Kairo awoke to the sound of wind howling through stone.
The world swam around him—his body heavy, lungs raw with salt. He lay on rough ground, not the smooth temple floor, but rock scattered with weeds and broken pillars. The air smelled of ash and earth, not sea.
He pushed himself up, wincing at the ache in his arm. The mark still glowed faintly, pulsing like an ember under his skin.
"Finally," a voice rumbled.
Kairo froze. It was not Selene's voice.
Shadows shifted across the valley. A shape emerged, impossibly tall, framed against the broken moonlight. At first Kairo thought it was a cliff moving—but then he saw her eyes.
Two burning sapphires in the dark.
The figure stepped forward, and the ground shook with her tread. She was a woman, but unlike any human Kairo had ever seen. Her skin was pale stone streaked with cracks that glowed faintly. Her hair fell like braided rivers of silver. And she was enormous—easily three times the height of a man.
A Nephilim.
Kairo stumbled back. "What—what are you?"
Her lips curved into something between a smile and a sneer.
"I could ask the same of you, little flame."
She knelt, her shadow falling over him. Despite her size, her movements were graceful, deliberate, like a predator studying prey. Her voice was deep, but carried a strange sadness.
"You lit the sea with your blood," she said, tilting her head. "The chains trembled because of you. That hasn't happened in an age."
Kairo swallowed hard. "The chains… you mean the Watchers?"
Her eyes narrowed. "So you do hear them."
"I saw them," Kairo admitted, his voice shaking. "In the water. They… they spoke to me."
The Nephilim's expression darkened. She reached down, one finger the size of his arm brushing the dirt near him. The ground hissed, as though the earth itself feared her touch.
"They would use you," she said. "Like they once used us."
Kairo frowned. "Us?"
For a moment, her mask slipped. Pain flickered across her face.
"My name is Liora," she said at last. "Daughter of the old world. Born of angel and flesh. A mistake the heavens would rather drown than remember."
Her words hung heavy in the valley. Kairo realized then—this giantess was not an enemy. She was something else.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the wind shifted. A distant horn echoed from the cliffs. Liora's head snapped toward the sound, her eyes blazing.
"Hunters," she growled. "The priests have found you."
Before Kairo could react, her massive hand closed around him—not crushing, but firm, protective. She lifted him with terrifying ease and turned toward the jagged cliffs.
"Hold still, little flame," she said. "If you wish to live, you'll trust me."
And with strides that shook the ground, Liora carried him into the dark.
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⚡ End of Chapter 5.