Cold.
That's the first thing I felt — not the kind that numbs, but the kind that watches. The air itself carried weight, thick with the metallic scent of blood and old magic.
Chains of glowing silver held my wrists and ankles, not biting into my skin but humming with energy. Every time I moved, I felt something pull at the inside of me — like the metal wasn't just restraining my body, but my soul.
Across the dim chamber, the bone-crowned figure stood by a high archway carved with runes that seemed to breathe. His presence distorted the air around him, like heat above flame.
He turned when I stirred. "Awake at last. I was beginning to think the moon had claimed you."
"Sorry to disappoint," I said, voice hoarse. "Whoever you are, you have terrible manners."
He smiled faintly, eyes glinting like rubies behind smoke. "I am Malachai, heir to the Voidblood Throne. And you—" He stepped closer, studying me as if I were both artifact and weapon. "—are the moon's mistake."
---
I pulled at the chains again, but the silver only pulsed brighter. "You're wasting your time. I don't even know what I am."
"Don't lie to yourself," Malachai said. "You felt it, didn't you? That fire in your veins. That hunger when the light touched you. You're not human. Not anymore."
His words crawled under my skin because part of me knew he was right.
"What do you want from me?"
"Nothing… yet." He smiled. "But the wolves want to use you. And Luca—"
At his name, my heart stuttered. "Where is he?"
Malachai tilted his head. "Interesting. You still think he's your protector."
"What did you do to him?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he turned toward the archway. "You'll see soon enough. When the moon rises, he'll come. They always come."
---
Time became a blur. Hours? Days? The candles burned low, replaced by new ones lit by unseen hands. I tried to stay awake, to fight the whispering in my head, but the silver bindings drained me.
At some point, I started hearing voices — low murmurs beyond the walls. Snarls. Growls. The sound of claws against stone.
Wolves.
When the door finally opened, it wasn't Malachai who entered. It was Luca.
He looked different — darker somehow. His eyes were no longer the calm silver I knew, but burning gold rimmed with shadow. His chest was bare, covered in streaks of ash and what looked like ritual marks.
"Luca," I breathed.
He didn't speak. Just stood there, expression unreadable.
"Say something," I whispered.
Malachai's voice drifted in behind him. "He can't. The binding took his words — for now."
"What did you do to him?"
"I gave him a choice," Malachai said. "His pack or you. He chose the latter, so I took his tongue before he could regret it."
I lunged forward, fury flooding my veins, but the chains yanked me back. "You monster."
Malachai only smiled. "I prefer king."
---
He stepped closer to Luca, laying a hand on his shoulder like a puppeteer steadying his creation. "He's not himself anymore. But part of him still remembers you."
"Let him go!"
Malachai ignored me. "Tell me, Aria — what happens when sin meets silver? You think the prophecy will save you? It doesn't promise peace. It promises destruction."
He gestured toward Luca. "And this is how it begins."
The air cracked with power. Luca's eyes flickered — pain, resistance, something human fighting to surface. He took one step toward me, then another, hands trembling.
"Luca, it's me," I said. "Fight it."
Malachai whispered something in a language that tasted like poison. The runes on Luca's body flared black, and he roared — half-human, half-beast — lunging straight at me.
---
I barely had time to react. The chains snapped, not by my doing, but by something inside me. The air around me shimmered, and I felt that same surge from before — the collision of light and shadow.
The blast threw Luca backward into the wall. The silver fire didn't burn him — it wrapped around him, holding him still.
Malachai's smile faltered for the first time. "Impossible…"
I stood, the last of the silver melting off my wrists like liquid moonlight. My voice came out colder than I recognized. "You made a mistake binding me with silver. You forgot — silver isn't your weapon. It's mine."
Malachai's eyes narrowed. "You're not supposed to exist."
"Neither are you," I shot back, and the ground cracked between us.
---
He raised his hand, and the shadows obeyed, swirling into sharp, screaming shapes. I met them with light — not the clean silver I'd used before, but something darker, wilder, a mix of brilliance and storm.
Our powers collided with a roar that shattered stone and sent sparks of energy flying through the air.
When the smoke cleared, Malachai stood smirking, wounded but standing. "You're strong, girl. But not ready."
"Try me."
He only laughed. "I don't need to. The moon will do it for me."
And with that, he vanished into shadow, leaving the chamber in ruin.
---
Luca collapsed, breathing hard, eyes flickering between gold and silver. I rushed to him, catching his shoulders. "Hey, look at me. It's over."
He winced, voice broken and raw. "I… tried… to stop him."
"I know."
He shook his head weakly. "No… Aria… he's not the worst of them. He's just the first."
I froze. "What do you mean?"
But his eyes rolled back before he could answer, and the silence returned — heavy, charged, filled with unspoken promises and fears.
I looked at the moonlight spilling across the floor and felt it again — that pull in my blood, the one the spirit had warned about.
The prophecy wasn't waiting anymore.
It had already begun.