HOW WE FEEELLIIINNGGGG????
DaxosThey thought the chains would hold me.They wrapped my arms in cursed iron, pressed spell after spell into my skin, carved wards across my back that boiled when I so much as breathed too loud.But magic doesn’t contain obsession.It just feeds it.And I have had a hundred years to starve.A hundred years to feel her soul rise again.They thought locking me away in this underground tomb would keep me blind.But I felt her the second she took her first breath.Felt the curse that bound her wrapped around her like a shroud. Magic meant to keep her hidden from me. From herself. From the world.They said the Emberborn line had been extinguished.They lied.Because her flame still burns.And it burns for me.You came.I said it into the void the first time I felt her truly connect. When her bond flared a
ValkharaAll four of us were barely through the door before the tension exploded.“He got in her head,” Sevrin barked. “He reached her. That shouldn’t be possible. Not with that potion.”Azric stood against the hearth, arms crossed, voice tight with control he was about to lose. “We don’t even know who he is yet.”Sevrin turned, furious. “And you don’t think we should? You want to wait for him to come to us?”“He’s already inside her bond, Sevrin. If we provoke it—”“I’ll kill him if I have to.”“Try it,” I snapped. “And see how fast I take your throat.”They both turned to me. Neither backed down.Nyra groaned, flinging her satchel onto the table. “Gods, you two are exhausting. One of you’s practically vibrating with murder and the other is whispering to shadows. Maybe take a deep breath before we all combust.”“Easy for you to say,” Sevrin growled. “You’re not the one being replaced.”“You’re not being replaced,” I bit out. “No one’s being replaced.”“Then what is he?” Azric asked so
After our post-sex haze and the intrusion of him, I walked out of the shower to Azric waiting by the fire.Sevrin standing with his back to the room, blade pressed to a whetstone he wasn’t even using.Both of them looking like they were hanging on by a fucking thread.I sighed but I didn’t speak.I didn’t need to.Azric’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t say anything at today."I dropped into the nearest chair. “Nope.”“And they chose you anyway.”“They felt me.”Sevrin turned around slowly, something dark in his expression. “That wasn’t just your power though, twas it?"My mouth went dry. “I don't know”“I think it may be mine, but something else pushed it.”I hesitated. "I heard a voice. THAT voice we all heard earlier.”Both of them froze.Azric crossed to me, fast, crouching in front of the chair.Sevrin’s fists clenched.“Could be the third,” Azric muttered.“I think…” I swallowed hard. “I think he’s trying to help me. Even from wherever he is.”Sevrin’s jaw flexed. “Or manipulate you.
ValkharaThe chamber was nothing like the arena.It didn’t bleed. It didn’t echo. It whispered.A stone table dominated the center of the space, long, dark, carved with old runes that pulsed with soft red light. Seven chairs sat around it. One for each faction. One for each survivor.Only five of us remained.And not all of us would leave.Above us, behind walls of enchanted glass, the Council watched.I didn’t look up.I didn’t need to.Let them stare. Let them whisper.Let them feel what was coming.“Lady Valkhara,” one of the guards said flatly, gesturing to a chair near the table. “Take your seat.”I did not move.He blinked. “It’s mandatory—”I took two steps forward, then stood behind the chair. Not sitting. Not bending. Not playing.Let them notice.The other contestants filtered in slowly.One male from the southern bloodline tall, broad, proud. I’d seen him gut a chimera like it was made of paper.One witch-born woman from the dusk provinces sharp eyes, silent lips.One vampir
ValkharaI was lying on the floor.Not gracefully. Not dramatically. Just… flat.Wrapped in a thick blanket, hair still crusted with blood from the Mirror Chamber, one eye cracked open as I stared at the ceiling like it might offer divine answers.It did not.Sevrin sat in the corner sharpening a blade...again.Azric paced near the balcony, pausing only to glance at me every few seconds like he wasn’t sure if I’d combust or throw up.I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t sure either.The burn from the Trial still lingered under my skin. Not physical, but magical. Emotional.Worse.The bond with Sevrin and Azric pulsed low in my chest, steady but heavy. And beneath all of that?Something else.A faint pulse.Distant. Unsteady.Not from either of them.Not mine.But still... connected.It came and went in short, aching bursts. Like someone screaming underwater.Like a chain rattling behind a locked door in the back of my head.I sat up too fast and groaned. Azric appeared beside me instantly.“Y
ValkharaThe Mirror Chamber was silent when I entered.Not peaceful. Not calm.The kind of silence that screamed.No footsteps echoed. No wind stirred.Only magic pulsed in the walls alive and waiting.The door sealed behind me with a deep, final thud.I didn’t flinch.I wouldn’t give them that.Glass surrounded me ceiling to floor. Every wall reflected the room, the door, the pedestal in the center.But not me.I had no reflection.And that was the first warning.The enchanted hourglass waited atop the pedestal. Tall, slender, its sand deep red like powdered blood. The moment I crossed the threshold fully, it flipped itself.The Trial had begun.Let your mind speak.I took a breath.The air was too still. Too thick.I didn’t trust it.Then it started.The mirrors rippled not like water, but like skin and shifted.Images flashed, then vanished.A battlefield. Fire. Screams.Me, drenched in blood, sword in hand.Me, kneeling. Collared. Bound.Me, begging someone I didn’t recognize not