First-Person — Nyra
The morning burns cold.
Mist curls through the trees, and the sky hangs heavy with the promise of rain. Kael hasn't said a word since I woke. He's been sharpening his blade, every stroke of steel against stone sharp enough to cut the silence in half.
I can still feel the echo of the dream — his touch, the fire, the ache. And worse than that… I can feel the mark beneath my skin pulsing in rhythm with his.
I should say something. I don't.
Neither does he.
We move wordlessly through the forest until we reach the ridge overlooking the valley. That's when I see them.
Riders. Black armor. The insignia of the Order glinting in the faint light — a circle crossed with a line of crimson.
Kael's entire body goes still. "They shouldn't have found us this fast."
My throat tightens. "What do they want?"
His gaze flicks to me. "You."
Before I can breathe, the first arrow whistles through the air.
Kael shoves me down, the shaft burying itself in the tree where my head had been. He moves like smoke — blade drawn, eyes hard.
"Run!"
I don't. Not this time. Power surges through me, wild and burning. The mark lights up, and the ground trembles under my feet.
I raise my hands — and the world ignites.
Flame roars outward in a wave, consuming the undergrowth. The riders reel back, horses screaming. Kael curses, grabbing my wrist. "You'll burn the whole damn mountain!"
"I'm trying to help!"
He drags me close, his hand over my mark. The contact sears — but it steadies me. The fire dims, flickering, bending to his will. To ours.
For a heartbeat, the world narrows to the sound of his breath against my ear and the pounding of our hearts in perfect sync. Then, through the haze, I see movement — not from the riders this time, but from the forest itself.
Something steps out of the smoke.
Not human. Not Shadowed. Worse.
It's tall — impossibly so — its skin cracked and glowing with veins of molten light. Its eyes burn white-hot, and when it speaks, the sound vibrates in my bones.
"Blood Marked," it says. "The pair is awake."
Kael's grip tightens. "Get behind me."
"Like hell," I whisper.
The creature moves faster than sight. Kael's sword meets its strike — steel against living fire — and the impact shatters the ground. I feel the heat wash over me, searing, suffocating. My mark pulses again, desperate, hungry.
And this time, it doesn't wait for permission.
The fire bursts out of me, wrapping around Kael and me both — not burning, but binding.
I see his mark flare in answer. Light threads between us, blood-red and blinding, weaving together in a pulse of raw power that makes the creature stagger.
Kael shouts something — maybe my name, maybe a warning — but I can't hear it over the rush of blood and magic roaring in my veins.
The last thing I see is the creature's face — afraid.
Then, darkness swallows everything.