Chapter 8: The Devil in Disguise
As Darius turned to walk away, his boots clicking against the polished floor, he cast a glance over his shoulder at Seraphina. His smirk widened, a sharp glint in his stormy gray eyes. "Oh, and one more thing," he called out, his tone dripping with mockery. "Stop calling me 'brother.' I disdain it. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth."
Seraphina froze, her light blue eyes narrowing as if she were trying to pierce through his very soul. For a brief moment, her graceful composure faltered, replaced by an icy chill that could freeze the sun itself.
"You're bold for someone so insignificant," she said, her voice as calm and cutting as a blade.
Darius laughed—a low, dark chuckle that echoed in the vast hallway. "Insignificant? Oh, dear sister, you'll soon find that insignificance can be the sharpest weapon of all."
He turned away again, his hands slipping into the pockets of his finely tailored coat. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, but there was an unmistakable edge to his movements—a predator biding his time.
---
As Darius exited the royal wing and stepped into the open courtyards, he let out a slow breath, his smirk fading into something colder, more calculating. The mission his father had given him was dangerous, but that didn't matter. What mattered was how he could use it to solidify his place—not just in the Lionhart family, but as a force to be reckoned with.
He strode toward his private chambers, where his next move awaited. Along the way, servants scurried out of his path, their heads bowed low. Whispers followed him, hushed but not inaudible.
"Did you hear? He smashed a wine bottle over Prince Asher's head just days ago."
"I thought he was nothing but a failed illegitimate son. What's changed?"
"There's something different about him now... something terrifying."
Darius paid them no mind. Their fear was a tool, and he would wield it with precision.
---
Once inside his chambers, he stood before a grand mirror. His reflection stared back at him—a lean, golden body wrapped in dark, regal attire. His chains, the Sovereign Chains, hung coiled around his arms like obedient serpents. He raised a hand, and with a thought, the chains slithered to life, glowing faintly with power.
Infinite mana. Infinite potential. And an infinite hunger for vengeance.
Darius tilted his head, examining the chains as they hummed with energy. He focused on their power, channeling a fragment of his mana into them. The room darkened, shadows twisting unnaturally as the chains absorbed the mana, glowing brighter with a dangerous, almost malevolent light.
"Beautiful," he murmured to himself, his voice a whisper of satisfaction.
---
The door to his chambers creaked open, and a servant entered cautiously, carrying a tray of wine and fruit. The poor man's hands trembled as he set the tray down on a table.
"Leave," Darius commanded without turning, his tone sharp and dismissive.
The servant froze for a moment, then bowed hastily and scurried out. Darius approached the table, picking up the wine goblet and swirling the crimson liquid inside.
He raised the goblet in mock toast to his reflection in the mirror. "Here's to the Lionhart family," he said, his smirk returning. "May they all choke on their pride."
As he sipped the wine, a knock came at the door. Before he could respond, the door opened, and a figure stepped inside uninvited.
---
It was Tobias, his younger brother, still pale and recovering from the events of the dining hall. His usually arrogant expression was replaced with unease as he stood there, clutching the doorframe.
"What do you want?" Darius asked, his tone disinterested as he set the goblet down.
Tobias hesitated, his gaze darting to the chains coiled around Darius's arms. "Father sent me," he said. "He wants me to assist you and Seraphina on the mission to the borderlands."
Darius raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening into something almost predatory. "Assist me?" he repeated, his tone dripping with mockery. "How generous of him. Tell me, Tobias, is this Father's way of testing your loyalty or mine?"
Tobias flinched at the words but quickly masked his reaction. "I don't care what you think, Darius," he said, his voice shaky but defiant. "I'm only here because I was ordered to be."
Darius stepped closer, his chains rattling faintly as they shifted with his movements. He stopped mere inches from Tobias, towering over him like a shadow.
"Good," Darius said softly, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Then follow your orders, little brother. But remember this: disobey me even once, and I'll make you regret it. After all…"
He leaned in closer, his smirk turning into a devilish grin. "It would be such a shame if Father's precious son had an... unfortunate accident on the battlefield."
Tobias paled, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Darius's words. Without another word, he turned and fled, leaving Darius alone once more.
---
Darius returned to the mirror, his reflection smirking back at him. Let them send their spies and their watchdogs. Let them try to contain me. It won't matter.
He clenched his fist, the Sovereign Chains responding to his will, glowing with a menacing light.
"This is my story now," he murmured to himself. "And I'll write it in blood."