While Elara recovered, Aldric summoned the elders to the Court's throne hall.
But Daevos struck first.
He entered with five lords loyal to his bloodline, all wearing moon-null sigils designed to block Aldric's power. They marched directly to the dais where Aldric stood.
"You have failed the old balance," Daevos declared. "You have tied our future to a woman who carries death inside her."
"She carries salvation," Aldric said coldly.
"She carries rebellion."
A scythe made of lunar bone appeared in Daevos' hand.
"I challenge you, Aldric Vale, for the throne of the Shadow Court."
Gasps erupted.
Aldric removed his coat. "Then bleed for it."
Their duel was brutal—shadows against spectral flame. Runes shattered. Elders scattered. The chamber cracked under the pressure.
In the end, Aldric fell to one knee—bleeding, not broken.
But Daevos raised the bone scythe.
Until a voice echoed through the room.
"Touch him and I'll end you."
All turned.
Elara stood in the shattered doorway, her glyph now glowing in spirals across her throat and arms.
Daevos faltered.
And for the first time, he looked afraid.