Chapter 3: The Weight of Power and the Stranger in the Mist
The world was still spinning when Kian stumbled forward, half-dragged by Selene through the cracked stone corridors of the crypt. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, his muscles twitching from exhaustion. Power still hummed in his blood, erratic and wild, but his body had paid a price for its sudden awakening. Every step felt like dragging chains behind him.
Behind them, the crypt was littered with smoldering corpses—Bloodhunters reduced to ash by the raw fury he had unleashed. But not all of them had perished.
One had fled.
Selene's grip on his arm tightened as if reading his thoughts. "You shouldn't have used that power so soon," she murmured. "Your body isn't ready yet. It's too early."
"I didn't have a choice," Kian rasped. "They would've killed us."
"And now one of them knows what you are," she replied darkly.
They pushed through a crumbling archway into the cold, open air. It was night still, though dawn threatened on the horizon with pale blue light bleeding across the sky. The old graveyard surrounding the crypt was cloaked in fog, gravestones leaning like silent sentinels.
Kian collapsed against one, chest heaving. "What… what am I?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
Selene knelt beside him. "You are the last of the Nightborn. A relic of a bloodline everyone believed extinct. Your awakening marks the beginning of something much bigger, Kian."
He looked at her, pain and confusion in his eyes. "Then why do I feel like I'm dying?"
She placed a hand over his chest. "Because power demands sacrifice. The relic didn't just awaken your blood—it unlocked what your body was never trained to control. You're fighting against yourself now."
Before Kian could respond, a sudden gust of wind cut through the silence, followed by a whispering sound—like movement in the fog. Selene stood sharply, scanning the shadows.
"They're regrouping," she said under her breath. "The one who fled will return with more. We have to move."
"But I can't—"
"You'll have to."
She helped him to his feet again, and together they hobbled through the fog-covered cemetery toward the treeline.
---
Far from them, on the outskirts of the ruined crypt, the last surviving Bloodhunter—Rovek—watched them go, one hand pressed to the gash across his ribs. His red eyes gleamed with hatred and dread. That boy… that wasn't just a vampire. That was a Nightborn.
And he would tell the Queen.
She needed to know the prophecy had been broken.
---
Deep within the woods, Kian and Selene reached an old watchtower—half-swallowed by nature, vines crawling across its stone walls like veins. Inside, the space was dusty, filled with broken weapons and cracked furniture, but it offered shelter.
Kian collapsed against a wall, head throbbing, while Selene lit a rusted lantern and tended to his wounds with herbs from her cloak.
"What now?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"We lie low. Your presence will be felt by others now… Nightborn blood sings too loudly. You won't stay hidden for long."
He glanced up. "And what are you? Why are you helping me?"
Selene's eyes shimmered in the lanternlight. "Let's just say I lost everything because of your bloodline. But I also know what's coming. And I don't want the world to burn."
---
Hours passed.
Kian drifted in and out of sleep, haunted by dreams—visions of a throne forged in blood, of flames consuming cities, of a shadowed figure wearing a crown of bone whispering, "The Nightborn returns, and so too shall the war."
When he awoke, Selene was standing by the window, eyes distant.
"They're close," she said without turning. "We're not safe here either."
A sudden howl echoed through the forest.
And then silence.
Followed by a slow clap.
They turned.
Standing at the doorway was a tall figure clad in a dark coat that billowed behind him like smoke. His hair was silver-blond, tousled as if he hadn't cared to comb it. He had sharp cheekbones, a bored expression, and eyes the color of stormclouds—cold, unreadable.
"Cute hideout," he drawled. "But you two really don't know how to cover a trail, do you?"
Selene instantly pulled a dagger.
The man raised a brow. "Easy, princess. I'm not one of them."
"Then who the hell are you?" Kian asked, struggling to stand.
The stranger smirked. "Name's Rai. And you… must be the Nightborn."
Kian's breath caught.
"How do you know—?"
"Everyone's talking about you," Rai interrupted. "You lit up the underworld like a damn firework. Bloodhunters, Witches, Elders, and even the Council. They all felt it. And now they're coming."
Selene narrowed her eyes. "Why are you here then?"
Rai leaned casually against the doorway. "I'm here to save your sorry lives. Again."
Selene frowned. "Again?"
Before she could ask further, a crash shook the tower. Wood splintered. Shadows spilled inside.
A second wave of Bloodhunters—this time better armed, armored, and led by a woman with silver eyes and black markings on her face.
Selene cursed. "They're faster than I thought."
Kian tried to stand, but his legs buckled. "I can't fight. Not like this."
Rai sighed, almost disappointed. "Guess I'm doing all the work."
He reached behind his back and drew twin blades that shimmered with ancient runes. With a flick of his wrists, he launched himself into the fray. The way he moved was unnatural—graceful yet brutal, as if dancing with death itself.
Selene joined the fight, covering Kian while Rai carved through the attackers with ease.
Even Selene, fast as she was, couldn't keep up with him.
And then it happened.
The lead Bloodhunter lunged toward Kian with a spear laced with nightshade. Kian's eyes widened—but Rai appeared in a blink, disarming her with a kick and plunging both blades into her chest.
She let out a hiss before turning to ash.
The others, seeing their commander fall, retreated.
But one of them—Rovek—watched from the trees. Again.
He turned and vanished into the night.
---
When it was over, the tower was in ruins, corpses smoldering around them. Kian leaned heavily on the wall, staring at Rai.
"Who are you really?"
Rai wiped blood off his blade and shrugged. "Just someone who hates following orders."
Selene didn't buy it. "You saved us. Why?"
Rai gave her a lazy grin. "Because I'm bored. And because I think the world's about to get interesting again."
He turned toward Kian. "You, kid… you're the spark. And I want a front-row seat."
Kian frowned. "So you're not here to kill me?"
Rai laughed. "Not yet. But don't give me a reason."
---
Far away, Rovek knelt before a shadowed throne carved from obsidian. A voice echoed from the shadows above.
"You're certain?"
"Yes, my queen," he said, eyes downcast. "The Nightborn has returned."
A feminine figure stepped from the dark. Her eyes glowed violet.
"Then the prophecy is in motion. Prepare the Hunt."