Chapter 39: The Shadow’s Echo

The palace was quiet, but it was the kind of silence that precedes a landslide.

Back in our bedroom, Killian had finally fallen asleep, his breathing heavy and uneven. I sat by the window, watching the moonlight play across the black mark on his chest. It looked different now—more like a living thing than a brand. It pulsed with a faint, rhythmic violet light, synchronized with Nyx’s breathing in the next room.

Killian’s hand twitched in his sleep. I reached out to hold it, but I recoiled when I felt the heat. His skin was scorching.

"The cost," I whispered, the Keeper’s words echoing in my mind. Every time she strikes, you will feel the blow.

I looked at his arm. Beneath the skin, I could see faint, dark lines—shadow-bruises—forming on his muscle. Nyx had used her power to save her brother, and Killian was literally absorbing the physical trauma of that magic.

Caw.

I snapped my head toward the window.

The hawk with the glowing green eyes was perched on the stone balcony, less than five feet away. It wasn't moving. It didn't even look like a bird anymore; it looked like a statue of emerald and obsidian.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice low but sharp.

The hawk tilted its head. Instead of a bird's screech, a voice crawled out of its beak—a woman's voice, cold and dripping with mock sympathy.

"The mother of the end," the voice hissed. "You hide a sun and a moon, Elena Vance. But the moon is hungry, isn't it? It's eating your King from the inside out."

I stood up, moving to block the hawk’s view of the bed. "Leave this place. If Killian wakes up—"

"If Killian wakes up, he will fall," the voice interrupted. "The Anchor is cracking, Elena. You can't bind a goddess with a wolf's soul forever. She belongs to us. To the Coven of the Pale Moon."

The Coven. My blood turned to ice. They were an ancient cult of witches who believed in the 'Purity of Chaos'. They didn't want to stop the Destroyer; they wanted to use her.

"She belongs to no one," I spat. "She is my daughter."

"For now," the hawk's eyes glowed brighter, the green light spilling onto the floor like poison. "But when his heart finally stops under the weight of her shadow, she will come to us. Or she will burn this kingdom to ash in her grief. Either way, we win."

With a sudden flap of wings, the hawk dissolved into a cloud of green smoke that smelled of sulfur and rot.

I stood trembling on the balcony, the cold night air biting at my skin.

"Elena?"

I turned. Killian was sitting up, his eyes bloodshot, sweat soaked through his sheets. He was clutching his chest, his jaw locked in a grimace of agony.

"I heard... a voice," he rasped, struggling to stand.

"It was nothing," I lied, rushing to his side to support him. "Just the wind. Go back to sleep, Killian."

"Don't lie to me," he growled, though there was no heat in it, only exhaustion. He looked at the window, then at the faint green residue on the stone. "The Coven. They've found her."

He looked down at his hands—hands that were usually steady enough to hold a kingdom, now shaking with tremors of shadow-poison.

"We need more than a library and a blind woman," Killian muttered, pulling me into a desperate embrace. "If they want her, they'll have to walk over my corpse. But I don't know how much longer I can be the wall, Elena."

I held him tight, feeling the frantic beat of his heart against my palm.

"You don't have to be the wall alone," I whispered.

But as I looked out into the dark forest where the green eyes were still watching, I knew the hardest choice was yet to come.

To save the man I loved, I might have to betray the power of the daughter I cherished. Or let them both go.