Chapter b260 /b

    Aurora’s POV

    The air was thick with the scent of iron, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like an unseen force. I watched, my body frozen in ce, as Harmona reached for a lever on the wall, her fingers wrapping around it with the kind of reverence one would give a sacred relic. My breath hitched when she pulled it down, and the ceiling groaned in response, parting to let in the ominous glow of the sun. But it wasn’t the warm, golden light of hope—it was fractured, darkened by the shadow of the Sr Eclipse. The world outside had fallen into an eerie twilight, casting elongated shadows that danced across the stone floor like ghosts mourning their inevitable fate.

    And perhaps, that was what we were—ghosts before we had even died.

    I barely had time to absorb the horror of it all before Harmona moved again, this time retrieving a metal dagger. Its de gleamed despite the dim light, and the engravings carved into it seemed to pulse with a life of their own. I recognized the symbol on its hilt–the same one that had been burned into my father’s chest.

    A sickness churned in my stomach as realization dawned: they weren’t just ying with dark magic. They were nning something far worse. They were going to absorb our powers, strip us down to nothing until we were empty husks, no better than discarded corpses.

    The women in the room–who I now realized were witches from a nearby covenb–/bwere already sobbing against the cold, unyielding walls, their bodies trembling with fear. Harmona approached them first, silent and methodical. One by one, she pressed the dagger against their skin, drawing blood with a practiced hand. The dark crimson collected in ader, swirling together in a sickening mix of sacrifice and despair.

    Lucas, his voice eerily steady, began chanting in anguage I couldn’t understand, his words a haunting melody that sent a shiver down my spine. The air around us felt charged, electric, as if the very walls could feel the impending doom they housed.

    Then, Harmona turned her attention to us. To me.

    I wanted to move, to run, to fight back, but my limbs betrayed me. It was as if my very soul had been shackled, held down by the weight of the ropes that felt like lead. The dagger glided across my wrist before bI /bcould even brace for the pain. A sharp sting, then warmth, then the sickening feeling of my own blood leaving my body, draining freely into the growing pool of stolen life.

    Lucas continued his incantation, his voice rising, twisting into something otherworldly. My vision blurred for a moment, my knees threatening to give out as the dizziness set in. I forced myself to stay conscious, to keep my eyes on Harmonab, /bsearching for something–anything–that could give me an edgeb, /ba way out. But all I saw was her faceb, /bexpressionless, cold. There was no remorse in her eyes, no hesitation in her movements.

    I swallowed back my fear, my throat dry as dust. “You don’t have to do this,” I whispered, bmy /bvoice barely audible over the chanting. “This isn’t power. This is destruction.”

    Harmona paused for just a fraction of a second, but then her lips curled into something resembling a smile. “Power is never given freely, Aurora. It is taken. And you-” she pressed the de against another girl’s wrist, slicing without hesitation, “-you were never meant to keep yours.”

    The room spun, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. I could feel it, the life being siphoned from me, from all of us. And yet, despite the overwhelming exhaustionb, /ba spark of something deep and ancient ignited in my chest.

    The sting in my wrist burned, sharp and relentless, but my mind refused to focus on the pain. I clenched my teeth, my breathing in uneven gasps as I tried to ground myself, but the cries around me made it impossible. The room was thick with agony, voices breaking, bodies writhing, the very air heavy with suffering. I forced my eyes open, refusing to let the pain consume me.

    bChapter /bbComments /b

    5 3