Lyanna's POV
The shadow things attacked.
One second I was standing frozen in terror, the next Cassian shoved me behind him and burst into flames. Real fire. His skin glowed red-gold, fire pouring from his hands like water.
"Run!" he yelled.
But I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The shadow things circled us like dogs, their purple eyes burning with hunger. There had to be twenty of them, maybe more. They moved wrong—jerking and twitching, strange.
One lunged at me.
Cassian caught it mid-air, his flaming hand closing around its neck. The thing shrieked and dissolved into smoke. But two more took its place instantly.
"Lyanna, RUN!"
This time my body followed. I grabbed the nearest scroll—the prophecy that had started all of this—and ran toward the Archives' back exit. My legs felt like water. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst.
Behind me, I heard Cassian fighting. Heard him roar, fully dragon now, his fire lighting up the darkness. The heat washed over my back in waves.
I slammed through the escape door and into the night. The summer festival was still going—music and laughter and dancing in the palace garden. All those people had no idea that shadow monsters were striking just fifty feet away.
Should I scream? Get help? But who would believe me? And if I told anyone about the omen, about my soul mark...
A hand grabbed my shoulder.
I spun, ready to fight or run or both.
"Easy, child." My grandma stood there, her silver hair glowing in the moonlight. Her white eyes—blind to regular sight but seeing so much more—stared right through me. "I felt the ghost magic. Where's the prince?"
"Still inside. Fighting." I clutched the scroll to my chest. "Grandmother, what's happening? Why is Seraphine trying to kill me?"
"Because prophecies are powerful things, and you're in her way." Grandmother grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "We need to leave. Now. Before—"
"Before what?" Seraphine's voice came from everywhere and nowhere. "Before I finish what I started?"
She stepped out of the shadows like they'd given birth to her. Lady Seraphine Nightshade, beautiful and terrible, with darkness swirling around her hands like live smoke.
"You can't have him," she said softly. "I don't care what the scripture says. Cassian is mine."
"I don't want him!" The words burst out of me. "I never asked for any of this!"
"Liar." Her violet eyes narrowed. "I've watched you. Watched him. The way he looks at you makes my skin crawl. No one has ever made him look like that."
Was that true? My heart did a stupid little flip despite the danger. "Seraphine." Cassian's voice came from behind her. He stood in the Archives doorway, human again but with golden scales still noticeable on his arms. Blood dripped from a cut on his cheek. "Call off your creatures. This is between us."
"No." Seraphine smiled. "This is about removing barriers. She's marked by the omen. She has a soul bond. She'll ruin everything I've worked for."
"I don't even know what the bond means!" I shouted.
"Then let me explain." Seraphine raised her hands. The shadows around her grew thicker, darker, reaching toward me like hungry fingers. "Soul marks show when the gods choose a perfect match. One person made for another, bound by fate itself. And somehow, impossibly, a mixed nobody has been marked for a dragon prince."
The way she said "hybrid" made it sound like a curse. Maybe it was.
"But here's the interesting part," Seraphine continued. "The forecast mentioned two bonds, didn't it? One of fate, one of choice. I wonder which link you carry, little hybrid. His chosen mate? Or just another choice he'll throw away?"
The words hit like knives. Because she was right. Even if I had a soul mark, even if Cassian couldn't stop thinking about me—he was still marrying her. Still picking duty over whatever this was between us.
"Leave her alone," Cassian growled. His dragon was close to the surface. I could see it in his eyes, in the way his body tensed. "Your fight is with me."
"My fight is with anyone who threatens my future." Seraphine's shadows shot forward like spears.
Everything happened too fast.
Grandmother pushed me aside. The shadow-spear meant for my heart hit her instead. She gasped and crumpled to the ground.
"No!" I dropped beside her, my hands shaking. "Grandmother, no, please—"
"Foolish child," she wheezed. Blood stained her lips. "You should have... run..."
Cassian roared and flung himself at Seraphine. They clashed in an explosion of fire and shadow. The force knocked me backward.
I held my grandmother's head in my lap. She was dying. I could see it in her face, feel it in how cold her skin had become.
"Listen," she whispered, gripping my hand with surprising power. "The mark... not just destiny... also warning..."
"What warning? Grandmother, please, stay with me—"
"Two bonds," she gasped. "Both real. Both dangerous. Choose wrong... everyone dies..."
Her eyes went blank. Her hand went limp.
She was gone.
Rage filled me. Pure, burning anger like I'd never felt before. My skin started to glow—not with fire like Cassian's, but with something else. Something older. The soul mark on my arm burned so bright it hurt to look at.
Power exploded from my body.
The blast threw Seraphine twenty feet backward. It knocked Cassian to his knees. It broke every window in the Archives and sent books flying like scared birds.
When the light faded, I stood in a hole of my own making. My grandmother's body lay unmoved beside me. The prophecy scroll had somehow survived, held in my shaking hand.
Cassian stared at me with wide eyes. "What... what are you?"
I didn't know. Didn't understand what had just happened. But I could still feel the power humming under my skin, wild and barely controlled.
Seraphine got to her feet, bleeding from a dozen cuts. But she was happy.
"Now I understand," she said, laughing. "You're not just marked by destiny. You're not just a mix. You're a Primordial."
The word meant nothing to me.
But from the look on Cassian's face, it meant everything.
"That's impossible," he breathed. "Primordials are dead. They died out thousands of years ago."
"Apparently not." Seraphine's shadows gathered again, thicker and darker than before. "Which means I can't just kill you, little mutt. I need to drain you first. Your power will make me unstoppable."
She raised her hands.
And from behind me, a new voice spoke—male, rough, edged with a strange accent: "I don't think so, shadow witch."
A man stepped out of nowhere, wrapped in storm clouds and sparking lightning. His gray hair whipped around his face. His silver eyes locked onto mine.
The soul mark on my arm flared.
The soul mark on his arm answered.
"Hello, mate," he said softly. "I've been looking everywhere for you."