Chapter 3

The next day, Aurelia hosted the most absurd yet anticipated bonding ceremony in the Crystal Palace's history.

The Holy Light Cathedral was split in two. The eastern dome blazed with the Golden Eagle clan's solar flares, its altar refracting harsh light. The western stairs were swallowed by abyssal shadow.

Lysandra and Valerius's bonding was a display of sheer excess. Golden hymns rang out, and sun-petals showered the air.

In contrast, the western stairs fell silent. No high-ranking nobles attended.

Even the low-tier avians stayed away, terrified of the Shadow Crows' "curse."

"The union of Princess Lysandra and Valerius shall birth the sovereign who will illuminate our canopy!" the Golden Eagle high priest bellowed.

Cheers erupted from the east.

Across the aisle, the ancient Shadow Crow priest pressed a withered finger against my forehead. "May the night stars and abyssal winds shield your bond. From now on, you share a single fate."

I placed my hand in Corvus's palm. He flinched, as if scorched by my warmth, before gripping my hand tightly.

"Seraphina, I swear," he murmured. "As long as I breathe, nothing will harm you."

"I chose you, Corvus. Willingly." I met his gaze.

A storm surged in his crimson eyes, making my heart skip a beat.

By dusk, a reception was held in the cathedral's annex.

Lysandra approached my table.

"Look at the 'Solar Brand' Valerius bestowed upon me," she gloated, stroking the glowing burn on her neck. "This is the mark of high-tier bloodline integration. The High Priest said I am overflowing with solar magic. Soon, we will conceive the perfect heir."

She sneered at Corvus. "Unlike some, who can't even earn a brand and have to rot next to featherless mongrels."

I lowered my eyes, suppressing a smirk. You only see the glory, sister.

You have no idea the Golden Eagles' aggressive bloodline drains the mother's life force from day one. I learned that the hard way in my past life.

"Look at this pathetic corner!" she mocked, pointing at our table. "No tribute, no crystal cores. Father, it makes me sick that our royal bloodline is tied to scavengers."

The temperature plummeted.

A pulse of abyssal dread rolled off Corvus. The crow elders rose in unison, their eyes locked onto Lysandra.

"Lysandra. Kneel. Apologize to my mate and my people," I commanded.

My father leaped out of his chair. He hadn't expected the outcasts' aura to physically crack the room's wards. "Lysandra! Apologize to your sister!"

Pinioned by Corvus's pressure and our father's roar, Lysandra's knees slammed onto the floor.

"I... I'm sorry..." she stammered, trembling.

Yet she still hissed, "Just wait, Seraphina. When my egg hatches, my child will tear your crippled mutts to shreds!"

Late that night in the Abyssal Keep, Corvus unfastened his heavy cloak.

Stripped of his outer shell, his true form was exposed. His shoulders were broad, his torso scarred. But what commanded the room were the wings on his back. They had no feathers. Instead, they were colossal constructs of bone, forged from dark-gold obsidian.

This wasn't a fallen crow. This was the Abyssal Bone Phoenix.

"Corvus, what are you?" I murmured.

He misunderstood my shock. His bone wings twitched, and he instinctively reached for his cloak. "Seraphina, don't be afraid. I know it's hideous—"

"I'm not afraid." I stepped closer. I pressed my fingertips against his chest, tracing the magical circuits.

He sucked in a breath. His muscles turned to stone. When I kissed the frantic pulse at his neck, a feral groan ripped from his throat. His bone wings snapped open, blotting out the ceiling.

"Seraphina... do you know what you're doing?" His voice was ragged. "My magic is unstable. I'm terrified I'll hurt you."

"Then unleash it," I whispered against his jaw. "Pull me down with you."

His restraint snapped.

He kissed me, his hands burying into my hair. His wings slammed shut around us, caging me against him as we fell onto the stone bed.

As his violent abyssal energy collided with the dormant Divine Phoenix ember in my veins, our magic surged.

"Mine..." he choked out, wrapping me entirely within his wings. "Forever."

"Yours," I gasped. "Corvus. My King."

Two months later, news rattled the Crystal Palace.

Lysandra was pregnant.

When the messenger arrived, I nearly choked on my tea.

It defied logic. In my past life, I learned Valerius's reproductive system was scorched by his own solar fire; his chances of conceiving were near zero.

If Valerius was functionally sterile, what was Lysandra incubating?

Days later, the Golden Eagles threw a celebration. On a balcony, a flushed Valerius raised his chalice. "Praise the Sun! My wife is about to deliver the sovereign of the Sky City!"

At the banquet, I was seated beside Lysandra. Her belly was far too large for a two-month pregnancy. Beneath her manic smile, her skin was ashen.

"Sister, it seems the Abyss ruined your constitution," Lysandra crooned, rubbing her stomach. "Don't feel bad. Even if you breed a clutch of blind crows, they'll still bow to my child."

"I wouldn't be so sure," I replied smoothly. "To guarantee an heir, some people get creative with black-market tonics. And recently, patrols reported feral avians lingering suspiciously close to the Eagle clan's quarters."

Lysandra's smile shattered. "What are you talking about?!"

I raised a glass of water to her. "May the Sun watch over you."

 Five days later, an unearthly shriek ripped through the Golden Eagle estate.

Lysandra went into premature labor during a thunderstorm. She bled for a full day and night. Three days passed without news. My father traveled to the estate but was held at gunpoint at the gates.

On the fifth day, my father sent a desperate message begging for help.

"It's time to go," Corvus murmured. He stood behind me, his wings now gleaming with a divine gold. He gripped my hand. "Let's see what miracle our sister birthed."

We stepped into the Golden Eagle palace. A stench of rotting blood hit us. The halls were empty. Following Lysandra's whimpering, we opened the door to the innermost chamber.

Lysandra sat collapsed in a pool of blood. Pressed against her chest was a tight bundle holding a monstrous lump of flesh.

It had no beak or feathers. Mutated bones pierced its blood-red skin. Its face was flat, with no eyes. A gaping, fanged maw was frantically chewing on its own scaly limb.

The royal physician knelt nearby, trembling. "Your Highness... this is the backlash of fusing low-tier bloodlines with forbidden catalysts. It has no sanity. It will rot in three days."

"Shut up! This is my child!" Lysandra shrieked. She hugged the monster tighter, ignoring it tearing flesh from her wrist. "This is the future sovereign!"