Dawn crept over the shattered cathedral like a reluctant witness. Blood had dried in dark streaks across the marble floors, and the air still carried the metallic tang of violence mixed with the lingering musk of last night's rituals.

Bodies had been cleared, but the evidence remained—cracked pillars, scorched tapestries, and the occasional smear where someone had dragged a corpse away.

Aiden stood at the edge of the central nave, staring at the massive stained-glass window that now looked like melted wax.

The fractures inside him pulsed in time with the morning light. They felt heavier today, like shards of glass grinding under his ribs. Every breath sent a faint tremor through the stone beneath his feet.

Footsteps echoed behind him. He didn't need to turn to know who it was.

Catherine entered first, chin high, her simple dress still stained at the hem from the night's chaos. Sabrina followed close behind, eyes sharp and arms crossed.

Flora and Luna hovered near the entrance, not quite inside the private chamber but close enough to hear. Isolde leaned against a pillar with her usual predatory calm.

Calipso sat in a high-backed chair, legs elegantly crossed, watching everything with cool detachment. Bela stood apart, fingers twisting the fabric of her robes, guilt and exhaustion etched into her face.

Catherine didn't waste time on pleasantries.

"We kept our word last night," she said, voice steady but edged with steel. "Now you will listen to ours."

Aiden turned slowly. The power inside him stirred at her tone, but he forced it down. "Speak."

Catherine stepped closer. "First, our daughters. Flora and Luna are not tools for your public displays. No more forcing them into the center of every ritual where half the city can watch. They are not vessels for spectacle."

Flora shifted uncomfortably at the door but didn't interrupt. Luna's cheeks flushed, though whether from shame or anger was hard to tell.

"Second," Catherine continued, "the consecrations. They cannot happen every time the wind shifts. We decide frequency and scale.

The people already fear what's happening here. If you turn this into an endless orgy on the altar, you won't have a city left to rule. You'll have a mob with torches."

Isolde's lips curled. "Careful, mother. The city respects strength. Weakness invites knives in the back."

"This isn't weakness," Sabrina cut in, glaring at Isolde. "This is survival. You think the hardliners Morten took with him are just going to disappear? They're out there right now, whispering that Aiden has become a demon wearing human skin."

Bela flinched at the word "demon." Her hands pressed together as if in prayer, but the gesture looked hollow even to her.

Calipso tilted her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. "And what exactly do you propose we do instead? Hide in the shadows while the rift outside grows teeth?"

Catherine's gaze flicked to Calipso, then back to Aiden. "We shape this faith. Not just you and your inner circle. The mothers have a voice. I want restraint where it matters.

Not every ritual needs to break minds and bodies for power. There has to be limits, or this corruption will swallow everything—including you."

Aiden felt the fractures twitch. A sharp spike of heat shot through his left arm. He clenched his fist, but the power didn't listen. A faint ripple spread outward.

The newly repaired stone at his feet cracked again with a sharp pop. Sabrina gasped as a small shard of marble sliced across her forearm, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Shit," Aiden muttered. He reached for her instinctively, but Catherine stepped between them.

"See?" Catherine said quietly. "This is what we mean. You're cracking, Aiden. The more you push, the worse it gets. If you burn us all out chasing strength, there won't be anyone left to stand with you when the real threat comes."

The air grew thick. Isolde pushed off the pillar, eyes narrowed. "You speak as if you understand the power. You don't. Last night we won because we didn't hold back. Morten's escape proves we still need more, not less."

"Enough," Aiden said, voice low. The command carried weight, but it cost him. Another tremor ran through the floor.

He could feel the addiction pulling at him—the constant whisper that one more surge, one more release, would fix everything. He hated how tempting it sounded.

Calipso uncrossed her legs and stood. "The Empress's envoy arrived an hour ago. She demands a personal audience. Soon.

And I received… another message. The cabal is offering terms. They say they can help stabilize the fractures. For a price."

Her eyes lingered on Aiden a second too long. There was hunger there, but also calculation.

Bela finally spoke, voice trembling. "This was supposed to be holy. A new light. Not… this endless hunger." She looked at Aiden with something close to pity. "If we keep going like this, I fear we'll lose whatever soul this faith still has."

Aiden studied each of them. The fractures sang louder in his chest, responding to the tension. He could force the issue.

Part of him wanted to—drag them all down and remind them who held the power. But Catherine's words from the night before echoed: We will talk.

He exhaled slowly. "New terms, then. Protection for Flora and Luna comes first. They fight only when necessary, and not as public centerpieces.

Consecrations will be… discussed. But I decide when the situation demands it. The faith will evolve, but it evolves under my lead. Not by committee."

Catherine met his gaze without flinching. "Then we need proof you can still control yourself."

The challenge hung in the air.

Aiden stepped toward her. The others watched in silence as he took Catherine's hand and led her to the side chamber. Sabrina hesitated, then followed at Catherine's nod. Flora and Luna remained outside, but the door stayed partially open. The message was clear: no more secrets.

Inside the smaller room, morning light filtered through narrow windows. Aiden pulled Catherine close, but slower than usual.

His hands settled on her waist, possessive but not frantic. "You want terms? Fine. But the bond stays. You feel it too."

Catherine's breath hitched as his fingers traced her spine. "I feel it. But I won't let it destroy my daughters. Or you."

Sabrina stood close, her wounded arm forgotten. Aiden leaned in and kissed Catherine deeply, tasting salt and exhaustion. There was no wild surge of power this time. Instead, the connection felt quieter, more deliberate.

He poured a thin thread of energy into her, reinforcing the bond without trying to flood the room with it. Catherine's body responded, softening against him even as her mind stayed sharp.

He broke the kiss and turned to Sabrina, pulling her in next. His touch on her injured arm was careful. The small cut sealed under his fingers, leaving only a faint scar. Sabrina shivered at the intimacy of it.

"No frenzy," Aiden said quietly. "Not today. But you're mine. All of you. That doesn't change."

Catherine's hand rested on his chest, feeling the irregular pulse beneath. "Then prove you can protect what's yours without breaking it."

The moment stretched, charged and uneasy. Aiden wanted more—craved the full release—but he held back. The restraint itself became a different kind of power.

Catherine's eyes darkened with reluctant approval. Sabrina pressed closer, her usual fire tempered by something almost tender.

From the doorway, Flora and Luna watched in silence. Flora's expression was conflicted. Luna bit her lip, unable to look away.

When they finally stepped back into the main chamber, the atmosphere had shifted. Not settled, but renegotiated.

Isolde looked displeased but said nothing. Calipso's smile had sharpened. Bela seemed slightly relieved, though her hands still shook.

Before anyone could speak again, a scout burst in, breathing hard. "My lord—the rift. It's moving. Something massive is forming inside it. And it… it's calling. The sentries say it sounds like it's singing to the cracks in the cathedral walls."

Aiden's fractures flared in response. He felt it—a distant pull, hungry and familiar, as if the entity on the other side recognized the damage inside him and wanted to widen every fracture until nothing remained.

Calipso touched the small pendant at her throat, the one that sometimes carried messages from her old contacts. Her expression flickered for the briefest moment.

Catherine looked at Aiden. "One more ritual, then. But on our terms this time. Controlled. Focused. We decide how it's done."

Aiden nodded once, jaw tight. "Agreed. For now."

Outside, the first distant roar rolled across the sky. The colossal entity in the rift had begun testing the cathedral's outer wards. Stone groaned in protest.

The mothers exchanged glances—Catherine resolute, Sabrina wary, Bela torn between faith and fear. Even Isolde and Calipso seemed to understand the balance had shifted, if only slightly.

But as the tremors grew stronger, Aiden felt the truth beneath it all. The fractures were getting worse. The power that had saved them last night was now eating at him from within. And whatever waited in that rift knew it.

He looked at the women around him—the mothers who had just forced him to negotiate, the daughters listening from the doorway, the ambitious and the devout.

They had bought themselves time.

Whether it would be enough was another question entirely.