𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘 | 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

♕

The wind whipped across the rocky plain like the tail of an angry cat. Tatiana Blackthorn pulled her tattered cloak more tightly around her as she struggled up the lee of a jagged hill. Far below her, she could see the Adamant Citadel, growing ever smaller in the distance, encircled by its red penny moat of hot slag and magma. The Iron Sisters disposed of adamas weapons that could not be used in the lava, so dangerous was the material outside of the right hands.

Not that they had noticed when she had smuggled a chunk of it out herself, Tatiana thought with satisfaction. They thought of her as a sort of mad Cinderella, muttering to herself in ashy corners, flinching when spoken to, given to long walks alone on the emerald-moss plains. She could not help but wonder when the alarm would be raised today. When they would realize she had left the Citadel for good, and would not be back.

The alarm would be raised, but that did not matter now. She had cast the last die, crossed the Rubicon. There would be no going back. She did not care. She had been done with all things Nephilim for a long time. She could not outrun them and their pursuit, not on this Earth, but that did not matter either. She had chosen her allies well. 

At that moment, she saw him. He stood atop the hill, smiling down at her. He was beautiful as ever, beautiful as sin and freedom were beautiful. She was panting by the time she reached him—he was leaning his back against a mossy boulder, examining his translucent nails. All of Belial was translucent, as if he had been formed out of human tears. She could see through him to the long stretch of empty volcanic land beyond. 

"Do you have it?" he said in his musical voice.

"A fine greeting," said Tatiana. She could see that instead of one wound staining the white of his clothes, he now had two, one below the other. They were freely bleeding. Her lips tightened. Stupid children, she thought, as dangerously foolish as their parents, unaware of the stakes in the game they played. "Did our plan come to fruition? Were you able to use the adamas I provided you?"

"Indeed, and your son performed his part excellently." Belial smiled, and if there was a wince behind that smile, Tatiana did not see it. "That part of our plan is behind us. We look to the future now. And the future rests on you. Do you have what you promised me?" 

"Yes." Tatiana reached for the metal object tucked beneath her thick belt. She held it up—an iron key, blackened with age and heavy with promise. "The key to the Iron Tombs." She glanced behind her. It might have been her imagination, but she thought she could see small figures swarming out of the Citadel, like troubled ants. "Now take me from here, as you swore you would."

Belial swept a bow. "At your service, my dark swan," he said, and his laughter wrapped her like the sweet blaze of laudanum, lifting her up as the black-and-green world faded all around her. 

Carrying her far away.

 ♕

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

"I'm what?" Dahlia asked, bewildered. Ariadne was next to her bed side, clutching her hand as Brother Enoch repeated what he had said.

You are with child.

Dahlia stared in horror at him. Matthew had not only decided to haunt her dreams but he had decided to leave her with a piece of him, in the form of a child.

Dahlia could not hate the child for it's father. She would love it, no matter what and she would keep it her secret for as long as she could.

"Oh how wonderful." she muttered sarcastically.

Ariadne sighed. "Brother Enoch, thank you so much for coming here at last minute notice, would mind keeping this to yourself?" 

Brother Enoch radiated a questioning air. Why is that?

"Well until the father returns from his trip from Paris that is, once he returns we will tell the Enclave." Dahlia said hastily. Brother Enoch nodded.

As you wish.

Then he left the room leaving Dahlia with her shock.

"I'm going to be a mother." she muttered. Ariadne smiled. "I'm going to be an aunt."

"I'm going to be an uncle!" Evan cheered bursting into the room.

"I WILL BE AN AUNT!" Eugenia cried. Dahlia sighed, face palming. Only Alastair was smiling from the doorway, looking at her proudly.

She smiled back at him and placed an unconscious hand on her stomach.

I'm going to be a mother, she thought.

 ♕