Chapter 76: Of Fire and Fracture
The morning that followed should have been gentle.
But the sky was blood-washed, cloudless. The wind moved in reverse—pulling instead of pushing, whispering secrets instead of singing them. Something ancient had turned its gaze upon the earth, and the world remembered the taste of gods long buried.
Lucian stood bare-chested at the mouth of the ruined sanctuary, his hand gripping the obsidian railing as Kyrell stepped into the light behind him. The mark on Kyrell's neck shimmered faintly—a soft silver brand that never faded. And beneath Lucian's ribs, something answered every time Kyrell neared.
The bond was real. And it was loud.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Lucian said without looking back.
Kyrell moved to him. "Yes."
"Something broke the moment I marked you."
"No," Kyrell corrected gently. "Something ancient woke."
They said nothing else for a moment. Then—
Lucian turned, eyes glowing faintly now even without blood. "We don't have much time."
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Renak—The Hidden Library
He had returned to the forgotten vault beneath the council keep—where no light reached, and the dust on the scrolls whispered the true names of the blood-born.
Renak laid out the recovered document again, this time matching it with others Silas had hoarded.
One thing had become clear: Lucian was not just heir. He was created to be.
> "Born of ruin and requiem. The last bloom of First Blood. Should he bond with the vessel of the sun...the world will tilt."
Kyrell.
Renak whispered the name like a curse—and then a prayer.
He didn't hear Mara approach until her fingers brushed the edge of the paper.
"You're late," she said.
"I'm right on time," he replied grimly. "They're no longer just lovers, Mara. They're a prophecy fulfilled. And you—"
"—still want him," Mara finished, voice cold. "But wanting Lucian has never stopped the world from burning. Has it?"
---
(Kyrell—That Evening)
The evening bled into something darker. Lucian sat at the window again, jaw tight. Kyrell moved behind him, fingers grazing his shoulder.
"You know they'll start making moves" Kyrell said.
"They are,already"
Lucian stood, chest brushing against Kyrell's. Their bond surged again—hot and wild. The heat between them never truly settled now. Their bodies remembered too much.
"Then let them," Kyrell whispered, dragging his lips across Lucian's throat.
Lucian grabbed him by the waist, pulling him into his lap. "They want to see me fall. Let them watch me burn instead."
The kiss was deep—not like the first, not searching, but hungry. Kyrell arched into him, mouth parting, hands already tangled in Lucian's hair as Lucian pressed him hard against the chair, teeth grazing his lower lip.
"You belong to me now," Lucian breathed.
"I always did," Kyrell whispered, voice rough with need.
---
(Elsewhere—Damien's Camp)
Damien stood at the edge of the great mirror lake, watching shadows gather on the water's surface. His eyes burned. He could feel it—their bond.
It wasn't just love anymore.
It was power. A power ancient enough to raze legacies.
He gritted his teeth. "This wasn't how it was meant to go."
From the darkness, a voice answered:
> "Then change the ending."
Damien spun. A figure cloaked in ivory robes stepped forward—her hands skeletal, but her eyes—those were alive.
"Who are you?" he hissed.
"I am the one your council buried," she whispered. "And I will give you the flame you need to burn the prophecy."
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