Sylas"You should've killed him when you had the chance," Colin Owl mutters from the corner of my chamber, his feathers rustling as he shifts on the high wooden perch.I don't answer him right away. My fingers are busy tracing the lines on the spell-scroll that still glows on the floor, heat lingering in its center like a quiet ember. It's done now and that's final. No one-not even the Dark Council-can undo it. Not unless they tear the very fabric of the portal apart, and if they try, they'll burn with it."Killing is easy," I finally say, voice low and controlled. "But killing is the kind of justice they understand. I want something else. I want them powerless first. I want them afraid and lost. I want them to taste what they served me."Colin doesn't speak again because he knows better. He may be a creature of wisdom, but even wisdom knows when to hold its tongue.I lean back against the wall of my chamber. It's quiet here, tucked deep into the Forgotten Hollow, where even echoes kn
Bella's POV"Someone's in the portal," my wolf says suddenly, her voice in my mind as clear as if she were standing beside me. She seems to be happier these days than ever since I became the Darkqueen. I'll even say she's more active than I am now, and that's because I finally got the power she'd always craved for.I stop walking. The Queen's Passageway is a long hallway deep beneath the fortress, which is usually calm, but now it feels... strange."What do you mean someone's in the portal? Which portal?" I whisper."The one we locked down. The one no outsider should ever reach. But news flash, Bella, a stranger walked right into it. This might not be an ordinary person, so you have to act fast."I narrow my eyes, glance around. No one else is here-just me, and the floating amber lights that line the hallway. But the air feels colder and heavier."Do you know who it is?""No. But they don't belong to our blood. Not yours. Not Malrik's. Not anyone from the Dark Council."I take a deep
Kaelith's POV "You've taken the wrong turn again."The bird says it before I even realize it myself. I stop walking, halfway across a muddy stretch of forest path, and look up. He's perched on a crooked branch above me, feathers ruffled like he's annoyed just to be seen with me. His name is Winthrop, though I mostly call him "Stop That" because that's what I end up yelling at him the most."This path leads to the ridge," I argue, but there's no strength behind the words. I already know he's right."The ridge is that way," he says, flapping his wings once, twice, with enough drama to knock a few damp leaves from the tree. "But sure, ignore the creature that can fly. Who needs a bird's-eye view anyway?"I sigh and pivot back the way I came, squelching in the mud that has somehow climbed all the way up to my knees. My boots are a disaster. My cloak smells like wet moss and regret. And my hair? My hair's doing this thing where it tries to braid itself just to get out of the way."You cou
Talia's POV There's hardly any noise in the palace tonight. I should be able to relax in the stillness and the soft moonlight coming through those high windows, but honestly, it feels... It seems like there's a piece missing from the stone, like it was cut out and not restored. I walk through the hallway just outside my room, feeling the cold marble under my bare feet. I keep saying to myself that I'm only a bit restless. I can sense the anxiety from the upcoming final trial.But then I feel the stone under me vibrating.It starts off slowly, almost like a whisper from your memories. I feel this weak pulse, barely noticeable, and I can't help but think it's all in my head. I calm down and stand as still as the moonlight, I feel it again. The tempo feels consistent and deliberate, as if the palace is inhaling and exhaling.And I can feel it inside me too.I feel a gentle tugging under my ribs, like something deep inside is being pulled by a thread. It doesn't hurt, but it definitely m
Kaelith's POVLong ago, the ancient gods would softly communicate with the trees, and these trees would relay their insights to the flowing rivers. Consequently, the rivers transformed into channels of truth, imparting this wisdom to all those who are prepared to invest their time in attentive listening.From a young age, I developed the skill of listening attentively.The forest played a significant role in shaping who I am today. I am not like this because my parents died and left me behind, nor is it due to being orphaned by the effects of war that have taken so many lives. Unfortunately, my mother passed away while bringing me into this world, and as for my father... he died long before I ever saw the light. The forest played a crucial role in ensuring my survival. The roots that brought berries to the surface during my time of hunger were truly remarkable. The owls soared gracefully in the sky, keeping a watchful eye as they circled above whenever they sensed that danger was app
Bella's POV It didn't take long for me to realize that being the Darkqueen was more than just a fancy title or a dark, magical crown. It was a job, a serious one. It came with people watching my every move, quiet expectations, and a type of power that could easily become a trap if I wasn't careful.The morning after my initiation, I was summoned. I wasn't given the chance to rest or to get used to the crown on my head. Marlik was standing by the wide windows in the tall council tower. He was looking out over the land like it was his private kingdom. And it was because who dares drag it. He didn't turn around when I walked in."You'll start with the southern corridor," he said. His voice was calm but serious. "The people there are growing restless. I want peace restored. Take the commanders with you. Use fear or kindness. I don't care how. I want them to be aware of the source of their missing goods. Let them know they go by my way or perish."I didn't ask questions. I only nodded and
Aunt Merle The cup is warm in my hands, though my fingers have started to shake a little. From remembering too much and too fast. I promised myself not to recollect those sad days again. But the moment Talia mentions it, that old steady part of me takes over again. The part that always knew when to hold on and when to speak. I set the cup down gently on the side table and turned to her face. She sits quietly across from me, her eyes narrowed enough to show she's trying to piece together things faster than I'm revealing them. And maybe she is. She's always been quick. Elara would have called it "moon-wit," the gift of seeing through what's unspoken. That's part of her awakening anyway. I sigh. "The first thing she made," I begin again, smoothing my palm across my knee, "was what she called the Enchanted Stew of Plenty." Talia's head lifts a little. Her lips part. I see the memory hit her instantly. "Wait," she says slowly, "I-I made that. When I left the Starlight Pack. I was on
Merle's POV The sky is pale when I leave my house, a faint blush of pink stretching above the rooftops like an apology for the cold. I pull my shawl tighter around my shoulders, fingers stiff with age and something else I won't name yet. Something tugging at my heart, low and slow, like a warning hum in the bones. I dreamed of Elara last night. My sister, as she was and as she no longer is-or shouldn't be. She stood at the edge of a field I didn't recognize, surrounded by a stillnes so deep it felt unnatural. She didn't speak with her mouth. Her lips didn't move. But I heard her voice all the same, soft and clear as spring wind. She flowed in the air like she was some kind of liquid and then took someone else's form again before standing and backing me. Free me. It wasn't like a plea when she said it. It was a command. And I-I woke with my throat raw from unshed cries, sweat clinging to the back of my neck. But it wasn't fear I felt. It was certainty. Certain that something w
Talia's POV The ache in my chest has nothing to do with the trials. Not this time. It starts the moment I open my eyes and realize I'm still hearing her voice, not in echoes or memory, but as if she's still speaking to me through something beyond the veil. Free me. It won't stop circling in my head, curling into corners of my mind, I thought were hardened by now. But the softness is still there-the part of me that remembers how her arms felt, how her laugh sounded when I got my first shift wrong and ended up stuck halfway for a full hour. And since then, I couldn't shift again till I suddenly didn't see her again. I had believed my mother when she said we were relocating for good, and because I was being laughed at for not being able to shift. What if our relocation was because of threats or something? I heard of Grandma's demise shortly after our relocation, and I never got the chance to say goodbye properly to her. Could this be what I'm thinking? I sit up, slowly. The palac