The healers worked in terrified silence.
Ronan didn't move from Evelyn's bedside.Not when they checked her pulse.Not when they whispered about energy depletion.Not when they muttered that humans weren't meant to channel that much magic.
He didn't even look away when one healer said—too softly—
"She shouldn't be alive."
Ronan's growl was so dark the windows rattled.
"Say that again," he warned, "and your tongue is gone."
The healer bowed, trembling.
But nothing, nothing calmed the storm inside him.
He sat there, elbows on his knees, head bowed, one hand locked around Evelyn's limp fingers as if letting go would kill her.
He'd fought wars.He'd killed alphas.He'd stared death in the face without blinking.
But this—This girl unconscious in his bed—
This was the first time Ronan Blackthorn felt powerless.
"Evie…"His voice cracked."If you don't wake up, I swear I'll tear the world apart."
The shadows in the corners of the room shifted.
Just slightly.
He lifted his head.
"Evie?"
Nothing.
Her breathing stayed faint.Her brow relaxed.Her lips pale.
Ronan tightened his grip around her hand, squeezing gently.
"You're strong," he whispered."You fought Ironfang. You faced Bloodmoon. You survived the bond breaking. You survived me."
He leaned forward, forehead almost touching her fingers.
"So don't you dare give up now."
Silence.
A silence that felt too deep.Too heavy.
Then—
The shadows moved again.
But this time, they didn't curl away from her.
They curled toward her.
Slowly.Curiously.Almost protectively.
Ronan's breath froze.
The air thickened—Like the entire room inhaled at once.
The shadows pooled beneath the bed, crawling up the sheets, threading through Evelyn's hair, around her arms, her waist—
Ronan shot to his feet, body half-shifting in alarm.
"NO— don't touch her—!"
But the shadows didn't attack.
They sank into her.
Like water returning to the ocean.
Evelyn's back arched violently.
Her breath tore from her throat.
The healers screamed and backed into the walls.
Ronan lunged forward, grabbing her shoulders—
"EVELYN!"
Her eyes snapped open.
Not brown.Not silver.
Black.Deep, endless black, swirling with smoky rings of violet and white.
The same color as the void that had swallowed the battlefield.
Ronan's heart slammed into his ribs.
"Evie—?"
Her voice came out layered.Two tones.Hers… and something ancient behind it.
"He… found me."
Ronan froze.
"Who found you?"
Her pupils dilated, swallowing what little color remained.
"The one who was whispering in the shadows."A shiver ran through the entire room."He was waiting."
Ronan's pulse roared.
"Who?"
Her hands trembled.The shadows around her lifted her slowly to a sitting position—she didn't move her muscles at all.
Her gaze locked onto Ronan, sharp and frighteningly calm.
"The Shadow Father."
Ronan's blood went cold.
"…That's a myth."
The healers dropped to their knees in terror.
Evelyn shook her head once, slow, deliberate.
"No. He is real."
The shadows tightened around her spine like armor.
"And he woke up because of me."
Ronan felt the weight of those words like a blade pressed to his throat.
"Evie…" he whispered, stepping forward."Did Bloodmoon summon him?"
She blinked—slowly—like adjusting to consciousness again.
"They didn't summon him."A pause.A shiver.A breath like the world shifting."They triggered him."
Ronan's jaw clenched.
"So they knew."
"Yes," she whispered."They knew what I was. Before I did."
Ronan's heart cracked open—fear, fury, grief all tangling together.
He cupped her face gently, palms rough but careful.
"You're safe now. I swear you're safe—"
But Evelyn's hand covered his.
Her touch burned hot with leftover magic, shadows flickering beneath her skin.
"No, Ronan."
Her voice softened.Broke.
"I'm not safe."
Her eyes shimmered, dark and painful.
"I'm dangerous."
Ronan pulled her into his chest, arms locked tight around her.
"I don't care," he whispered fiercely."You're mine. Prophecy or not, power or not—mine."
She shuddered against him, breath catching.
"You don't understand," she whispered."He isn't done."
Ronan stiffened.
"He… who?"
Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, voice trembling—
"The Shadow Father wants you next."
Ronan's blood turned to ice.
And before he could ask anything more—
Every candle in the room blew out at once.
And the shadows rose.