Married To Darkness-Chapter 449: Magic And Race

Alaric remained still, wide awake but peaceful. Salviana pressed tighter into his chest, her body rising and falling gently with sleep.

Lucius was a silent shadow, eyes fixed on the tree line, listening to the chirp of insects and rustle of wind.

No danger came.

No hunters.

No screams.

Just moonlight. Just breath. Just one quiet night before the storm—

"I can’t believe you lot forgot about me!"

The voice shattered the silence like a dagger through silk.

Alaric’s hand went to his sword. Lucius spun around.

And there—standing at the edge of the clearing, arms folded, a pout on his annoyingly handsome face—stood Sebastian.

"...Oh shit," Lucius muttered.

Alaric blinked slowly. "Sebastian."

Sebastian stepped closer, a wild grin forming as he dropped onto a rock beside the fire with zero shame. "So much for being your captive, huh? Honestly, I expected better from the great Third Prince and his vampire attack dog."

Lucius glared. "You did witchcraft. This is exactly why I don’t trust wizards."

Sebastian smirked. "Correction. I do magic. You do brooding."

"I’ll tear out your tongue," Lucius replied, deadpan.

"I’ve missed you too, sweetheart," Sebastian grinned, stealing a roasted nut from Jean’s unattended pouch.

Alaric just pinched the bridge of his nose. "You were supposed to be under watch."

"And I was. Technically. Watching you all from a very safe, very invisible distance. Charming, isn’t it? I let you stumble through ambushes and thorns and horseback bickering while I floated past in silence."

Lucius scowled. "You mean you hid while we were fighting."

Sebastian held up a finger. "Strategically observed. There’s a difference."

He leaned back, stretching like a cat. "Besides, I didn’t want you knowing what cards I was playing. Why should I show you all my tricks? You might fall in love."

"Too late," Salviana muttered in her sleep, making them all pause.

Sebastian blinked. "That... better not be about me."

Alaric chuckled. "It’s not."

Lucius still wasn’t amused. "So why are you here, Sebastian? Why come out of your magical sulking now?"

Sebastian sobered a little, gaze shifting toward the trees. "Because the closer we get to Wyfkeep, the more the air starts to hum wrong. Something’s coming. I can feel it in the ley lines. In the way animals scatter. In the way the forest breathes. And whatever it is, it’s not just hunters anymore."

He looked at them with rare seriousness.

"When we rise from here, we don’t stop. No detours. No long rests. We get to the castle before the next strike. Or we won’t make it at all."

Lucius raised a brow. "You sound terrified."

"I’m not terrified," Sebastian replied smoothly. "I’m just not stupid. Unlike some people who sleep in the open while the entire continent wants them dead."

Alaric gave him a long look. "And yet you stayed."

Sebastian shrugged. "What can I say? I’ve grown fond of you people. Especially the damsel. But don’t get cocky, if we die, I’m haunting you."

Lucius scoffed.

Alaric finally let his hand fall from his hilt. "You could have at least helped when the last group of hunters came."

Sebastian smiled innocently. "I did. I made them forget they’d even seen you."

Lucius blinked. "You... what?"

Sebastian winked. "Exactly."

They sat around the fire, its orange glow licking at the cool night air like a heartbeat in the darkness.

Everyone was too quiet, even Lucius. The weight of what lay ahead pressed on them like armor that had been worn too long.

"We need to leave directly for the castle at first light," Alaric said firmly, breaking the silence.

"Then we’ll send a letter to the knights—Heappal, Samion, Jaefel," Lucius added quickly, sitting straighter, always ready to plan. "They need to meet us there."

"Yes," Alaric agreed softly. "The castle is the thread holding this together. If we’re going to end this mess, it starts there."

Lucius looked into the flames. "And ends there, too."

Sebastian, lounging with a blade of grass between his lips, raised an eyebrow. "So we’re just gonna trust this run-away prince with a dramatic cloak and a god complex?"

"You mean Embrez?" Alaric asked.

"Yes. That one," Sebastian said, waving lazily. "The one who plays sword games on horseback and flirts with danger like it’s a woman in silk."

Alaric didn’t look away. "Embrez is many things, but he’s not a traitor. He’s stood with me since the moment I was banished. He’ll try."

Sebastian let out a sigh. "And if he fails?"

Alaric’s eyes turned cold. "Then we don’t."

The silence returned for a beat. Wind whistled between the trees.

Lucius cleared her throat. "Either way, we rest tonight. Then by dawn... we ride. No stops."

He stood up. "The message—let’s write it now."

Alaric turned to Sebastian, narrowing his eyes with half a smile. "Wizard. Ink and parchment."

Sebastian groaned theatrically. "Why is it always *me*?"

"You’re the one who floats things with your fingers and reads people’s minds. Be useful," Lucius muttered.

"Fine." Sebastian snapped his fingers and conjured a thin roll of parchment and a bottle of dark ink out of thin air. "But I’m charging magical rent for every scroll you waste."

Jean smirked. "Put it on Alaric’s tab."

Alaric leaned against his wife’s side. "Tell them to meet us at the southern gate of Wyfkeep Castle in three days. We’ll approach the throne with every name we trust by our side."

"And tell Heappal to stay wrapped in every cloak we own," Lucius added. "He better not pass out on us halfway." ƒreewebɳovel.com

Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Tell Jaefel if he dies, I’m bringing him back just to kill him again."

Everyone chuckled, but the laughter was edged with nerves.

Sebastian finished the note with a flourish. "Sealed. Signed. Delivered by midnight ravens or something equally dramatic."

Alaric took the scroll. "We’ll send it off now. It’ll reach them by dawn."

They all nodded. The fire crackled as Jean leaned into Lucius’ shoulder. Alaric drew his wife’s cloak tighter around her.

The quiet fell again, but this time it felt steadier. Not peace. Not yet. But the kind that came before war—like breath before a leap.

Tomorrow, they would ride toward the castle.

Toward the crown.

Toward everything.

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