Elowen P.O.V
The castle felt hollow that night.
Like it had been emptied of its warmth.
Lyra had been cheerful all day, which made me hate the cheer even more. It felt like an act—like a final smile before the end. I should have listened to that instinct, the one that tells you when something is wrong.
But I didn't.
Because I was already living in fear of Kael.
And I didn't think I could afford to feel more.
Lyra had insisted on staying with me, even though I told her she shouldn't. She had said, softly, that she wasn't leaving me alone. Like I was a child. Like I needed protection.
I hated how much I wanted that.
We were in the courtyard again, where the ivy twisted like black veins and the air tasted of old stone and cold rain.
Lyra's voice was quiet. "You don't have to carry this alone."
I stared at her. "You don't understand."
Lyra shook her head. "No. I do."
Then I heard it.
A sound like a breath caught in a throat.
Not human.
The air chilled.
Lyra stiffened beside me.
Her eyes darted toward the archway.
Something moved in the shadows.
A figure stepped out.
Tall, cloaked, face hidden. But the presence was unmistakable—dark, heavy, and filled with hunger.
Lyra took a step back.
I reached for her.
The cloaked figure lifted a hand.
Not a weapon.
A mark.
A symbol burned into the air like a brand.
The symbol was familiar.
Kael's.
My blood ran cold.
The figure spoke, voice low and mocking.
"Tell him you saw me," the figure whispered to Lyra, "or he will never forgive you."
Lyra's eyes widened. "No—"
The figure's hand moved.
Lyra screamed.
I couldn't stop it.
I couldn't move.
I watched as the figure pressed something against her chest.
Not a blade.
A sigil.
The air around Lyra shimmered like heat.
And then she collapsed.
Her body went limp.
Her eyes fluttered once—like she was trying to look at me.
And then she was gone.
My scream tore from my throat.
The cloaked figure vanished into the darkness as if it had never existed.
I fell to my knees beside Lyra's body, shaking, sobbing.
And then I saw it.
A mark burned into her skin.
Kael's symbol.
The same one he used to seal the castle.
The same one he used to claim me.
The same one that now meant he had killed her.
My heart broke.
My mind shattered.
Because the truth was obvious.
Kael had done this.
He had used her.
He had used me.
He had taken the only thing I had left.
And I knew, in that moment, that I had to leave.
I had to escape.
Before he could take me too.
Kael POV
The moment I sensed Lyra's presence vanish, I knew.
Something was wrong.
My instincts were never wrong.
I rushed to the courtyard.
I saw her.
Lyra.
Lying on the ground.
Not moving.
The mark on her chest was not mine.
It was a mimic.
A forgery.
But the damage was already done.
Elowen's scream hit me like a blade.
My heart clenched—not with fear for myself, but with fear for her.
Because she would blame me.
Of course she would.
That was the plan.
The cultist had done exactly what I feared most:
He had made my name a weapon.
And Elowen would believe it.
The symbol was mine, but not my mark. The sigil was shaped to mimic the way I bind. The magic was dark, poisoned, and cruel.
Lyra's death was a message.
A trap.
I looked at Elowen, her face twisted in agony and rage, her body shaking.
Her eyes met mine.
And she saw only what she wanted to see.
A murderer.
I stepped forward, but she flinched away like I was poison.
"Do not come near me," she spat.
I stopped.
The words cut deeper than any blade.
"Lyra is dead," she whispered. "You killed her."
My jaw clenched.
No.
Not killed.
But I had failed her.
And the failure would haunt me.
"I did not," I said, voice low and controlled. "This was set up."
Elowen's eyes flashed. "Set up by you."
"No," I said, louder, and the sound of my own voice startled me. "By someone who wants you to leave."
Elowen stared at me like I was lying.
"You want me to leave," she whispered. "You want me to run. So you can control me without witnesses."
The rage in her voice was raw. It was real.
And it broke something in me.
Because she was right.
I did want her to stay.
I did want to control her.
But I did not want her to hate me.
Not like this.
Not because someone else used my name as a weapon.
I stepped closer again.
My hand reached for the band on her wrist.
She flinched.
I stopped.
"I will find who did this," I said. "And I will make them pay."
Elowen's eyes widened, furious.
"You will make them pay," she repeated, voice shaking. "Or you will make me pay."
The truth hung between us like a blade.
I wanted to tell her the real truth.
That the only reason I kept her alive was because I couldn't bear the thought of her dying.
That I couldn't bear the thought of losing her to anyone else.
But if I said that, she would never forgive me.
So I held my tongue.
And I let her believe I was the monster.
Because if she ran—
She would be safe.
And that, in a twisted way, was the only thing I could offer her now.