The world paused, sounds hushed. Stephen was bruised, knuckles bloody from the sheer number of times he struck the door and windows in vain. Choking plumes of ebony smoke spilled under the door as the fire drew closer turning the structure to tinder. Genevieve was paralyzed, her mind rapidly acclimating to the fact she was sealed in a fiery tomb. Faintly she could hear her name being called, but it was garbled like it was spoken through water, the world drifting further away.
"Genevieve, stay with me. I need you now."
Stephen's voice rang in her head like a perfectly struck bell as he shook her shoulders once more, jolting her back to reality. The door was a lost cause, the heat warning them both what terrors lay beyond. Their only chance of escape was the windows, but no matter what they threw against the glass it refused to break.
"Stephen, it's no use. She'll never let us go."
Perhaps it was survival instinct as the smoke began to make the air unbreathable. Perhaps it was a burst of courage prompting him to face his fear. Or perhaps it was the heart wrenching dread and despair he witnessed in Genevieve's eyes. Regardless of the reason, Stephen decided to act. He strode with purpose to the massive mirror overhanging the mantle, tearing the covering from it and exposing the glass.
"For too long have you haunted my steps. For too long have I run. I am not running anymore, Violetta. I am not letting you destroy another innocent life. Let her go and take me. Kill the Westerfell line if that's what you want. No more will you be allowed to lurk in the shadows. This ends tonight."
o..
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