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Chapter 1: Nadia's Taste For Freedom
Nadia's POV
I always wondered what it felt like to belong to the world outside.
To walk beneath an open sky without calculating the distance to the nearest shadow. To hear the hum of a crowd without my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
All my life, home had been the cold, damp bellies of the cavern walls hidden deep within the mountain peak. My world was defined by the rush of the subterranean river, the slick scales of the fish I caught with my bare hands, and the sharp edge of the hunting knives my grandmother forced me to master. Survival was my routine. Hunting was my reality. And hiding was my law.
"You are a Blackblood, Nadia," my grandmother’s voice echoed in my mind, a ghost that followed me into every dream. "The last true survivor. Your father was slaughtered because of what flows in his veins, and your mother breathed her last breath bringing you into a world that wants you erased. The Blackbloods are extinct to them—and you must stay dead if you want to keep breathing."
Every time she told the story, it sounded like a valid warning. It sounded like protection. But to a girl who had spent eighteen years watching the distant lights of the valley below, it felt like a lifetime sentence. I didn't want to be an ancient target. I didn’t want to be a myth. I just wanted to be normal. I was tired of the mountains. I was tired of being a ghost.
Today was my eighteenth birthday. And today was supposed to be the day everything changed. Months ago, after endless begging, my grandmother had finally cracked. She had promised that in my eighteenth year, she would take me down into the town below for the very first time.
I paced near the mouth of the cave, my heart pounding in my chest. "Guess who’s ready!" I called out, turning to face my grandmother as she stepped out from the inner chamber. "Grandma, get dressed! You know what today is. I’ve waited my whole life for this."
I expected her to smile, or at least shake her head at my excitement. Instead, a sudden, heavy shadow washed across her weathered face. The disappointment in her dark eyes hit me like a physical blow.
"We aren't going, Nadia," she said softly.
The air left my lungs. "What? No. You promised—"
"There is trouble in the territory," she interrupted, her tone sharp, leaving no room for argument. "A rogue sneaked into the inner district this morning, attempting to assassinate the Alpha. The entire town is under lockdown. Guards are searching every corner, checking every face. A single wrong move, a single misplaced step, and you will be noticed. I am sorry, my child, but today is not the day."
The moment those words echoed through my ears, the world seemed to tilt. Eighteen years of waiting, of quiet obedience, vanished into a sudden, suffocating wave of rage and heartbreak.
"Nadia—"
I didn't let her finish. I turned on my heel and bolted out of the cave entrance, ignoring her desperate calls as they bounced off the canyon walls.
"Nadia! Where are you going? Nadia!"
I didn't stop running until the wind stung my eyes and my lungs burned. But I wasn't running just to hide in the crags. I was running toward the secret spot I had kept hidden from my grandmother for over a year.
Down at the rocky base of the mountain perimeter sat a secluded, overgrown clearing—the boundary where the wild forest met the edges of the town. And waiting there near the wooden fencing was Mara.
Mara was a low-ranking weaver from the outer village. She was nineteen, talkative, and completely oblivious to the fact that I was a forbidden pureblood. To her, I was just Nadia—a quiet, orphaned mountain girl who traded rare river herbs for her bright woven scarves. She was the only person in the world who treated me like I belonged.
"You're late!" Mara called out as I burst through the thick brush, her face lighting up with a wide, freckled smile. "I was starting to think you got swallowed by a mountain bear."
"Grandma had a mood," I gasped out, forcing a bitter smile as I leaned against a trunk, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
"Well, forget your grandma for an hour," Mara laughed, tossing a small bag of sweet spiced bread toward me. "Happy eighteenth, mountain girl. Let's get away from this border fence for once. Everyone in the lower square is distracted anyway."
For the next two hours, the disappointment melted away. Sneaking along the vibrant outer stalls with Mara felt like tasting air for the first time. We laughed, sharing stolen bread behind the tall wooden supply carts, listening to the distant, lively chatter of the town. For two glorious hours, I wasn't the last Blackblood. I was just a girl hanging out with her friend.
Then, the alarm horns shrieked through the valley.
The lockdown.
Panic rippled through the outer market instantly. People began shoving past one another, running to clear the paths as heavy footsteps echoed down the cobblestone road. Pack guards were sweeping the district.
"Move! Clear the way!" a harsh voice bellowed.
In the sudden surge of the frantic crowd, a heavy-set merchant backed up blindly, the sharp, iron-bound corner of a wooden crate swinging wildly through the air.
Clang.
The iron edge caught the side of my forehead. The impact snapped my head back, a sharp, blinding ring filling my ears.
"Nadia!" Mara gasped, grabbing my arm to steady me. "Are you okay? Hey—you're bleeding!"
I reached up, my fingers brushing against my hairline where the skin had split. When I pulled my hand away, dark crimson coated my skin.
A sudden, terrifying stillness settled over my chest.
Blackblood blood wasn't like standard wolf blood. It carried an undeniable, iridescent sheen under the sunlight—a rare, dark pitch that smelled sharply of ancient magic and deep earth.
"What... what is that?" a voice rasped nearby.
I froze. A few paces away, a tall pack guard had stopped mid-stride. His nostrils flared, his eyes widening in sheer shock as his gaze locked onto the dark, shimmering bead of blood trickling down my cheek. He smelled it before he even recognized what it was.
"Hold on," the guard growled, his hand immediately flying to the horn at his belt. "You don't move!"
Horror seized every nerve in my body. My grandmother's warnings crashed back into my mind with terrifying clarity. A single move might get people noticed.
"Nadia?" Mara asked, her voice laced with complete confusion as she looked between the advancing guard and me. "Nadia, what's happening? Who is he
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
I yanked my arm out of Mara's grip, shoved past two stunned onlookers, and bolted directly into the shadow of the alleyways.
"Nadia! Wait! Where are you going?!" Mara’s confused shouts echoed behind me, quickly drowned out by the harsh, booming sound of a guard's horn tearing through the afternoon sky.
"INTRUDER! A BLACKBLOOD IN THE LOWER DISTRICT! SEAL THE GATES!"
My heart hammered against my ribs, pure terror driving my feet as I sprinted back toward the mountains.
The dream was over. The secret was out. And the hunt had officially begun.
Chapter 49 - The Shadow in the RaftersNadia's POV Lyra was sound asleep on his low wooden bunk in the corner of the room, his large frame covered by a rough woollen blanket. His breathing was deep and slow.I was unable to sleep.Using the faint light given off by the short tallow candle, I sat at the small pine table by the single shuttered window to cut up the dried stalks of mountain silver leaf using my stiff fingers. I needed to prepare doses for the fevered children living in the slums below.A soft feeling of calmness filled my chest as I felt Lyra’s bond with me. It pulsed to the rhythm of his breathing. And for the first time in days, there was no wind in the air.The candle flickered.There was no wind coming from the window. The wooden shutters were bolted tight. But there was a slight change in air pressure in the room as it gently dropped from the open rafters.Before I had time to turn my head, I felt a gloved hand cover my mouth from behind and pull my head back onto
Chapter 48: The Ash and the SoilNadia's POV My hands were stained dark brown. Not by ink or blood, but by the crushed paste of the dried elder bark and wild willow roots I had been making salves with for the last two hours. My fingers were stiff and sore from the damp cold air.On the other side of the small fire, Lyra sat against the rough granite wall.He hadn’t taken his dark leather brigandine off but had loosened his sword belt. His broadsword rested across his knees. In his grip was a small whetting stone as he slowly dragged it along the length of his blade.The repetitive noise was calm and steady, but when I looked into his mind through the mate bond, I could feel the storm raging inside of him. The golden glow that normally shimmered between us was jagged and dark. He had a dense, simmering rage bubbling within him since crossing the Southern border post."You’ll see that blade right down to a needle if you keep that up," I sighed, placing my clay pot onto a flat stone.T
Chapter 47: The RoadNadia POV The rugged Iron-Spire granite cliffs had now turned into rolling, sun-drenched hills. Olive trees and tall fields of golden grass were now in abundance.We had few supplies. Just Valerius, Lyra, and six of our most trusted border trackers. We wore simple Linen travel cloaks, colourless so we wouldn’t draw attention from the southern patrols."We reach Sun-Gorge territory by the end of today," Valerius said as he pulled up alongside me on his horse. He adjusted the large brim of his leather hat. "Lord Cassian of Oakhaven has sent his personal guards to patrol the main road. They are stopping any commercial transport from heading north, as they claim there are plenty of border bandits."Bandits? I muttered under my breath as I tugged my hood further down over my hair."Smart move," Lyra grunted from my left. He had sat straight in his saddle. His eyes were continuously scanning the treeline with the intensity of an Alpha. "He’s not going to openly rebel
Chapter 46: The Salt in the HarvestNadia's POVI stood on the stone inspection platform, holding a handful of wheat that felt light, hollow, and coated in a thin layer of grey dust. Next to me, Master Garet—the Citadel’s chief quartermaster—was wringing his hands so tightly his knuckles were white."It’s not just this granary, Lady Nadia," Garet stammered, his voice echoing nervously against the high brick arches. "The southern supply wagons from the Sun-Gorge have stopped coming altogether. Three merchant caravans turned back at the border river yesterday. The southern lords aren't paying their royal grain taxes, and they've closed the shipping ports at Oakhaven."I let the ruined wheat fall back into the barrel, dusting my hands on my apron. My chest felt tight, not from fear, but from the sudden, heavy realisation of what this meant. Corinna wasn't just a tyrant; she was a business partner to the wealthiest merchant families in the south. Stripping her of her rank and dissolving
Chapter 45: Beyond WallsNadia's POVThe cool night air rustled in our ears as we stood atop Silver-Pike Overlook.Our lives had revolved around state business for the last three weeks, negotiating tax charters, managing supply lines to settle the northern settlements and overseeing the trials of Corinna’s remaining conspirators. But tonight, Lyra had taken us two extra hours past our usual stopping point at the outer guard posts to stand among the pine-covered ridges and watch the lights of our city below look like scattered specks of fallen stars.The little campfire crackled as we sat with a small fire creating warm orange hues across the smooth rocks. Lyra placed the iron kettle over the fire. It simmered merrily with a mild chamomile, lavender, and winter-root concoction. Surely just to keep us warm."No books, no ward lords and no pleas for lands from the royalty." He whispered as he moved behind me. He plopped down onto the thick Bear furs and pulled me into his chest.I sigh
Chapter 44: The Roots of HealingNadia's P.O.VThe shelves of cedar lined the room, replacing the previous High Secretariat ledgers and false death certificates with dozens of shiny shelves. Silver root powder, moonflower petal tinctures and bark concentrates were stored inside glass jars. Each jar was clearly marked with Citadel symbols and old Blackblood runes.This was the Central Apothecary of the Citadel. The heart of the new network connecting the four border outposts."The western valley shipment has come in, my lady!" little Kael announced, climbing up the stone steps, his cheeks flushed pink. The ten-year-old pureblood had been rescued from the quarry chains at the Iron-Spire three weeks ago. He wore a clean grey wool tunic with a silver leaf brooch pinned to his lapel. His arms were full of wooden crates, filled with fresh, dewy leaves. "The scouts from master Valerius found three bunches of blue thistle before the morning frost got to them."Kael grinned, and I smiled back







