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Chapter twenty seven: blood betrayal
Last Updated:
2025-04-30 23:30:47
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The cursed mate's return One hundred and eighty four: the sky went dark
Finnick's povI’d seen a lot of strange things in my time. Things men weren’t meant to see. But nothing had ever made me feel small, the way that light did, tearing a seam through the heavens like paper.It wasn’t a falling star. Not a god, like Velza whispered.Freya stood like a statue, her face bathed in that cold silver glow. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. She just watched and I didn’t dare speak.Sometimes, silence is all you have left to offer the divine.When we finally moved again—hours later, maybe days in disguise, I found myself watching her more than the path. The way her shoulders bore the weight of something invisible. The way her hands twitched at her sides, like she was always half-ready to cast or cut or run.But she didn’t run.That’s what scares me most about her. Not the glowing, not the way the leyline responds to her like a hound to its master. It’s the stillness. The control. Like she knows she can’t afford to lose it—not even for a second because the moment s
The cursed mate's return One hundred and eighty three: something like a god
Freya's pov We made camp in silence again.This time, not out of exhaustion but caution. The air felt too still, like the world was holding its breath after what we’d done. Even the wind kept its distance, afraid to stir the edges of whatever we’d woken.Velza drew symbols in the dirt with a stick, muttering to herself. Wards, I assumed. Not the kind I’d been taught but older ones. Pre-language, pre-intention. Just shape and sound. She didn’t look up when I sat beside her.“You didn’t ask why I did it,” I said.Velza didn’t pause. “Because I already knew.”“You said there will be others.”“There always are. Once a door remembers it’s a door, it doesn’t want to stay closed.”I watched the symbols take form. Circles within circles. The same pattern I’d seen in the silver gate. The same one from my dreams.“What happens if I stop walking the path?”Velza’s hand stilled.“Then the world keeps walking it without you.”That chilled me more than anything else had. Not because I feared being
The cursed mate's return One hundred and eighty two: first camp
Freya's povVelza didn’t need telling why we broke our camp fast. she was already moving before I could give the order, feet silent against the stone, eyes glowing faintly in the starlight.Finnick cursed under his breath, strapping his gear with rough, practiced speed. Kye kept glancing over the edge of the watchtower, listening for more sounds. The chanting was steady and louder now. Rhythmic in a way that made my bones ache.It wasn’t human or maybe it was once, before something older taught them how to shape sound into keys.I touched the mark at my collarbone. It pulsed under my fingers, echoing the rhythm.“They’re using my frequency,” I said.“Can you stop them?” Finnick asked.“Not from here.”Velza stopped suddenly. “Wait.”She knelt and pressed her palm flat against the stone floor of the tower. Her eyes flickered shut. “There’s a gate being drawn,” she whispered. “Improperly. Too fast. Too thin. It’ll tear.”“Tear what?” Kye asked, voice low.Velza opened her eyes. “The vei
The cursed mate's return Two hundred : girl in ruin
Freya's pov The next village wasn’t on any map.It hadn’t been there the last time we passed through this stretch of land in just empty cliffs and leyline scars then. Now, buildings jutted from the hills like broken teeth, wrapped in vines that shimmered faintly under the morning sun. Finnick frowned as we approached. “This place wasn’t here last week.”“It feels… stitched in,” Kye muttered. “Like it didn’t grow, it was added.”I stepped forward slowly. The moment my foot crossed the old boundary of where the cliff should’ve ended, my skin prickled. Not in warning. In recognition.The leyline flowed here. Strong. Twisted.“This village isn’t built on the leyline,” I murmured. “It was born from it.”They didn’t greet us with fear. That was the first surprise.The second was the girl.She couldn’t have been older than sixteen. Tall, thin, her dark hair coiled in a braid that looked carved from obsidian. She stood in the middle of the square barefoot, as if she’d been waiting.Her eyes
The cursed mate's return One hundred and eighty: the gate should be closed
Fiona's povhe chanting grew louder as we moved through the thinning trees. It wasn't human. Voices wove together in a cadence that trembled with wrongness. My body recognized it before my mind did. The beat matched the leyline, but something about it was inverted.Velza's face had gone pale. “They’re not calling to it,” she said. “They’re feeding off it. Twisting your light.”My stomach turned. “Mine?”She nodded slowly. “You left pieces of yourself behind when you became the Beacon. They’ve collected them.”Collected me.We reached the edge of the ridge, crouched behind jagged stone. Below us, nestled inside a shallow basin, was a broken ruin. Ancient stone. Spiral etchings. Red symbols pulsing beneath the ground. At the center of it all stood a raised platform, and on it—ritualists. Cloaked in black. Holding hands. Eyes glowing faintly with something borrowed.Around them, the air shimmered like a heat mirage. But it was cold. Bone-cold.A gate was opening.Finnick scanned the perim
The cursed mate's return One hundred and seventy nine: echoes of hollow light
Freya's pov Kye held my hand like he was afraid I’d vanish again.Maybe part of me already had.The walk back to the Haven was quiet. Even Finnick, usually full of sharp jabs and louder-than-necessary sighs, said nothing. He walked ahead of us, eyes always scanning the sky. Watching. Listening. He was afraid, even if he wouldn’t admit it.So was I.Since becoming the Beacon, the leyline didn’t whisper anymore. It pulsed. Constant, like a second heartbeat just beneath my skin. It was a rhythm I couldn’t unhear, even when I tried. Like thunder that never reached the ground. Like a voice saying my name in a thousand forgotten tongues.I wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a countdown.Kye looked over at me, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “Do you feel it?”“The sky?” I asked.He nodded.I didn’t answer. Because the truth was, the sky felt hollow. That’s the only word I had for it. Hollow like a ribcage without a heart. Like something massive had leaned in close to peer through the veil
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