Mara's hand bled.
Slivers of mirror still clung to her palm, silver-edged and cruel. Her breath fogged in the bitter air of the chamber, where torchlight flickered against marble walls that had once felt like home.
The council's silence echoed louder than a scream.
She stood alone now.
They'd denied her warnings, dismissed her grief. But she had seen it—the way Lucian looked at him. The way Kyrell unraveled him. That... boy. That thing.
"You were mine," she whispered, to a reflection that no longer existed. "Until he came."
She hadn't meant to tell them. Not at first. But betrayal—like love—was a slow poison. And hers had been festering for far too long.
"I only gave them what they needed to protect him," she lied to herself.
But it hadn't protected Lucian, had it?
It had only broken him.
---
Elsewhere...
Lucian didn't sleep.
He hadn't, not truly, since Kyrell had returned to him—with memories sharp as blades, eyes heavy with the burden of truths too vast for his frame. Now, that body lay curled beside him beneath a makeshift shelter, their escape barely holding against the cold.
Kyrell stirred. Not from dreams. From visions.
Lucian could feel the way the air shifted when the boy's power coiled beneath his skin—like something ancient waking inside something young. His hand reached for Lucian's in the dark, blindly.
Lucian took it, held it tight.
"We'll need to move soon," Lucian whispered.
Kyrell didn't open his eyes. "They're coming."
"Who?"
"All of them."
Kyrell opened his eyes then—glowing faintly, unnaturally. "Mara told them. She gave them what they needed to track me. My blood. My name. My past."
Lucian's pulse stilled. "You remember that?"
"I saw her," Kyrell murmured. "In the mirror. In the vision. She wept even as she cursed you."
Lucian exhaled sharply. The ache that lived behind his ribs cracked deeper.
Kyrell sat up slowly. "We can't keep running."
"We're not strong enough yet—"
Kyrell turned to him. "You aren't. But I'm changing, Lucian. Every breath I take... brings me closer to what I was meant to be."
Lucian reached for him, the fear in his eyes unspoken. "And what's that?"
Kyrell's gaze burned. "A destroyer. Or a savior. Depends who survives me."
---
Meanwhile...
The council stood around the sacred table, whispering in low tongues. Mara had left. Damien was missing. Silas leaned in, whispering to Ray:
"Lucian's made his choice. The hunter lives. The curse lives."
"And the war begins," Ray muttered.
Renak stepped forward from the shadows then, placing something on the table.
A vial.
Filled with black blood.
"Track them," he said coldly. "Before Lucian forgets who he once was."
---
Back in the forest…
Lucian kissed Kyrell's shoulder gently, as dawn tried to rise behind the thick clouds. "They'll come for us."
Kyrell didn't flinch. "Let them."
"What if you lose control again?" Lucian whispered. "What if I can't stop you this time?"
Kyrell turned, voice barely audible.
"Then don't stop me."
---