Chapter 16 – Shadows in Alliance
Clara stood beneath the looming shadow of the derelict church on the outskirts of town, her arms folded and her lips pressed into a thin line. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the stained glass above her, casting fractured colors onto her pale skin. She didn't flinch when footsteps echoed from the side entrance.
George emerged, dressed sharply as always, with an air of cold authority that hadn't dulled since their last meeting. His eyes narrowed the moment he saw her.
"I didn't think you'd have the nerve to summon me," he said, voice cool.
Clara tilted her head. "And yet, here you are."
He stepped into the dim light, studying her. "Make it quick, Clara. I'm not in the mood for games."
"Neither am I," she replied smoothly. "That's why I'm here. We want the same thing, George. Power. Control. Nosi out of the picture. And Fred... vulnerable."
George's jaw clenched at the mention of Nosi. "You think I'd align myself with someone like you?"
"I think you're smart enough to know you can't do this alone," Clara replied, eyes glinting. "Fred trusts you less now. He's distancing himself. And Ruth? Her influence is crumbling. The girl—Nosi—has disrupted everything. You wanted her dead once. I want her out of the picture, too. We're natural allies."
George took a slow breath and looked away, staring at the cracked stone floor. "She was never supposed to survive, Clara. We had everything under control until she started showing signs of power."
"She was weak. Human, even," Clara sneered. "Now she has Fred's attention, his protection, and likely... his heart. If he mates her, we'll both be locked out of power permanently."
"I should've finished her myself when I had the chance," George muttered.
"Well, you didn't," Clara said sharply. "And now we both have to fix that mistake."
George turned to her, skeptical. "What exactly are you proposing?"
"A strategic alliance," Clara said. "I have access to the Underworld court. I know who hates Fred. Who envies him. Who's waiting for him to fall. I also have magic. You have information—his past, his allies, his patterns. If we combine forces, we can isolate him. Make him question her. Break the bond before it forms."
George raised a brow. "You really think you can destroy a fated bond?"
"I don't have to," Clara smiled. "I just have to delay it. Keep them apart long enough for doubt and fear to grow. Nosi's not ready for what being a queen means. She's fragile. And Fred—he's torn between his crown and his heart. We push the right buttons, they'll collapse."
George studied her in silence for a moment. "Why now?"
"Because he's making moves. Traveling between realms. Growing stronger. The longer we wait, the harder it gets," Clara said. "We strike now. Before she understands who she is. Before he chooses her officially."
George's face darkened. "And what happens when he finds out? When he comes for our heads?"
Clara stepped closer, her voice turning cold. "By the time he finds out, it'll be too late. He'll be too isolated. Too distracted. And she'll be too broken to fight back."
George looked at her for a long time, then slowly nodded. "What's the first step?"
"Undermine her," Clara said. "On Earth, she's already shaken. She's dealing with her own guilt, her powers, her past. She's vulnerable. I'll feed her lies. You—get to Fred. Make him doubt her. Remind him of her human blood. Of her mistakes."
George smirked. "You want to poison their minds."
"It's already working," Clara replied. "You just have to give it one last push."
Silence fell between them. For a moment, the air around the church grew thick, almost humming with anticipation.
George finally said, "And when Fred falls?"
Clara's smile widened. "Then we rebuild the Underworld in our image. You get your seat beside the throne. I get the power that was stolen from me. And Nosi? She becomes nothing more than a forgotten shadow."
George extended a hand. "Then let's do this."
Clara took it without hesitation.
But even as they sealed their pact, deep in the earth below, the ancient stones of the underworld stirred—whispers curling through the cracks of fate. For every scheme birthed in shadow, a reckoning waited in silence.