The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the voices of the dead.
Jayden sat near the edge of the lake, knees to her chest, watching faint spirits drift past like mist. They didn't scream tonight. They watched her.
Whispering.
"She carries destruction..."
"The cursed child returns..."
"The Reaper is watching."
Jayden shivered. Her left eye—silver as the moon—ached when they got too close. Her hands trembled. She tried to shut it out. But one ghost lingered longer than the others—a little girl in royal garb, pale and flickering.
Jayden blinked, startled.
"You look like the Queen..." the girl said. "The one who let us all die."
Before Jayden could ask anything, the ghost faded into light.
Her breath hitched. Something inside her shifted. Queen?
She got up and walked back to where Azrael sat, unmoving, like a shadow carved from marble.
He didn't look at her.
He'd been distant all day. Cold. Silent. And it was driving her mad.
"Why are you pulling away from me?" she asked softly, voice tight.
He didn't answer at first.
Then, with a quiet intensity:
"Because the closer I am to you, the more likely you are to die."
Her heart ached. "That's not true."
"Everything around me dies eventually, Jayden."
"I just don't want it to be you."
He turned away, jaw clenched. But she wasn't done.
Jayden stepped toward him—angry, frustrated, confused. "Then stop saving me if you're just going to vanish into your shadows again. You act like I matter, then push me away like I'm a disease."
She didn't notice the rock under her foot until it was too late. Her ankle rolled, and she yelped—falling forward.
Azrael moved like lightning, catching her before she hit the ground. One arm around her waist, one hand steadying her back.
She was pressed against him—too close. Too warm. Too aware.
His hand lingered.
His breath was shallow.
And when she looked up into his golden eyes, she felt the shift.
"You don't understand what you do to me..." he said quietly.
Her heart pounded. "Then explain it."
He didn't. He only stared at her, like he couldn't speak the words—even if they were burning holes inside him.
That night, the ghosts screamed.
Jayden collapsed near the fire, her hands clutching her head. Dozens of voices crashed into her skull—memories that weren't hers, emotions that weren't hers.
Pain. Fire. Betrayal. Death.
"Kill her before it's too late."
"She'll destroy everything."
"Cursed thing."
Azrael appeared by her side instantly, kneeling beside her. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb against her temple.
"Look at me. Focus on my voice."
Her breathing slowed. The noise dulled. The spirits faded.
His hand stayed there, brushing against her skin.
"You weren't meant to carry this. But you're carrying it anyway..."
Jayden looked up at him through damp lashes. "Why do you care what happens to me?"
His golden eyes burned.
"Because you belong to me."
She froze.
He didn't take it back. Didn't explain it away. Just kept looking at her like he meant every word.
That night, in her sleep, Mammoth returned.
He smiled like a serpent.
"He won't tell you the truth, you know. Azrael's keeping it from you. He knows what you are."
Jayden shook her head. "You're lying—"
"Am I?" His grin widened. "I can show you your bloodline. I can show you the crown. I can show you how they begged the gods and broke their oath."
She woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing.
Azrael was already standing outside the tent, silent as a wraith.
She ran to him and clutched his sleeve. "I saw him again. Mammoth. He—he said you're hiding the truth."
Azrael's jaw tightened.
"He's a selfish monster. He'll twist your pain into obedience. Don't listen."
She hesitated. "Then tell me the truth."
He turned toward her.
"The black veins are from me. The silver eye—that's what happens when you touch death and survive. You see what others can't. But your curse... the truth of it..."
He paused. Then quietly:
"You're not ready."
Jayden looked down, hands clenched. "Then when will I be?"
Azrael lifted her chin with two fingers, his touch gentle.
"When you stop looking at yourself as broken."
She swallowed hard, her voice small. "If I really am cursed... will you still protect me?"
His eyes darkened, like the night itself bowed to his will.
"Even if the world burns because of you... yes."