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Chapter 12: DRAVEN’S DARK BARGAIN

The night was oppressive, thick with shadows and the lingering stench of decay. Draven moved silently through the twisted trees, each step more deliberate than the last. His mind churned, weighed down by the burden of the prophecy, the same prophecy that bound Seraphina to a power he couldn’t control. He hated her for it, despised the way her very existence threatened his dominance. And so he had come here, to the one place that promised answers—though they came with a price.

Ahead, a small, dilapidated cabin came into view, nestled within the heart of the forsaken woods. It was said that no living soul dared to venture here, not unless they sought the favor of Selene the Crone, the ancient witch who knew the secrets of life and death, prophecy and power.

The air around the cabin was thick with magic, an invisible barrier that clung to Draven’s skin like oil. As he approached, the door creaked open on its own, a gust of wind beckoning him inside. He hesitated for only a moment before
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