The forest had swallowed the night.
Not even moonlight seeped through the thick canopy overhead. The air felt heavy—too still, too watchful—as if the trees themselves were holding their breath while Lucien led Elara deeper into the unknown.
Her pulse thudded with every step.
The Bloodbound Echo had not faded.
A faint glow pulsed beneath her collarbone, warm and unsettling, like a second heartbeat growing stronger inside her.
"Lucien…" she whispered, stepping carefully over a tangle of roots. "The power earlier—when the red light burst from my chest—what exactly did I do?"
Lucien didn't answer at first. His jaw tightened, veins darkening beneath his skin as if the memory disturbed even him.
"You unleashed a force older than my curse," he finally said. "Healers of your lineage were once feared and revered. One surge of your blood-light can repel armies."
Elara's breath caught. "But I didn't mean to do it."
"That," Lucien said, his voice low, "is what makes it dangerous."
He stopped walking.
Elara almost bumped into him.
Before she could question him, he raised a hand—silent command.
She froze.
Lucien's senses sharpened visibly. His eyes gleamed, scanning the darkness ahead.
"Something is here," he murmured.
Elara swallowed hard. "Trackers?"
"No," he whispered. "Worse."
Her fingers tightened around her cloak. Every instinct told her to run, but something told her to stay close to him.
The wind shifted.
A faint rattling sound echoed through the trees.
Then… bones.
Whitened, brittle bones, hanging from branches on thin ropes—hundreds of them—clinking softly like chattering teeth.
Elara stepped back, horrified. "What is this place?"
Lucien exhaled slowly. "A warning."
The bone charms swayed, and a low humming vibration flickered across the forest floor. Birds, insects, even the distant marsh animals had gone silent.
"What does it mean?" Elara asked.
Lucien's words were careful.
"This is the Forest of Silent Bones. A burial ground for those touched by forbidden magic."
Elara shivered. "Why bring me here?"
"Because the priests will not follow," he said. "Their rituals lose power in sacred grounds."
She stared at the hanging bones again, fear coiling tight in her stomach.
Sacred.
Forbidden.
Death and protection woven together.
She forced herself to breathe. "Lucien… earlier you said my power was awakened. But awakened by what?"
Lucien turned to her slowly. His shadowed face was unreadable.
"My bite," he said quietly. "Blood awakens blood."
A pulse of guilt surged in his eyes—brief, but unmistakable.
Elara's lips parted. "So this bond… wouldn't exist without you?"
Lucien looked away. "No. But someone wanted it to happen. Someone set a path I walked without seeing."
Her mark throbbed painfully.
Elara pressed a hand to it. "I feel like something inside me is… waking up."
"You are," Lucien said. "Not all at once, but piece by piece."
He stepped closer—not touching her, but standing near enough that she felt the cold aura radiating from him.
"Elara, listen to me," he said. "You must not activate your power again unless you are ready."
Fear tightened her chest. "But what if I can't control it?"
His eyes softened. "Then I will help you."
A rustle in the trees snapped their attention away. Footsteps approached—the sound of leaves brushing against something tall and heavy.
Lucien stiffened. "Stay behind me."
Elara obeyed instantly.
The figure stepped into view.
Tall. Hooded. Draped in midnight-blue robes embroidered with silver runes.
The air around them shimmered faintly, as if light bent around their form.
Elara's breath froze.
Lucien's voice dropped to a protective growl.
"Warden."
The robed figure lifted their hood, revealing eyes pale as moonlight and skin marked with faint white sigils.
"A child of Light bound to a child of Night," the Warden said, voice echoing unnaturally. "The prophecy stirs again."
Elara's spine tingled. "Who are you?"
The Warden bowed slightly. "A guardian of sacred lands. I keep balance between the living and the damned."
Lucien tensed. "Why reveal yourself?"
The Warden's gaze drifted to Elara, studying the glowing mark beneath her collarbone.
"Because her awakening will fracture the world if she is not guided," they said. "And because the priests already hunt her."
Elara swallowed. "Why me? I didn't ask for this."
"There is no mercy in prophecy," the Warden replied. "Only necessity."
Lucien stepped forward. "If you are here to threaten her—"
"I threaten no one," the Warden interrupted. "But you, cursed one… you walk a fragile path."
Lucien's eyes darkened dangerously.
"And you," the Warden added, turning back to Elara, "must learn the truth of your blood before it consumes you."
"T—truth?" Elara stammered.
The Warden extended a single finger toward her mark. The symbol flared, and Elara gasped as a wave of warmth surged through her body.
Visions erupted behind her eyes—
A circle of robed figures chanting in crimson light…
A woman with glowing palms cradling a crying infant…
Blood spilling across ancient stone…
A vow whispered into darkness…
"She will be the last. She will be the key."
Elara stumbled, breath stolen.
Lucien caught her instantly, steadying her with a firm grip on her arms. His voice was sharp with worry.
"Elara. Look at me. Breathe."
The visions faded.
The Warden lowered their hand.
"You now glimpse pieces of the truth," they said. "Find the rest… before the priests tear it from you."
Elara's voice shook. "What am I?"
"A Healer of the First Light," the Warden answered. "The last of a sacred lineage."
Lucien's jaw clenched. "And the bond?"
The Warden's pale eyes settled on him.
"A union never meant to exist. Yet prophecy bends for neither of you now."
They turned away, their robe whispering against the ground.
"You have little time. The priests march at dawn."
Then, with a breath of cold wind, the Warden dissolved into mist.
Elara stood trembling, gripping Lucien's coat.
Her voice was a whisper.
"Lucien… I'm scared."
He looked down at her—eyes no longer cold, but filled with something fierce and protective.
"I know," he murmured. "But I will not leave you. Not now. Not ever."
The mark glowed softly between them.
And for the first time, Lucien didn't step away from the warmth it created.