The river spat April out into a wide, moonlit basin.
The mist thinned, revealing jagged cliffs on both sides, their black stone glistening with dew. She tried to guide the drifting boat toward shore, but the current dragged her to the center—straight toward a waiting figure.
A single torch burned beside them, its light trembling against steel.
The silver-masked leader.
Two hunters stood behind him, silent as statues.
April's fingers closed around the Mirror. "You followed me."
The leader tilted his head. "Followed? No… we've been leading you here."
Her skin prickled. "Why?"
He took a step forward, the torchlight sliding across his armor. "Because the girl running from her blood will never survive it."
"I don't even know you."
"You will."
He pulled off his mask.
The face beneath was weathered, scarred—but his eyes… his eyes were the same molten amber she saw in her own reflection.
April froze. "No."
"Yes." His voice was low, dangerous. "You carry the fire because it is mine. I am Arion Vale—your uncle. And you were never meant to be hidden."
The current rocked the boat between them. Her heart pounded.
"You killed Eldric."
His expression didn't change. "Eldric lied to you. He stole you from the Ember Throne the night you were born."
April's breath caught.
"The hunters are not here to kill you, April. We are here to bring you home."
She shook her head. "Home? To what—chains?"
"To your birthright," he snapped, and for a moment, his voice was pure flame. "You are the last heir of the Ember Crown. Every moment you waste in hiding, our enemies grow stronger. The Mirror chose you because the kingdom will burn without you."
The Mirror warmed in her grip, almost humming at his words.
But another voice—hers—cut through the heat: If you go with him, you might never be free again.
The hunters moved closer.
April's pulse hammered. "If you're my family… why are you chasing me like prey?"
Arion's amber gaze darkened. "Because, little flame, only the hunted learn to run fast enough to survive the throne."
Before she could answer, the Mirror's surface flared—blinding gold—throwing every shadow into sharp relief. The boat lurched.
When her vision cleared… the hunters were gone.
Only her uncle's voice lingered in the echoing cliffs:
"You can run, April. But blood always finds blood."
The river's pull returned, dragging her into a dark channel. The torchlight vanished behind her.
Somewhere deep in her chest, the fire stirred—hotter than before.
🔥 Teaser :Every heir needs an enemy. April's about to meet hers.