Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)-Chapter 286 - 281: The Scorching of the Private Wing

The door slammed open with the kind of force only Edward could manage without technically violating palace security protocol.

He already knew.

He’d felt the shift in the ether the moment the array activated—sharp and unnatural, like someone had taken a divine thread and struck it against the very bones of the Empire. The warnings in the control room lit up in sequence: channel overload, core resonance spike, and arcane interference in the Emperor’s wing.

Damian had done it.

And Edward had prepared himself to walk into a battlefield.

He expected blood. Collapse. Maybe a body. His chest tightened at the thought of seeing Damian or Gabriel in pain or, worse, dead.

Instead—

He stepped into a room that looked like the end of a battle, not the start.

Smoke curled from the walls. The rug had fused to the floor. At least two chairs were blackened beyond recognition. Paintings hung crooked, their oils crackling softly with lingering ether static. A chandelier flickered above like it was trying not to fall. Furniture had been singed. Most of it had melted, and what remained was carved with black, faint, smoldering thunderstorm lines.

And in the center of it all stood Emperor Damian Lyon.

Not unconscious. Not bleeding out or gasping for air after his ether channels would be carved out of his lungs. Standing.

His arms were bare to the elbows, marked with fresh, raw thunder-scars—jagged, golden-red lightning bolts seared from fingertip to joint, glowing faintly as the last of the ritual’s power pulsed through his skin. His coat hung half-off one shoulder, scorched at the hem. His expression was calm.

But the real danger was standing ten feet to his left.

Gabriel was holding a broken crystal swan like a weapon. His hair was a little wild. His eyes glowed, not with ether like Damian’s, but with a level of incandescent rage that made Edward instinctively take one step to the side, just in case Gabriel launched.

Damian noticed Edward’s arrival first.

"We’re fine," he said, his hands up in defense, with the maddening ease of someone who wasn’t currently surrounded by smoking antiques and divine retaliation. "The ritual worked."

Gabriel didn’t even look away from him. "Don’t you dare try to justify this with results again."

Edward exhaled. "I know."

Gabriel blinked only once, straightening and shifting his gaze to Edward. "You what?"

"I knew he would do it," Edward said, stepping further into the room, his tone soft but dry. "I’ve known for three days. That’s how long it’s been since he made me summon Alexander at midnight and ordered a high-clearance ritual array delivered in secret." His gaze slid toward Damian. "You told me and Max that you would wait a year."

"I did," Damian said. "I waited until I couldn’t."

Edward’s eyes dropped to the scars. Then back up to his face.

He had braced himself to find the Emperor unconscious. Or worse, burned out completely, ether channels blackened and dead. He had imagined carrying him to the infirmary with Gabriel screaming behind him.

Instead, he found this:

Damian alive. Standing.

And Gabriel ready to murder him anyway.

"You lied," Gabriel muttered, turning toward Edward now with a fury that no butler in the realm could parry. "You knew, and you let him walk in here and burn himself. You didn’t even try to stop him."

Edward didn’t flinch. "Because I knew nothing would."

Gabriel threw up his hands. "So you thought, ’let’s prepare a nice funeral scene and keep the tea hot?!’"

"I came prepared to pick up the pieces," Edward said evenly. "Instead I find my Emperor on fire, half the room scorched, and you holding a weaponized swan. So forgive me if I choose to count this as a win."

Gabriel made a strangled sound.

Damian, still standing in the soot-ringed center of the room, cleared his throat. "I... think I may have overestimated the stability of the eastern ward line. That’s why the desk combusted."

Gabriel picked up the remains of a melted candlestick, bent, half-dripping, still warm to the touch.

"Gabriel—" Damian said quickly, already regretting every decision that had led to this moment.

"You are still sleeping on the couch," Gabriel snapped, turning with the dramatic wrath of a court executioner holding the last straw. "And do you know the worst part?"

Damian blinked. "The part where I saved you from a parasitic soul and miraculously didn’t die?"

Gabriel brandished the mangled candlestick like a royal decree.

"I can’t even drink this stupidity away! I’m pregnant."

There was a silence. A very long silence.

Damian, battle-scarred, power-singed, and still faintly glowing, had no defense prepared for that.

Gabriel wasn’t done.

"I can’t scream properly because it messes with my circulation. I can’t storm out because Edward locked down the wing. I can’t throw anything alive because everyone in this palace swore an oath to your face. And now—now—I can’t even glare in peace because my eyes sting when I’m angry for too long!"

Damian glanced toward Edward, who had returned halfway through with a tray of tea and what looked like a faint prayer for early retirement.

"Help," Damian mouthed.

Edward sipped his own tea.

"No."

Gabriel tossed the candlestick onto a smoldering chair and pointed a finger at Damian’s chest. freewebnσvel.cѳm

"You burned your ether channels. You etched your soul. You lit my damn chair on fire."

"I’ll fix the chair," Damian said automatically.

"And the paintings."

"I’ll repaint them."

Gabriel’s voice dropped an octave. "By hand."

Damian paused. "...I’ll commission a new set."

"By hand," Gabriel repeated.

Damian sighed. "Yes, dear."

Edward made a noise suspiciously like a laugh behind the tea tray.

Gabriel took a breath—short, furious, majestic—and folded his arms with a huff. "You’re lucky I can’t kick you."

Damian stepped forward just enough to press a kiss to Gabriel’s temple, soft and slow and careful.

"You could," he whispered. "And I’d still thank you."

Gabriel elbowed him in the ribs.

Hard.

Not a kick, but it would do.

Damian winced and grinned. "Still worth it."