CHAPTER 7: The Scent of the Quarry

"Today," the Matron announced, her voice cutting through the armory, "you become the prey."

Nobody laughed.

Nobody moved.

We stood in silence beneath the torchlit ceiling. The room smelled of iron and old leather. Silver weapons lined the walls, but none of them were meant for us.

The Matron stepped forward holding a small obsidian vial.

"The Prince's transition has entered the predatory phase."

A ripple of unease moved through the room.

"The beast is trying to reveal itself before the expected time and we cannot stop it, can we?

"she smirked.

She uncapped the vial.

"And therefore today, we make each of you impossible to ignore."

One by one, she pressed a drop of dark oil onto our wrists.

When she reached me, the scent hit instantly. Bitter herbs. Smoke. Something ancient.

The oil disappeared into my skin.

"This is the Scent of the Quarry," the Matron said. "For the next twelve hours, you will shine to the Prince like torches in darkness."

Genevieve raised a trembling hand.

"How do we hide from something that can feel us through stone walls?"

"With your own will."

"That's impossible," I said before I could stop myself.

Several girls turned toward me.

The Matron's gaze landed on mine.

"Is it?"

"You said he can feel our resonance."

"Yes."

"You said he'll be hunting."

"Yes."

"Then hiding isn't skill. It's luck."

A murmur spread through the line.

The Matron took one step closer.

"Luck is the excuse people use when they fail."

I crossed my arms.

"And what happens when he finds us?"

The room went silent.

Nobody wanted the answer.

The Matron didn't hesitate.

"Then pray he is in a merciful mood."

Genevieve swallowed.

"And if he isn't?"

The Matron's expression remained cold then she smiled and said nothing.

Nobody spoke after that.

The Matron dismissed us.

I returned to the Spire with her words following me the entire way.

You become the prey.

The tower felt exposed now.

Like every wall had turned transparent.

I sat against the glass and closed my eyes.

Find the stillness.

Instead, my father's voice returned.

"The mind is a labyrinth, Aylin."

One of his rare lucid afternoons.

"Most people get lost because they keep running. Find the center and stay there."

Back then I thought he was talking about grief.

Now I understood he was talking about survival.

I stopped trying to force my thoughts quiet.

Instead, I went inward.

To the place where my mother's face was still clear.

Where my father's voice never faltered.

The one place inside me that the world hadn't managed to ruin.

I settled there.

And breathed.

The temperature dropped instantly.

Cold spread through the room.

My breath turned white.

Then I felt him.

Heavy.

Searching.

The sensation moved through the palace like a living thing.

Mind by mind.

Looking.

Hunting.

Then suddenly.....

Found you.

The words weren't spoken, I felt them.

An image flashed across my mind.

The palace below.

The Spire glowing.

Me standing at its center.

I should have panicked.

I didn't.

Instead, I opened the center of my labyrinth.

I offered stillness.

Peace.

A place where nothing needed to chase or run.

The pressure touched it.

Then slowed.

For the first time, it felt tired.

Then a scream shattered everything.

Mira, Oh no!!

The connection broke.

Pain shot through my skull.

I jumped to my feet and ran onto the balcony.

Fog swallowed the mountains.

Shouts echoed from below.

Guards were running.

Stone cracked somewhere in the lower palace.

And beneath it all, I felt Mira's terror burning like a beacon.

The fog beside me exploded outward.

Something landed on the railing.

Lucien.

His chest rose and fell hard.

Dark hair clung to his forehead.

His eyes were silver.

Not calm silver.

Wild silver.

The silver of something barely holding itself together.

He gripped the railing hard enough to leave marks in the stone.

Then he looked up.

"You silenced it."

His voice sounded rough.

"The shift."

I shook my head.

"I didn't."

"You did."

"I only stopped running."

For a moment neither of us spoke.

Then something unexpected happened.

He laughed.

It wasn't loud.

It sounded exhausted.

"Do you have any idea how many people have tried that?"

"No."

"Neither do I."

I frowned.

"That's not reassuring."

"It wasn't supposed to be."

His breathing gradually slowed.

The silver in his eyes remained bright.

"Were you hunting Mira?" I asked.

His expression changed immediately.

"No."

"Then why was she screaming?"

"Because fear spreads faster than truth."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

I folded my arms.

"You enjoy being difficult."

One corner of his mouth lifted.

"And you enjoy asking dangerous questions."

The sight caught me off guard.

It was the closest thing to a genuine smile I had ever seen from him.

Then it disappeared.

His gaze settled on me again.

Not searching.

Studying.

"I felt your mother."

The words hit harder than I expected.

My hands gripped the railing.

"What?"

"In the stillness."

His voice was quieter now.

"I felt where she should have been."

I couldn't speak.

Nobody had ever described grief that way before.

Not as pain.

Not as sadness.

As absence.

As a place that should have been filled.

The shouting below faded into the background.

For one strange moment, it felt like we were the only two people standing in the world.

Then Lucien stepped back.

Without warning.

Without another word.

He dropped from the railing.

My breath caught.

The fog swallowed him instantly.

Gone.

I stared into the darkness.

The stone beneath my hands was still warm from where he'd been.

Below, the palace remained in chaos.

The Hunt was far from over.

It had only begun.

I looked down at my wrists.

And froze.

The dark oil was glowing.

Silver light spread beneath my skin.

Slowly.

Steadily.

Growing brighter with every heartbeat.

My pulse stumbled.

The glow didn't fade.

It intensified.

As though something inside me had finally opened its eyes.