Morning light spilled through the tall citadel windows, but it did little to calm the tension in Adeline's chest. Last night's events had left her both shaken and strangely exhilarated. The mark on her wrist still pulsed faintly, a reminder that the shadows were not gone—they were only waiting.
Lucien appeared silently in her chamber, as if he had always been there. His presence filled the space, commanding yet measured.
"You slept?" he asked, though his eyes betrayed concern.
"I… tried," she admitted, tracing the faint glow of the mark. "It won't stop reacting."
"That's normal," he said softly. "The citadel, the mark, even the shadows—they sense your potential. And your awakening is only beginning."
Adeline swallowed. "Potential? I barely survived last night."
Lucien's lips curved in a faint, knowing smile. "Then you survived enough. That is what matters."
Before she could reply, a sharp rap sounded at the door. A messenger, cloaked in black and silver, bowed deeply. "My lords, the council awaits your presence. Urgent matters require your attention."
Lucien's gaze flicked to Adeline. "The Hidden Council convenes rarely. They do not summon lightly."
Her heart thudded. "What could they possibly want with me?"
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Because you are no longer invisible. Because the mark has chosen you. And because what comes next will decide more than your future—it will decide the fate of the citadel itself."
The walk to the council chamber was silent, each step echoing ominously through the grand hallways. The air grew heavier, carrying a sense of anticipation and unspoken power.
When they entered, the chamber was darker than she expected, circular and high-ceilinged, with dozens of hooded figures seated in concentric rings. Eyes glinted from the shadows, and a single voice, deep and resonant, cut through the silence.
"Adeline Moore," the voice intoned. "You have crossed thresholds you do not yet understand. And yet, the mark has awakened. It is time you prove that you are worthy."
Adeline's throat went dry. She glanced at Lucien, who nodded once, firmly. "You are not alone in this," he whispered.
The council's leader, cloaked in a flowing robe embroidered with silver sigils, stepped forward. "The Sovereign Mark does not reveal itself lightly. You have survived the first trial. Now, you must demonstrate the strength to control it… and to face those who would use it against you."
A flicker of the same shadowy energy from before shifted behind one of the figures. Adeline's pulse spiked. The dangers were multiplying.
Lucien's hand brushed hers briefly—a grounding touch. "Trust yourself. Trust what you've begun to awaken."
Adeline took a shaky breath, straightening her shoulders. She was no longer the girl who tiptoed through the citadel, hiding from secrets. She had survived the mark's awakening. She had survived the shadows. And now, with Lucien at her side, she would survive this council.
The chamber fell silent, waiting for her response.
"I am ready," she said, voice steady, carrying both fear and defiance.
And in that moment, the citadel seemed to exhale, as if acknowledging that a new chapter had begun—not only for her, but for all who watched from the shadows.