DAGON MANSION

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: TOWARDS THE DARK DIMENSION

Randolf had made his decision.

He would follow Mia, Ryan, and Theolinda into the Dark Dimension — not as a warrior, not as a hero, but as a quiet witness and, when possible, a protector. Even if his role was small, even if his presence went unnoticed, he would be there.

Two nights later, on the eve of their departure, Theolinda slept peacefully — her breathing soft, her face touched by moonlight. Ryan lay beside her, wide awake, nerves taut like drawn wire. His mind churned with memories, fears, futures that might never come. Sleep refused him.

At last he rose, pulled by restlessness and dread, and wandered the silent mansion.
He tried to escape his thoughts, but they followed, whispering.

He found Mia in the living room, a pale figure in soft blue satin, sitting in the hush of moonlight. She turned even before he spoke, sensing him.

"Ryan."

Just his name — yet it struck something deep inside him.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

"No." Her eyes lifted to him, luminous, vulnerable, burning. "Come sit."

He hesitated. He should leave. Instead, he sat beside her.

The silence between them vibrated, alive, an old thread tugged tight again. The weight of unsaid things pressed on both their chests.

"We leave tomorrow," Ryan murmured. "It will be dangerous. I need you and Theo to listen to everything I say out there. No arguments."

A fragile smile touched her lips. "Theo and I are always so well-behaved."
A beat. A dangerous softness. "Except...I've never been good at being good."

"Mia—"

"No." Her voice trembled, stubborn and aching. "Let me speak. People can call me selfish, foolish — I don't care. Ryan, I love you. I always have. And I know you feel it too. I know it."

His breath left him. He should deny it.
Instead, the truth escaped him like a wound opening.

"I love you. Completely."
A whisper, raw and helpless. "And it terrifies me."

A soft sound broke from her — shock, relief, devotion all tangled. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

"Then don't be afraid," she whispered. "Not tonight."

"Mia, we can't—"

"You feel this," she breathed, fingers trembling as they touched his.

"It isn't madness. It isn't wrong. It's ours. And tomorrow we may die."

The world held its breath.

Ryan felt the pull — not lust, not rebellion — destiny, memory, curse, love...whatever name one gives to the thing that steals reason.

He leaned forward before he could stop himself, mouth brushing hers in a trembling, forbidden kiss.

Once.

Then again — desperate, hungry, already unable to step back.

Mia's hands slid to his face, reverent and shaking. "Stay," she whispered. "Stay with me tonight."

He should have fled.

Instead, he let himself fall.

The night swallowed them — a rush of heat, breath, whispered names; desperate hands, tangled limbs, soft gasps muffled against skin. Everything was sensation and ache and surrender. Every moment felt like the last one two souls might ever have.

And then — a surge of power.

A pulse through the air like a star being born.

When their breathing finally steadied, Mia's forehead rested against his, both of them dazed, trembling with love and dread.

"Let's choose a new power," she murmured.

A pause. A subtle shiver.

"Yes," Ryan breathed. "But we tell no one."

A secret. A sin. A bond forged in shadows.

After a time, he rose. He kissed her brow — tender, tormented.

"I have to speak with Theo."

Joy drained from Mia's face, replaced by fear.

She said nothing. She simply watched him go.

Morning came harsh and bright.

Ryan found Theolinda downstairs. She smiled at him, trust and warmth in her eyes — and the sight nearly split him open.

"We're leaving soon," he said quietly. "Theo... I had papers drawn. If anything happens to me — to us — I want you to become Scarlett's guardian."

Her expression faltered. "Ryan—"

"Promise me."

She took his hands, steady, earnest. "I will protect her as my own. But don't speak as if your fate is already sealed."

His voice was barely a breath. "Promise."

"I promise."

He nodded, relief and guilt warring in his gaze. "And...our son. Brenan. I think that's his name."

Theo's heart tightened.
He looked like a man walking toward a storm he didn't expect to return from.

"Ryan... you're frightening me."

He cupped her chin gently, pressed a soft, haunted kiss to her lips — almost a goodbye.
"Whatever happens, remember I love you. And I want to come back to you."

Elsewhere in the mansion, Rowena laid out her tarot cards, hands trembling

The cards fell.

And fell.

And fell again.

Her breath hitched. "No..."

She reshuffled. Tried again.

Always the same.

"Three will enter the Dark Dimension," she whispered, voice cracking. "But only one will return."

Her fingers shook as she reached for the deck again — but the cards shifted, refusing to speak the last truth.

"Who?" she begged, tears spilling. "Who survives?"

Silence.

Only the whisper of destiny, merciless and cold.