Chapter 2
14 Years Later Hi. My name is Eva, and I am the first female of my kind. I’m not human. Not entirely wolf, either. But together—one heart, one mind—I am something else. Something that has never existed before. I was created by the Moon Goddess herself, not born like the others. She made me to bring balance to a world that had tilted too far into darkness. Until seventeen years ago, our kind—the Executioners—were only men. Fourteen of them in total. A pair stationed on each continent. They were more than feared. They were legends. Shadows with silver eyes and unshakable power. Some believed them invincible. And in a way… they were. Because only the Goddess could destroy them. But even gods can be disappointed. One of them—Joshua—broke sacred law. He killed an innocent man, not out of duty, but out of greed. He wanted the man’s mate. Took her by force and left the body to rot. The people were terrified. They cried out, begged for justice, prayed for a sign. And the Moon Goddess heard them. When she looked into Joshua’s heart, she saw the truth. His soul had darkened beyond redemption. So she summoned all of them and declared: “My children, I see some of you have lost your way. From now on, none of you shall speak falsehoods. Only the truth may pass your lips. I will create for each of you a council—elders blessed by me—so they may guide you when your judgment falters. If you harm or kill someone who is innocent, you will feel their pain as your own. And if that innocent dies, so will you. To help you, I will send visions through dreams. If you see someone or something in a dream, take it as a sign. If you dream nothing, take no action. And to make justice unavoidable, when you touch an accused, their memories will become yours. I will also bind you to a mate—chosen by your elders and raised with the purpose of grounding your spirit. You are not meant to carry this alone. No longer shall you be called Decapitare. You are Executioners now. And your mates shall be known as the Ladies of Peace—orphans trained from childhood to walk beside you in strength and wisdom. As for you, Joshua… You took a life in cold blood. You have become the very thing you were meant to destroy. For that, you must suffer the same fate.” And with that, everything changed. Executioners were no longer feared beasts hiding in legend. They became the hand of justice. Guardians. Warriors with a divine purpose. Feared, yes—but now for a different reason. And me? No one knows why I was born. Not even the elders. But when a council formed for me—a girl barely three years old—people started whispering. I had dream-visions before I could even write my name. And they were always right. Children usually aren’t identified as potential Executioners until age ten. Visions don’t come until at least seventeen. But I was different. I was trained early. Taught to read emotions I didn’t feel, to wield weapons I wasn’t allowed to use yet, and to keep secrets even from myself. By fourteen, I was assigned a temporary mate—Mary. She’s strong and soft-spoken, and she keeps me grounded. She’ll stay with me until I turn eighteen. Then… I’ll receive my fated mate. No one knows who he is. No one knows why I’m even getting one. Executioners don’t get fated mates. Their matches are selected, trained, and approved by the council. Mine will come from the Moon Goddess herself. Which makes people uneasy. And maybe it should. Because I’m Eva. The fifteenth Executioner. The only girl. The outlier. The mistake. The miracle. The ghost on the battlefield. The shadow soon to be revealed.Trixie’s Point of View I’ve seen a lot of bad ideas in my life, but standing in front of a glowing flower in a cursed cave with unresolved relationship drama? This might be the dumbest. It’s pulsing now—bright, then dim, then bright again. Like it’s breathing. Or laughing. I take a step back. “Okay… that’s not normal.” Michael rolls his eyes. “It’s a flower, not a bomb.” The moment he says it—of course—the ground shudders under our feet. “Oh, for the love of—” I don’t even finish the sentence before cracks start splintering up the cave walls like veins made of lightning. The light from the flower flares white hot, blinding, making all of us flinch. When the light fades, I realize we’re not standing in a cave anymore. We’re standing in a room made of mirrors. Everywhere I look—my reflection. Endless, stretched, warped in places like funhouse glass, but worse. They ripple like water when I move. And then… They start to change. The reflections don’t show me anymore. They sh
Parker’s Point of View It’s too quiet. We stand around that glowing flower like guilty suspects at a trial, pretending the air isn’t thick enough to choke on. Michael’s bouncing slightly on his heels, like he wants to get this over with. Sonia’s coiled like a whip ready to strike. Trixie… won’t even look at me. Honestly? I don’t blame her. Finally, Michael breaks the tension the only way he knows how—with unnecessary, loud confidence. “Well. This has been fun. Can we grab the cursed shrub and go before I scream again?” Sonia’s voice cuts through like a thrown knife. “Don’t even start.” Michael throws his arms wide. “What? Did I bring the creepy fog? Did I invite the shadow clones to the party?” “You—” Sonia takes a step toward him, voice dangerously calm, “—kissed Trixie. I saw it. Don’t play dumb with me.” Michael’s jaw tightens. “That wasn’t me. That was black magic.” “And yet, it felt real,” she spits. “I don’t care if it was a hallucination or a projection from some dar
Sonia’s Point of View I don’t like caves. Correction—I hate caves. I hated them before this mess, and I hate them even more now that they come with fog, whispering voices, and enough bones on the floor to qualify as a historical massacre site. The worst part isn’t even the darkness. It’s Parker’s breathing next to me—tight, controlled, like he’s about three seconds from snapping completely. We haven’t spoken much since stepping inside. What’s there to say? We’re both pretending we’re braver than we are, and I’m not in the mood to unpack that emotional suitcase right now. After a few more steps, I stop. “Wait.” Parker’s instantly alert. “What? What is it?” I rummage in my pocket like a raccoon desperate for loose snacks and instead come up with—“Ha.” A flashlight. I forgot I shoved this thing in here before we left the castle. I flick it on. A weak, flickering beam cuts through the thick dark like a tiny sword made of batteries and bad decisions. Parker leans in. “That’s i
Parker’s Point of View I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life. Physically? Sure. Mentally? Absolutely. But this—this is different. This is soul-tired. Like the whole cursed forest is chewing on my bones, one bite at a time, just to see when I’ll finally snap. We don’t stop moving, though. Sonia’s beside me, steady and sharp, eyes darting around like she’s counting enemies before they appear. And I’m right there with her, matching her stride, pretending I’m not falling apart inside. I should be focusing on the fog, the forest, the magic—but all I can think about is what I saw. Trixie. Kissing Michael. Laughing. Choosing him. I know it wasn’t real. I know it was a trick. But it still feels like someone took a crowbar to my ribs and pried my chest open for fun. I can’t even begin to imagine how Sonia’s holding it together. Finally, Sonia breaks the silence. “Parker.” Here we go. She doesn’t look at me, just keeps walking. Focused. Dangerous. “I have a question,” sh
Sonia’s Point of View The first thing I notice is the cold. Then the fog. And then the screaming rage boiling under my ribs when I open my eyes and see Michael across the clearing. Not dead. Not worried. No panic in sight. No—he’s busy. With Trixie. They’re leaning against one of the twisted black trees, tangled together like they don’t even remember the world’s ending. His hand’s in her hair, her hands are on his chest, and I swear to every celestial being that’s ever existed—if I weren’t frozen in shock, I’d rip his arms off and beat him with them. “You absolute bastard,” I breathe. They don’t hear me. Of course they don’t. Too busy playing let’s-ruin-Sonia’s-life in high definition right in front of me. “MICHAEL!” I shout, storming forward, fists clenched, magic sparking under my skin like fireworks ready to blow. Still nothing. Just more kissing. More hands. More betrayal. I’ve murdered people for less. “Oh, you think this is funny?” I snarl. “Wait until I get my hands
Parker’s Point of View When I wake up, I know something’s wrong. Not because of the fog—that’s expected by now. Not because of the cold creeping into my bones, or the way every single hair on the back of my neck is standing up like a warning siren. No. It’s the silence. And the fact that I’m alone. I sit up slowly, dirt clinging to my jacket, head pounding. The clearing is empty. No Trixie. No Michael. No Sonia. Just… me. Trixie? I try through the mindlink. Nothing. I close my eyes and focus harder, reaching out like Theo taught me to. Trix? Answer me. Where are you? Sonia? Anyone? Only static. Panic starts chewing at the edges of my stomach, but I shove it down. Panic doesn’t help. Thinking helps. And right now the only thought I have is find them. And then—I hear her. Trixie. Her voice, clear, sharp, annoyed as ever, floating through the fog like a lifeline. “—would you stop for once—ugh, Michael—” I sprint toward it, stumbling over roots and bones, ignoring the stin