The air in the sanctuary was suffocating that evening, heavy with a tension I couldn't name but felt deep in my bones. The shadows stretched long across the courtyard, swallowing the fading light. My body ached from hours of relentless training, but my mind refused to rest. It kept circling back to Naomi—her soft humming that afternoon, the way she smiled as if the world wasn't falling apart around us.

But I felt it. Even before she approached me, tears streaking her face, hands trembling—I felt it.

"They're sending us away," she whispered, her voice breaking.

The words hit like a punch to the chest, but I didn't react. I couldn't. I just stared at her, the blood pounding in my ears. "Why?"

Her gaze flickered to Zara, who lingered behind her, silent and grim. Naomi hesitated, then slowly turned her back to me, brushing her hair aside.

My stomach twisted as my eyes locked onto the mark on her neck—dark, jagged, pulsing faintly with a sickly red glow.

"What is that?" My voice came out low, dangerously calm, but I could feel the storm building inside me.

Naomi's voice trembled. "The woman says it's a mark of control. From Lazarus."

The name hit like ice down my spine, sharp and cold. Lazarus. Of course. I clenched my fists, the air around me growing colder as the magic I barely understood surged in response to my anger.

"That bastard," I hissed. "He's still trying to control us, even now."

Naomi flinched, her gaze dropping. Her hand moved instinctively to the mark, as if she could hide it from me. "She says I'm putting you in danger by staying here. That he can find us through it."

The words settled over me like a shroud, heavy and suffocating. My jaw tightened, my mind racing. The mark wasn't just a scar—it was a tether. A way for him to keep his grip on us, even from afar.

"No." The word escaped before I could stop it, sharp and defiant. "I won't let him take you away from me. I can fight this. I can protect you."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. "You don't understand, Abigail. This isn't something you can just fight. The woman said it would take time and magic—magic she doesn't even have. And if I stay..." Her voice broke, a sob catching in her throat. "If I stay, he'll come for me. For us."

The room seemed to tilt, the weight of her words pressing down on me. I looked to Zara, the steady one, the rational one. She said nothing, but her silence was an answer in itself.

"This is bullshit," I spat, turning away, pacing like a caged animal. "They're just sending you off to keep me focused, aren't they? To make me fight harder, train harder—like I need more motivation when Lazarus is out there hunting us!"

"It's not like that," Zara said quietly, stepping closer. "This isn't just about you. Naomi's safety is at stake too."

I spun to face her, fury blazing in my chest. "And what about my safety? What about my sanity? You're asking me to let her go, to fight while I don't even know if she's alive!"

Naomi stepped forward then, her hand trembling as it gripped my arm. "I'm not asking, Abigail. I'm telling you. You have to let me go. You have to trust that we'll be safe—and that you'll make it through this. You're stronger than any of us, but you can't carry us all."

Her words cut deep, silencing the protests that had been clawing their way up my throat. I stared at her, the storm inside me quieting, replaced by a hollow ache. She was right, damn it. I hated it, but she was right.

"Promise me," I said, my voice breaking as I stepped closer, gripping her shoulders like I could anchor her here. "Promise me you'll stay safe. That you'll come back to me."

Her smile was faint, so faint, but it broke me. "I promise."

I pulled her into a fierce embrace, holding her as tightly as I dared. My throat burned with unshed tears, my voice a whisper against her ear. "I'll make him pay for this. I'll destroy him for what he's done to us."

She didn't reply, just held me like it was the last time.

And maybe it was.

When the sun finally set, when the sanctuary grew colder and emptier, I stood alone. Naomi and Zara were gone, their presence leaving an ache in my chest that felt unbearable. But the hollow in my heart hardened into resolve.

I would fight. I would train. I would become the weapon Lazarus feared most.

Because the next time I faced him, I wouldn't just be a girl fighting to survive. I would be a storm, and I would tear him apart.

Thank you so much guys for liking my last chapter I hope this one lives up to your expectations

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