Kael's POV
I'm moving before I think.
My shadow blades slice through the first attacker before he even sees me coming. His body crumbles to ash. The second one spins around, eyes wide with shock.
"Huntsman?" he gasps. "What are you—"
I cut his throat. No hesitation. No mercy.
These aren't Council enforcers. They're Marcus Thorne's personal assassins, and I know exactly why they're here. The same reason I am.
Mira Chen. The last Memory Weaver.
Except I was supposed to bring her in alive. Marcus promised me she'd get a fair trial, a chance to prove she wasn't dangerous like the others.
He lied.
These men aren't here to capture. They're here to kill.
Rage burns through me, hot and unexpected. Marcus used me as bait. Made me find her, watch her, report her location. All so his killers could finish the job when her powers awakened.
I should've known better. I should've seen it coming.
Another attacker lunges at me. I dodge and drive my blade through his chest. He screams once before dissolving into nothing.
Through the chaos, I see her. Mira, standing in the center of the room with silver light pouring from her eyes. Her hair floats around her like she's underwater. She looks terrified and powerful and so young it makes my chest hurt.
A cat-man—no, a guardian spirit in half-transformed state—fights three attackers at once. He's good. Fast. But he's bleeding badly and there are too many enemies.
Then I see the woman by the door. Shapeshifter. I recognize her signature instantly—Morgana, Marcus's right hand. The one who's been posing as Mira's aunt for eighteen years.
Everything clicks into place.
Marcus planned this from the beginning. Find the Memory Weaver baby. Hide her. Raise her. Wait until her powers awakened. Then kill her when she was most vulnerable.
I'm such an idiot.
I take down two more attackers, my blades moving on pure instinct. Fourteen years of training. Fourteen years of hunting Memory Weavers because I believed they were all monsters who deserved to die.
But Mira Chen feeds stray cats and talks to plants.
She apologizes to flowers when she trims them.
She's not a monster. She's just a scared girl who didn't ask for any of this.
The guardian spirit—Leo, I heard her call him—spots me. His amber eyes go wide with recognition and fury.
"Stay back, Huntsman!" he snarls, putting himself between me and Mira. "You can't have her."
"I'm not here to hurt her," I snap, cutting down another attacker.
"Liar! You're the Memory Weaver killer! You've murdered dozens of her kind!"
"They were criminals and rogues," I say, but the words taste like ash in my mouth. Were they? Or were they just people Marcus wanted dead?
How many innocent people have I killed following his orders?
Leo doesn't wait for an answer. He launches himself at me, claws extended, moving faster than any human could. I barely block his first strike. His second nearly takes my head off.
We crash into the wall, trading blows that would kill a normal person. He's strong. Ancient. And absolutely committed to protecting Mira.
"She's innocent!" I shout, blocking a slash aimed at my throat. "I know she is!"
"Then why are you here?" He drives his claws toward my chest. I twist away, and they tear through my jacket instead.
"Because Marcus lied to me!" The words explode out of me. "He said she'd get a trial. He said we'd bring her in safely. But he sent assassins to kill her the moment her seal broke!"
Leo hesitates for just a second. "You didn't know?"
"No." The admission feels like swallowing glass. "I didn't know."
That's when Mira screams.
We both turn. Three attackers have gotten past us, closing in on her. She backs away, her silver light flaring wildly, but she doesn't know how to fight. Doesn't know how to defend herself.
One of them raises a blade aimed at her heart.
I throw my shadow-blade like a spear. It catches the attacker in the back, and he drops instantly.
But two more take his place. And more are coming through the broken windows. So many of them.
Marcus really wants her dead.
"We need to work together!" I yell at Leo.
He snarls but nods. We turn to face the attackers as a unit—the guardian and the hunter, protecting the girl we both know is worth saving.
We're doing well. We're actually winning.
Then Morgana laughs.
"How sweet," she purrs. "The Huntsman and the guardian, fighting side by side. But you're too late." She raises her hand, and I feel dark magic gathering. "Marcus wants her alive if possible, dead if necessary. Guess which option we're choosing?"
Before either of us can react, the largest potted plant in the corner explodes.
Not explodes. Transforms.
Wood and leaves and vines twist together, growing impossibly fast. Within seconds, a massive woman made entirely of bark and flowers towers over us, her eyes glowing green, her voice like wind through trees.
"ENOUGH!"
The word shakes the entire building. Every attacker freezes. Even Morgana steps back, her confident smile faltering.
The tree-woman—a dryad, an actual dryad—points one wooden finger at Morgana. "You dare attack this child? The daughter of those who showed me kindness when no one else would?"
"Rowan?" Mira whispers, staring at what used to be her favorite fern. "You were... you were always..."
"A guardian, yes." The dryad's voice softens when she looks at Mira. "Bound to protect you by oath to your mother. And I have failed you, little one. I could not speak the truth while the seal held, could not warn you. But the seal is broken now." Her wooden features harden as she faces us all. "And I will not fail again."
Vines explode from the floor, wrapping around every attacker in the room. They scream and struggle, but the wood is too strong. Within seconds, they're all trapped, hanging helpless in the air.
Morgana tries to run. A vine catches her ankle and yanks her backward. She slams into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.
The dryad turns to me and Leo. "You. Guardian. You fought well." Then her eyes narrow on me. "And you. Huntsman. Killer of Memory Weavers. Give me one reason I should not crush you where you stand."
I meet her gaze steadily, even though my heart is hammering. "Because Mira needs protection, and I'm offering it."
"Why would the famous Memory Weaver killer protect one?"
"Because I was wrong." The words hurt, but they're true. "I've been wrong about everything."
Mira stumbles forward, her silver light finally fading. She looks exhausted. Terrified. But when she speaks, her voice is steady.
"Rowan, wait. He—" She glances at me, and I see confusion in her brown eyes. "He killed the attackers. He saved me."
"He is still a Huntsman, child. He has murdered your kind for years."
"I know." Mira's hands clench into fists. "But right now, people are trying to kill me, my whole life is a lie, and I don't know who to trust anymore." Her voice breaks. "Please. I just—I just want the truth. From everyone."
The dryad studies her for a long moment. Then she sighs, and it sounds like leaves rustling. "Very well. But know this, Huntsman—if you betray her, I will turn you into fertilizer."
"Understood," I say.
The vines release Leo and me but keep the attackers trapped. Morgana spits blood and glares at Mira with pure hatred.
"You think you've won?" she hisses. "Marcus knows you've awakened. The entire Supernatural Council knows. And they're coming for you with everything they have."
"Let them come," the dryad says calmly.
But I know the truth. Marcus won't stop. He'll send armies. And when they come, they won't care about collateral damage.
"We need to leave," I say. "Now. This building isn't safe."
"Where would we go?" Mira asks. She sounds so lost.
"I have a safe house. Between dimensions. No one can find it unless I bring them there."
"And we're supposed to trust you?" Leo growls.
Mira looks at me—really looks at me—and I see the moment she makes her decision. "He's been buying roses every week for three months."
I freeze. She noticed?
"White roses," she continues softly. "For remembering someone who died. You never told me who." Her eyes search mine. "Were they killed by a Memory Weaver?"
My throat tightens. "My mother. She was manipulated into walking into traffic."
"I'm sorry." And she means it. I can hear it in her voice. "But I'm not the person who did that to her."
"I know." The admission feels like losing a war I've been fighting for fourteen years. "I know you're not."
She nods slowly. "Then I'll trust you. For now."
Leo protests. The dryad warns me again. But Mira has made her choice.
I'm reaching for her hand to transport us when the ceiling explodes.
A man drops through—tall, handsome, wearing an expensive suit that doesn't have a single wrinkle despite falling through a roof.
Marcus Thorne.
And he's smiling.
"Hello, Mira," he says, like they're old friends. "I've waited eighteen years to meet you." His cold eyes shift to me. "And Kael. My best hunter. I'm so disappointed."
Then he raises both hands, and I feel power gathering that makes the air itself scream.
"Did you really think I'd let you take her?"