Chapter 12

Smoke clung to the ruins of what once was shelter. The night bled red through the haze, and I could still taste ash on my tongue—bitter, hot, metallic. Betrayal burned deeper than any wound. I had trusted the face that turned on me, fought beside them, bled beside them—and now their blade had found my blood.

I staggered through the wreckage, every step dragging the weight of exhaustion behind it. My power still flickered under my skin like trapped lightning, unstable and whispering things I didn’t want to hear. The whispers were older than me—older than the moon itself. They spoke of the bloodline, of oaths broken and bonds cursed.

Auren’s presence was faint, buried somewhere deep in the noise. I couldn’t tell if it was real or if grief had finally learned to imitate his voice. But the pull toward him hadn’t vanished. It twisted through my veins, defying reason and distance.

The forest ahead loomed black against a silver horizon. I stumbled into it, clutching the gash across my ribs. Each heartbeat echoed like a drum of survival. The betrayal had come from someone I thought long dead—Talon, my brother-in-arms from the old world. His eyes had been empty when he faced me, the mark of Kael carved into his neck like a brand of ownership.

“What have you done?” I had asked before the fight tore us apart.

He hadn’t answered then. But his silence haunted me more than his blade.

Now, in the dark, the memory of his voice broke through—the same voice that once promised to die for me—now swearing loyalty to Kael. I pressed my hand against a tree, gasping for breath. The ground pulsed faintly, alive with a strange hum that matched the rhythm of my veins. My power wasn’t resting. It was watching.

“Run,” it whispered.

So I did.

Branches tore at my arms as I crashed through the undergrowth. Somewhere behind me, engines roared. Not wolves this time—machines. Kael’s soldiers. Humans reshaped by his will. My lungs screamed for air, my thoughts splintering into shards of panic and purpose.

A flare sliced through the sky ahead, harsh and white. I dropped low, hiding behind a fallen trunk. Footsteps spread out—measured, methodical. They were herding me like prey.

I felt the hum inside my chest again. It wasn’t fear—it was something older, something feral. I pulled from it and the world trembled. A ripple of energy expanded from my body, distorting the air, bending shadows. For one fleeting heartbeat I felt untouchable. Then agony crashed through me. The power turned inward, clawing at my ribs as if it wanted to escape.

I screamed. Light exploded outward. Trees splintered; soldiers staggered, covering their faces. I dropped to my knees as the forest tilted sideways.

Through the haze, a figure emerged—tall, lean, his armor streaked with blood and rain.

Talon.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” I rasped.

“You shouldn’t have left,” he said quietly. “You don’t understand what you are, Aria. Kael does.”

“I’d rather die than serve him.”

“You already did,” he said, eyes flickering with an unnatural glow. “That night in the mountains, when you chose the wolves over us.”

The memory stabbed through me—snow, fire, his hand slipping from mine. I had thought he died. I had mourned him. Yet here he was, remade and hollow.

“I came to bring you home,” he said, raising his weapon. “By Kael’s command.”

My heart twisted. “Then you’re already lost.”

The fight was brutal. His strikes were efficient, practiced; mine were desperate and wild. Lightning met shadow. Every blow carried years of grief and guilt. We tore through the forest like two storms colliding.

When it ended, we were both on our knees, blood dripping into the dirt between us. I could have killed him—but in his eyes I saw a flicker, a fracture in Kael’s hold.

“It’s inside you too,” he whispered. “The blood oath. You can’t run from it.”

Before I could answer, his mark pulsed once, bright as fire, then dissolved into ash. He collapsed, and the forest fell silent.

I pressed trembling fingers to his chest. Nothing. The quiet that followed was unbearable.

Then came the sirens.

I stumbled backward, heart racing. The hum beneath my feet grew louder, deeper, until the ground itself vibrated. The whispers in my head fused into a single voice—low, commanding, ancient.

“Swear your blood, and I will awaken.”

I froze. The air shimmered around me. The voice wasn’t Kael’s. It was something else—something that had been waiting for me.

“I don’t even know what you are,” I whispered.

“I am what you were born to become.”

I should have run. Instead, I drew my dagger and sliced my palm. Blood spilled onto the dirt, glowing faintly under the moonlight. The earth shuddered.

A surge of energy ripped through me. I screamed as fire replaced the lightning in my veins. The forest roared back to life—roots twisting, shadows bending, the sky pulsing in sync with my heartbeat.

And through it all, the voice laughed.

When I opened my eyes, I stood in a clearing filled with ash. Kael’s soldiers lay frozen where they stood, their eyes glassy, their bodies turned to stone.

Then—applause.

Slow. Mocking.

Kael stepped from the smoke, his smile sharp as a blade. “You’ve finally accepted what you are.”

My blood turned cold. “What did I just do?”

“You didn’t make a mistake,” he said softly. “You made a promise.”

The world tilted. Darkness closed in. Before I hit the ground, his breath brushed my ear.

“And promises, Aria… are meant to be kept.”