BLOOD ON HER LIPS

Valkhara

I didn’t return to the suite right away.

Not because I couldn’t.

But because I didn’t know what I’d do if I saw them.

Sevrin. Azric. The bond.

Everything inside me still vibrated with magic. With violence. With blood.

Caelun’s blood still stained my arms, dried beneath my fingernails. My leathers were torn, soaked in the iron stink of a kill I didn’t regret.

Because I didn’t just win.

I dominated.

I didn’t just survive.

I made them watch.

The Council. The nobles. The enemies. The allies. All of them watched as I tore a man apart with my bare hands and declared myself fire-born and unbent. And the worst part?

I liked it.

Power had never fit me so perfectly.

By the time I made it back to the suite, the sky outside had gone a dusky crimson. Twilight bleeding into darkness.

I opened the door quietly, expecting silence.

What I found?

Was them.

Sevrin sat in front of the hearth shirtless, legs spread, one elbow on his knee, his blade in his lap sharpening metal that didn’t need to be sharpened. His eyes lifted the second I entered, and his jaw flexed with restraint.

Azric leaned against the stone arch near the balcony, arms crossed over his chest, hair messy, violet eyes lit with something between approval and danger.

The tension in the room was molten.

Neither of them said anything at first. They didn’t need to.

Because the bond? The bond spoke for them.

She came back with blood on her lips and power in her walk.

She’s becoming what they feared.

“You killed him like you were born for it,” Sevrin finally said, voice low, blade still sliding against steel.

Azric smirked. “The Council won’t know whether to crown you… or cage you.”

“I vote crown,” I muttered, heading for the wash basin.

Azric’s gaze tracked every step I took.

“Then you better be ready to burn anyone who tries to cage you.”

I was about to reply when the air shifted.

Magic snapped through the room like a spark between dry bones.

A pulse. A familiar crack.

All three of us turned at once.

another scroll now lay on the center table.

Black wax seal. Enchanted parchment. The scent of blood-magic curling off it like smoke.

Azric moved first but didn’t touch it.

I crossed the room and placed my fingers against the seal.

It hissed.

The wax cracked.

Crimson light bled from the parchment as the scroll unrolled on its own letters writing themselves in blood-red ink as we watched.

The Council never spoke with their voices. They spoke through commands. Through threats dressed as trials.

By decree of the High Blood Council,

At sundown tomorrow, you will face your Second Trial of Worth.

This trial will test not your strength—but your control.

Within the Mirror Chamber, illusions will be cast.

Some will tempt. Some will torment. All will target your mind.

You must survive until the hourglass runs dry.

Should you lose yourself… you will not return.

Let your mind speak.

The scroll pulsed once then disintegrated in a shimmer of red ash.

I stood there, still, as the meaning sank in.

“They want to break you,” Sevrin said behind me. “Not your body. You.”

Azric stepped closer. “The Mirror Chamber doesn’t just show illusions. It knows things. It can pull from your bloodline, your trauma, even your fantasies. Everything you’re trying to bury? It’ll dig it up.”

“Sounds familiar,” I muttered, glaring at him.

He smirked. “Difference is, I whisper them. The Mirror screams.”

I didn’t flinch. “Then I’ll scream louder.”

Sevrin stepped to my side. “This isn’t just about fear, Valkhara. The Chamber feeds on instability. It’s sent many mad powerful ones.”

I looked between them. “Then maybe it’s time I proved how stable I actually am.”

Azric’s eyes narrowed. “They don’t want you to fail. They want to study you.”

That made me pause.

“What?”

Sevrin folded his arms. “You don’t get it yet, do you? You’re the only one here that’s bonded to more than one heir. You survived the first trial not just by skill—but by instinct.”

Azric’s voice was a whisper of steel. “You didn’t just win. You changed the board.”

My mouth went dry.

This wasn’t just a test anymore.

It was surveillance.

They wanted to see what I’d become.

And they were planning how to stop it.

I turned to the fire, letting its warmth wrap around me as I stared at the flames.

“I entered this to win. Not to be dissected.”

“You’ll need to do both,” Azric said. “Survive the Chamber. But don’t show them everything.”

“Keep something buried,” Sevrin agreed. “Or they’ll take it and twist it.”

She’s not just becoming something dangerous, Azric whispered through the bond, she already is.

I shut my eyes.

Tomorrow, they’d throw illusions at me.

Fantasies. Memories. Despair.

And I’d have to face it alone.

But I wasn’t afraid.

Because the last thing they wanted?

Was for me to realize just how strong I already was.