Chapter 239: Plans!

It was a good thing that there were no crowds gathered before the temple. In fact, it was a blessing far more welcome than Aria had anticipated.The stone steps that usually thrummed with pilgrims’ footsteps lay empty under the pale afternoon light, and the vast square before the temple gates stood deserted, the air heavy with stillness.

Even better, she had ensured they arrived in an unmarked carriage—one plain, nondescript, and stripped of any insignias or family crests. No one would be able to trace her presence back to her or identify her by association.

The gates themselves loomed ahead, their ironwork glowing faintly as though the metal had drunk in sunlight over centuries. The wide doors were unbarred and open, but no guards or supplicants hindered their way.


This unusual quiet allowed Aria and her companion to pass easily beneath the towering arches and into the inner court of the temple.

The huge cloaks they each had chosen to wear also kept their faces from being known considering that it was thick and lowered down.

Rymora padded silently behind her mistress, the soft rustle of her cloak the only sound in the tranquil space.

Aria had not brought Harriet along, a decision she had reached after much thought. Unlike Rymora, Harriet remained a grey area in her mind—a shadowed figure she could not yet trust. With Rymora, she felt no such hesitation. The bond between them was far more certain, though it was still not strong enough to be called absolute.

She stepped beyond the gates, the echo of her boots muted on the marble floor as she crossed the threshold. The temple’s front doors rose before her like an enormous mouth, carved with the sigils of the god of light. Pushing them open, she entered the vast hall within—and stopped, startled, as a figure emerged from the far end to greet her.

Serraphina glided forward, dressed in the white-and-gold uniform of the temple messengers, the golden threads glimmering like captured sunlight. She looked as though she had stepped out of one of the temple’s own murals. A bright, welcoming smile adorned her face, the kind of expression meant to warm a room. Yet to Aria, it rang false. Serraphina might have looked delighted to see her, but Aria did not believe the expression for a heartbeat.

It was even more annoying that out of all the other messengers, it was Serraphina that she kept on meeting and speaking to.

"Welcome!" Serraphina’s voice carried across the hall like a bell tone. "You said you would return to heal people, but I had no idea it would be so soon. Had you informed us, we would have gathered a larger crowd and made security contingencies."

"If you still choose to do so, it would take a bit of time but the supplicants would be much excited to know that they have come on such an auspicious day."

Even while she spoke, Aria shook her head, making it clear with the simple gesture that Serraphina’s assumption was wrong.

"Is there a place where we can speak more privately?" Aria asked at once.

Serraphina’s eyes widened a fraction, betraying her surprise at the request, but she nodded without hesitation. "Your maid can wait here in the main hall," she said, her tone firm—final, as if the terms could not be negotiated.

Aria didn’t bother to argue. Beside her, Rymora bowed her head respectfully toward the messenger, aware of Serraphina’s rank. The woman was a well-known servant of the god of light, after all.

Although Aria herself had voiced doubts about the god’s existence, Rymora didn’t care about theology. Whether or not a god truly existed, the temple undeniably wielded power—a force Rymora had learned to recognize early in life.

At this point, Rymora thought as she lowered herself onto a wooden bench, if Aria wants revenge, then perhaps I’ll also find a way to return with something valuable... information on how to get rid of Zyren.

The thought stirred something in her chest, but a frown soon overtook her face as she realized a darker truth: a part of her almost didn’t want to return to the pack. Such feelings were unheard of for a wolf—even for a runt like her.

They’ll kill you, Rymora, she reminded herself grimly. It was what happened to rogues who broke contact with their packs and alpha. Death was inevitable for deserters.

Yet the memory of Lord Drehk flickered through her mind like a soft glow, bringing an involuntary smile to her lips. They had grown closer than she’d ever imagined possible. Shaking her head quickly, she pushed the thoughts aside before they could settle too deeply. Folding her hands, she watched as Serraphina led Aria up a staircase and through a discreet door—one that clearly opened into a part of the temple far removed from the grand hall where Rymora now sat waiting.

Aria followed without a word, allowing Serraphina to guide her through a side passage lined with murals of winged figures. The two women stepped into a courtyard where slender trees grew in orderly rows, their leaves stirring faintly in the breeze. Serraphina seemed intent on leading her further, perhaps to an even more secluded place, but Aria felt they had reached a spot private enough.

"I want to do the ritual," Aria said suddenly, halting in her tracks. Her voice was steady, but there was weight behind the words, a heaviness that stopped Serraphina in her own stride.

The messenger’s face betrayed her shock. Her golden-brown eyes widened, then narrowed into a frown so deep it seemed carved. "I was thoroughly convinced that you would never agree to such a thing," she murmured. "What changed?"

Aria exhaled slowly, the sound almost like a sigh dragged up from somewhere far within her chest. "Nothing much," she replied at last. "Just that my eyes were opened to how weak I truly am." Her expression was neutral, but her words carried a brittle edge.

"Every time I use my powers," she went on, "I must fear for my life—that the person I’m using them on could suddenly turn into a monster."

Serraphina stepped closer, her voice soft but insistent. "You’ll have more than enough guards to protect you. I’m even certain King Zyren has assigned additional guards to you already. I spotted some of them in the crowd the moment you arrived."

Aria did not let her surprise show, though Serraphina’s words unsettled her. So Zyren had watchers hidden even here.

"It doesn’t matter," she said with a small shrug. "I still wouldn’t feel safe without a means to protect myself."

Serraphina’s eyes sharpened. "Are you sure? You’re well aware that we use vampire children for this. You seemed very much averse to the idea the last time we..."

Aria cut her off with the faintest shake of her head. "I’d like the ritual to be done as fast as possible. Today, if it’s not too much of a hassle." She met Serraphina’s gaze directly, her own eyes unflinching.

For a moment, the messenger only stared at her, curiosity flickering behind her serious expression. Finally, she inclined her head in a slow nod.

"Preparations must be done," Serraphina said. "If you are ready, then the ritual can be performed tomorrow. There are no requirements on your part." Her voice had taken on a graver tone, almost a warning.

"Keep in mind," she continued, "that this means you are allying yourself with the temple. It also means you have agreed to go against Zyren and support any of our plans against him."

"You want to rule?" Aria asked, the question slipping from her lips before she could think better of it. It was the only reason she could imagine for their animosity toward Zyren. What could the temple want that he, powerful as he was, could not give them—save the throne itself?

"More like a balance of power," Serraphina replied with a weary sigh. "Zyren is too strong a king—so strong that he is the only one of his house still alive and powerful enough to wield the ability of darkness. With him gone, we won’t have to be wary of any king who takes his place."

"It’s jarring to have a king who cannot be killed," she added quietly.

Aria’s mind flashed to the memory of the silver-laced wine she had poured for Zyren, had watched him drink without so much as a flinch. Pure silver, enough to kill any vampire—and yet he had survived.

"After the ritual, I will definitely ally myself with the temple," Aria said. Her voice was calm, her decision already sealed.

Serraphina nodded once, the motion brisk. Without another word, she turned back toward the temple, and Aria followed.

They retraced their steps through the quiet corridor, past the row of trees and the heavy door, descending the staircase until the vast main hall opened before them once again. Serraphina waved absently, not bothering to see her guest off as she peeled away toward another passage.

Aria crossed the hall and found Rymora seated where she had left her, her head lowered in sleep. Her soft breaths stirred a lock of hair against her cheek.

Aria reached out and touched her shoulder gently, smiling as she watched her jerk upright in shock. "You didn’t sleep?" she asked.

But instead of replying after shaking the sleep off, what appeared on Rymora’s face was a deep red blush that told Aria much more than she needed to know.

’Rymora had a lover!’