Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Aurora's heart wouldn't settle even after Kaelen vanished into the shadows. His warning echoed inside her, but so did something else—an unshakable pull, as though the stars themselves had bound her to him.
That evening, as the village gathered in the square for the midsummer festival, Aurora tried to lose herself in the music, the laughter, the warmth of lanterns glowing like fireflies. But every face she saw seemed dim compared to the memory of his storm-gray eyes.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" Her childhood friend, Liora, nudged her with a playful grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Aurora forced a smile. "Maybe I have."
The festival drums quickened, and dancers spun in colorful ribbons, but Aurora felt her chest tighten. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading from the center of her palm.
She glanced down—and froze.
On her hand, faint as moonlight, a sigil had appeared: a star-shaped mark glowing softly against her skin.
Her breath caught. No one else seemed to notice, as if the mark was meant only for her. She covered it quickly with her sleeve, fear twisting in her stomach.
That night, she slipped away from the festival, rushing to the meadow where she had first seen him. The air shimmered faintly, and before long, Kaelen emerged from the forest, as if her very thoughts had summoned him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time. His eyes flicked to her sleeve. "Show me."
Aurora hesitated, then revealed her hand. The starlight mark gleamed softly, casting a silver glow between them.
Kaelen's expression darkened, but beneath it was something that almost looked like sorrow.
"So it begins," he whispered.
Aurora's voice shook. "What is happening to me?"
"You carry the Mark of Starlight," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "It binds you to the prophecy. You are not just a healer's daughter, Aurora—you are the one who will tip the balance between shadow and light."
Aurora stepped back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I'm nobody."
Kaelen reached for her hand, his touch cautious but magnetic, as if he feared his own longing. The moment his skin brushed hers, the mark flared brighter, and a warmth spread through Aurora's chest—terrifying, yet intoxicating.
"You are far more than you believe," Kaelen murmured. "And because of that… you are in greater danger than you can imagine."
Aurora's heart pounded, caught between fear and something far more dangerous: desire.
And deep in the forest, unseen, another presence stirred—a shadow that had been waiting for this moment for centuries.