The moment Lilax struck, Malphas moved like lightning.
His hand flared with shadow as he summoned a barrier—an obsidian shield pulsing with runes. The spear met it mid-air, a crack of energy bursting outward and shaking the crumbling tower stones.
Emberlynn stumbled back from the shockwave, but she didn't run.
Her eyes were locked on Malphas.
The way he moved—controlled chaos. Like a creature born to dance with death. Shadows curled around his arms like sentient flame, his aura darker than night, and yet… he stood between her and Lilax.
"What do you want with her?" Malphas spat, barely dodging the next blow.
Lilax laughed, flipping midair as her spear spun like a silver flame. "You know what I want, darling. We all do. That mark on her shoulder? It's not just a key—it's the beacon. It calls the dark things back."
Emberlynn's hand shot to her shoulder.
The mark.
She had almost forgotten it was there.
Lilax's eyes landed on Emberlynn now, gleaming. "And you, little mortal... do you know what you are?"
Emberlynn's voice trembled. "No. But I will."
Lilax smirked. "That confidence won't last. Not when the truth cuts deeper than any blade."
Before Malphas could strike, she threw down a vial—glass shattering, smoke erupting in a thick swirl of violet mist. When it cleared, she was gone.
But the chill she left lingered like poison in Emberlynn's lungs.
Malphas stood still for a long second. Then he cursed low in a language Emberlynn didn't understand.
She stepped toward him. "She knew about the mark. She called me a beacon."
He didn't meet her gaze. "She's not wrong."
"Tell me what that means," she said firmly.
But he just shook his head. "Not yet."
Frustration flared in her. "Why do you keep saying that?"
"Because," he said, finally looking at her, "once you know, you'll never be the same. And I'm not ready to lose this version of you yet."
Her breath caught.
Something warm sparked in her chest. Fear, yes—but also... something else.
The way he looked at her wasn't cruel or cold.
It was like he was trying to memorize her.
Before the world changed her.
They made camp in silence that night, nestled in the ruins under half-collapsed stone arches. Malphas stood watch, but Emberlynn didn't sleep.
She watched him instead—watched the way he paced, like he was fighting something inside himself.
Not fear.
But guilt.
She rose quietly, walking toward him.
"You can't protect me from everything," she whispered.
"I know," he replied without turning.
"Then let me choose when I'm ready."
He exhaled slowly. "You're brave, Emberlynn. Braver than you should be."
"Maybe," she said, stepping beside him. "Or maybe I've just lost enough already."
Their eyes met.
The night pressed around them, quiet and thick, as the wind whispered secrets through broken stone.
He didn't move away.
Neither did she.
The space between them crackled with unsaid things—unformed truths hanging like stars too far to touch.
But not forever.
She didn't need to understand everything right now.
Just him.
And for now, that was enough.