while I return to my body. You'd be conscious, aware, but unable to do anything. Just... watching. Like I've been watching you." She paused. "And if I die while you're trapped here, you die too. We'd both cease to exist."

The threat hung in the air between us.

"If you do that," I said carefully, "then you make everyone who judged you believe you truly are the monster they thought you were."

Something flickered in her eyes.

"You'd trap an innocent soul," I continued. "Kill yourself out of spite. Prove them all right about you being dangerous and unstable." I held her gaze. "Is that what you want? To become the villain they always said you were?"

Silence stretched between us.

Then Silver started crying.

Not quiet, dignified tears. Messy, ugly, broken sobs. The kind only children can produce—raw and unashamed.

"Rosalie won, didn't she?" she said through the tears. "In the end. She got everything. Arthur. The kingdom. The throne. The love. The happy ending." Her voice broke. "And I got nothing. Less than nothing. I got erased and replaced."

I knelt in front of her, my heart breaking.

"She hasn't won yet," I said quietly. "Not in this timeline. The Spring Ball hasn't happened. You're still alive—we're still alive."

"What difference does it make?" Silver wiped at her tears with small fists. "The story always ends the same way."

"Not if I can help it." I met her eyes. "I can help you, Silver. If you can help me too. It's a win-win."

She looked up, hope and suspicion warring on her face.

Silver stared at me for a long moment, tears still streaming down her young face.

"You really think you can do that?"

"I have to try. For both of us."

"And what do I give you?"

"Your magic. Your cooperation." I hesitated. "Your blessing to save the people you couldn't."

"Like that scary handsome vampire man?"

Despite everything, I almost smiled. "Like Raven, yes. And your brother. And..." I took a breath. "And maybe even Arthur, if he's worth saving."

Silver was quiet for a moment, considering.

"Okay," she said finally, wiping her tears. "I'll help you."

"Thank you."

"But you need to hurry." Her expression changed,

"What's wrong?"

"That scary man. Raven." Her eyes went distant, unfocused. "He's being attacked. Vampires. Many of them. In the woods." She refocused on me, fear clear on her young face. "You don't have much time.

My blood went cold. "Then we need to finish this. Now."

"The ritual is completing," Silver said, already beginning to fade. Her small form became translucent in the strange light. "I'm giving you my magic. All of it. The fire, the shadows, everything I sealed away three years ago."

I paused for a moment "what about you?"

"I'll still be here. Watching. Feeling everything you feel." Her smile turned sad. "I've been here the whole time, Sarah.

"Silver—"

"Be better than I was, Sarah Chen." Her voice was fading now, becoming an echo. "Save him. Save yourself. Save us both."

"I will. I promise."

Silver's form dissolved completely, scattering like dandelion seeds on a wind I couldn't feel.

Then the ritual space shattered.

Reality crashed back like a tidal wave.

My eyes snapped open—truly open this time. I gasped, my chest heaving as if I'd been underwater and finally broke the surface.

I was back in the chamber. The ritual chamber deep beneath House Noir's mansion.

And kneeling at the circle's edge, hands still glowing with residual magic, was my mother.

Lady Noir's face was pale and drawn with exhaustion. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

"Silver?" Her voice was hoarse. "Can you hear me?"

I sat up slowly, testing my body. Everything felt different. My skin tingled. My blood sang. Power coiled at the base of my spine like a living thing, waiting.

"I can feel it," I whispered, staring at my hands. "The magic. It's everywhere."

Fire flickered between my fingers—small, controlled, responding to nothing but my thoughts.

Shadows pooled at my feet, moving like water.

"Thank the gods." Mother sagged with relief. "The ritual worked—"

Then I felt it. Raven.

He is in trouble.

"I need to rescue Raven," I said, standing abruptly.

"What?"

"He's under attack." I yanked open the chamber door.

"Silver, you need to rest—the ritual was hours, you can't just—"

But I was already running.

Down the corridor. Up the stone steps. Through the lower levels of the mansion. Servants scattered out of my way, their eyes widening at whatever they saw—barefoot.

"Silver, wait—you don't even have shoes—"

I didn't care.​