The fire snapped and hissed, filling the room with a weirdly sweet smell.

Isabella sprawled across the couch, soaking up the heat. "This tree smells INCREDIBLE. Like, I swear I'm getting healthier just breathing it in. Julian, could this be, like, healing or something?"

Julian snorted. "Sera's full of it. It's just a tree."

Then he gave her that soft, smug look. "But hey, my family's always been lucky—healthy, strong, all that. Stick close to me and you'll get some of that too."

I couldn't even twitch from the pain, but a sigh slipped out anyway.

The Asters had their legacy, their luck, their power—all because I protected them.

Julian's life? Only still going because I broke the rules to save it, burning through my own soul to do it.

I kept my vow to his ancestor, binding myself to the Heartwood, feeding this land and his bloodline with my power for two hundred years.

He was just a kid the first time he stood before the tree.

He'd reached out, eyes wide. "Grandma says you're our guardian. Then you've gotta be the most beautiful thing ever. When I grow up, I'll be your knight. Okay?"

Time passed. People changed. But the second I saw him, I knew. Same soul. The one who once saved me.

After that, he came every day—spilling his wins, his screwups, all of it.

A goal at soccer. A bombed test.

That's when I started watching over him.

When he turned twenty, a car wreck nearly killed him.

I shattered every rule I lived by, burning through most of my life force to drag him back.

It wrecked my soul. To survive, I had to fuse deeper with the Heartwood—any damage to it could destroy me.

Julian never knew. But when he woke up, he dropped to his knees in front of Henrietta and said he'd loved me for years. Said he wanted to marry me.

The way he looked at me—like I was his whole world—I thought it had all been worth it.

After we married, he listened. Really listened. I told him my life was tied to the Heartwood, and whenever storms rolled in, he'd guard it like his own heartbeat.

Then Isabella showed up—bruised, shaky, a total wreck.

She claimed she'd saved Julian that night. Said her family's old magic brought him back. Said I stole the credit.

Julian bought it. Just like that, his warmth iced over. That soft look in his eyes? Gone.

"I must've been outta my mind letting you stay by my side! Didn't you say your life's tied to that stupid tree? Let's see if it hurts when I mess it up."

He grabbed a blade and went straight for the sigils carved into the Heartwood.

My power flared on instinct, ready to strike back.

I didn't think—I just jumped in front of him, throwing up a shield of light.

He didn't see the blast coming. All he saw was me, pale and stumbling back. Thought I was guilty.

That hit shattered me. I was down for three months before I could even stand again.

The memory blurred, swallowed by the wreckage of now.

Julian stood in front of me, that smug smirk dripping with mockery.

"Sera, think Isabella's gonna get some of that good luck too?"

I kept my head down—too weak to speak. He took the silence as attitude.

Right then, Isabella swayed and dropped into his arms.

"Julian, I... I feel dizzy..."

He yelled for the doctor.

After a quick check, the guy looked serious. "Ms. Duvall's symptoms are back. She needs a transfusion. Her blood type's extremely rare..."

Julian's eyes locked on her, all panic and worry—then he spun toward me like he'd just struck gold.

"Well, Sera, you always say you're some kind of guardian, right? So your blood's gotta be magic."

He shot a look at the doctor. "Dr. Wells, test her. If it matches, transfuse it. Now."

At Julian's word, they treated me like a broken toy—shoved, dragged, totally numb to it.

Dr. Wells rolled in some weird machine. Cold metal clamped onto my arm. The needle hit, and that was it.

My ichor matched Isabella's type. Of course it did. Spirit blood always does.

But it was the last of me. Once it drained, I'd be gone.

The tube filled steadily, drop by drop. Every bit pulled more of me away.

Then my power started slipping. I couldn't stop it. The chandelier above us began to rattle—hard.

Julian staggered back, panic flashing. "Sera, what the hell are you—?"

He didn't finish.

The chandelier broke free—crashing down, straight for Isabella.

In that split second, I scraped together the last of my strength—just enough to nudge the chandelier off course.

I couldn't let anyone get hurt. Not even her.

The crystals clipped her arm, leaving a thin red slash across her skin.

She screamed. Julian bolted over, shielding her like she was made of glass.

The second he saw the blood, his fury snapped loose. He thought I meant to do it.

For a second, his eyes met mine—dull, lifeless—and his anger wavered.

But Isabella's sobs dragged him right back. Any hint of doubt drowned in pure rage.

He glared at me, bloodshot and seething. "You've ALWAYS been jealous of her. You turned her into your enemy, made up all kinds of twisted lies. There was never anything between us—nothing like you imagined. She even forgave you for faking that whole savior act. And now this?"

The others jumped in, their voices sharp with disgust.

"Mr. Aster's right! Ms. Duvall's a saint, and this one? Total snake. Ungrateful and shameless."

"She's not even sick—just faking it for attention. Classic manipulator."

I couldn't fight back. No strength left.

Maybe this was it—buried in lies and hate.

Didn't matter anymore.

The end was crawling in.

Julian lingered nearby, jaw tight, watching me fade. Still waiting for me to beg.

I didn't.

When the container hit halfway, he snapped—kicked the machine over.

Marched up, grabbed my chin. His voice? Low, pissed.

"Just say you won't hurt Isabella again—and I'll forgive you!"

Somehow, I scraped up enough strength to move.

Forced my eyes open, locked on his.

And asked something totally off-script.

"Julian Aster, know what I regret most?"

He froze. Definitely didn't see that one coming.

Twenty years ago, that kid knelt in front of the Heartwood for seven straight days, full of awe, begging to be my knight.

His scraped-up knees bled into the dirt, feeding the roots, keeping me alive.

The stains on the stone? Long gone. So was that boy.

I exhaled the memory with my last bit of breath.

"My biggest regret... was believing in that little knight who swore he'd protect me."

Julian's face drained. He lunged, hands over my mouth, trying to stop the ichor.

But even he flinched—my power burned.

"Sera! It was just a little blood—who are you trying to fool with this dying act? Get up!"

His voice was sharp, but the crack in it? That was fear. He didn't even realize.

Henrietta burst in, leaning hard on her cane.

She'd just been at the family cemetery, paying respects—

Then the ground shook.

The Aster tombstone—solid granite—split clean down the middle. No warning.

She rushed back. Found me barely breathing in Julian's arms.

Her knees buckled. She hit the floor, whispering, "It's over... We are finished..."

Her gaze snapped to Julian—grief and rage blazing.

"Sera protected us for centuries. You killed her. Now we all pay."

Julian still wouldn't believe it.

Henrietta's words just pissed him off more. He dropped me and stood.

"Enough! Grandma, she's lying. And now you're in on it? We're finished? Retribution? Please."

He threw his head back, shouting, "If there's some god out there—The High One or whatever—let it come for me!"

Right then, the sky snapped dark. Storm clouds rolled in fast. Wind shrieked.

Just before everything went black, I heard them—Isabella and Julian—screaming.

Through the blur, a wave of pitch-black curse energy tore toward the estate.

Goodbye, Julian Aster.

My knight who broke his promise.

This time... I can't save you.