CHAPTER 7: THE BLIND PROPHET'S CUT

Alpha Draevor doesn’t sit on a throne when he wants to make a point. He stands, forcing everyone in the room to look up at him, and it makes me feel smaller than I already am.

The throne room is empty except for him, his two guards, and me. This isn’t an official Law meeting. This is a message meant only for me.

“You’re behind schedule,” Draevor says.

It’s Day 3. Twenty-seven days left. I bled Rook on Day 1. I bled Silas on Day 2 and saw his mother rip his heart out. I know exactly where I stand.

“Am I?” I keep my voice flat. Unranked hybrids don’t get to sound scared.

Draevor steps off the dais. He sold me to four Alpha Kings for land and title, and I know he’d sell my sister for less. “The Law requires bonding. One King per day of the grace period. You’ve bled two. There are four Kings.”

“Day 3 belongs to Theo. I’m not late.”

“You’re not moving fast enough.” He stops too close, smelling of steel and wolf. “The priests are watching. They want to see the Luna who killed the Necro-wolf actually bleed someone who stays dead.”

“I killed Rook.”

“And he got back up.” Draevor’s mouth twists. “That’s not killing. That’s theater. The Law demands real choices.”

He snaps his fingers. The side door opens.

My sister walks in. Seven years old, braids and a missing front tooth, wearing a white Claiming dress that stops my heart.

“Mira,” I whisper.

She beams at me. “Nyx! They said I could see you. They said you’re a Luna now.”

Draevor’s hand lands on her shoulder, possessive. “She’s of age for pre-Claiming rites. Old enough to start training. Old enough to understand duty.”

“Mira is a child,” I say, and I hate that my voice shakes. “She’s not eligible for Claiming for eleven more years.”

“Laws change.” His thumb strokes her shoulder and she leans into it, trusting him. “If you fail to choose a consort in thirty days, the Fifth Law has a contingency. Unbonded sisters can substitute. All four Kings, one night, to preserve the bloodlines.”

The room tilts.

“You can’t,” I say. “The priests wouldn’t—”

“The priests wrote the contingency. I suggested it. It motivates girls like you.”

Mira tugs his sleeve. “Is Nyx coming home soon?”

“Soon,” Draevor lies, then looks at me. “That’s up to her, isn’t it, Luna?”

I want to kill him. I can’t. Not yet. Blood isn’t lethal until Day 8.

“Get her out,” I say.

Draevor nods to the guard. “Take her back. Tell the priestesses to continue her lessons.”

“Lessons in what?”

“How to please Kings. Just in case.”

The guard leads Mira away. She waves over her shoulder. “Bye, Nyx! Be a good Luna!”

The door shuts. Draevor turns to me. “Bond Theo today. Bond Kain tomorrow. Or on Day 8, your sister starts her rotation.”

He walks out. I’m not a guest here. I’m property.

Theo’s chamber is at the top of the north tower. No guards, no doors, no light. He doesn’t need any of it.

He sits in the center of the floor, legs crossed, hands on his knees. His eyes are sewn shut with black thread.

“You’re late,” he says. His voice is soft. Young. Tired.

“It’s Day 3. I’m on schedule.”

“You’re late to me. I’ve been waiting since you were born.”

I don’t have time for prophet riddles. “Draevor was here. He brought my sister.”

“I know. I saw it. I see all of it.”

“Did you see me killing him?”

A small smile. “Every day. You fail every day, until Day 30.”

My knife is in my hand. “You’ve seen me choose?”

“I’ve seen you try.” He holds out his hand, palm up. “You want to know how I die, Nyx Varrow? You have to bleed me.”

I kneel. His hand is cold. Prophet Kings don’t fight. They see.

“You see the future. All of it?”

“Most of it.” 

“Do I win?”

He’s quiet. “You survive. That’s not the same thing.”

I press the blade to his palm. “Do I save my sister?”

“Bleed me and find out.”

I cut. His blood is red and human. It hits the stone, and the world falls away.

I’m on a battlefield at night. Rain. Theo stands in front of me, eyes still sewn shut, smiling despite the arrow in his chest. He holds me back with one hand on my stomach.

“Run,” he whispers. “They’re coming for you.”

I try to speak, but this is memory. I have no voice.

He coughs blood. “Doesn’t matter who. You live. That’s the only future that matters.”

He drops to his knees, then falls. He doesn’t get back up. He doesn’t reboot. He just dies, and I feel it like someone cut my bond in half.

His voice echoes from everywhere: “Day 16, Nyx. Day 16 is when I go. Remember that.”

I slam back into my body, gasping. Theo’s hand is in my hair.

“You saw it.”

“Day 16,” I choke out. “You die for me.”

“I die for you every day. In every future where you live, I don’t. That’s the trade.”

I shove him off. “That’s not a trade. That’s suicide.”

“It’s prophecy. I’ve seen it a thousand times. Arrow to the heart. I step in front. You live.”

“Why tell me the date?”

“Because knowing doesn’t change it. But it changes you.”

The door opens. Kain walks in.

Ice-white hair. Lab coat over armor. Winter eyes. He looks at Theo’s bleeding hand, then at me, then at my knife.

“Day 3. Theo’s rotation. You’re early for mine.”

“He’s done,” Theo says. “She saw.”

Kain’s gaze assesses me like a specimen. “Did you?”

I stand. “I saw him die.”

“Good. Then you understand stakes.” He looks at Theo. “Day 4 is mine. Prepare her.”

“She’s not a project,” Theo says softly.

“No,” Kain agrees. “She’s the result.”

He leaves.

Theo sighs. “He’s not wrong.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he built you, Nyx. Project Moonbane. That’s what he calls you.”

The floor drops out. Dread, cold and real.

“He built me?”

“He made you to end Kings. To end the Law. To end all of us.”

“Why tell me?”

“Because on Day 16, I die for you. And you deserve to know why.”

I leave him in the dark.

Day 3. Twenty-seven days left. I’ve bled three Kings. Seen two deaths. Rook reboots. Silas was murdered by his mother. Theo will take an arrow for me.

Kain built me to kill them all.

Draevor has my sister in a Claiming dress.

Three Kings must die. One becomes mine.

And I’m the weapon Kain made to break the Law.