**Ciara's POV:
The night howled behind her like a beast unleashed.
Branches whipped her face, thorns tore at her legs, and her breath came in ragged bursts as Ciara fled through the cursed forest. The moon hung low above the treetops—blood-red and unblinking—as if it too watched her run.
They were coming.
She had heard them even after the temple walls faded behind her—boots pounding, spells humming, the hiss of a priestess's curse flying past her ear. They would not stop until she was dragged back in chains.
Or burned.
"You're a mob," one of them spat. "A danger to the Order."
I kept running as fast as my legs could run
I did nothing wrong but just that I was moonborn
The Priestess had tried. God, she had shown me the secret passage and forced a silken sachet into my hands.
"This will hide the mark for a little while. But run. Don't stop running, Ciara. Promise me."
Now, the charm was fading. The illusion cracked every time the mark pulsed against my skin, red and angry.
My foot caught on a root. I tumbled forward and hit the forest floor with a grunt. Mud coated her hands. Her head rang. I pushed myself and the world changed.
The air around me stilled.
The wind was silenced.
Even my heartbeat seemed too slow.
I had crossed a line. The trees here were older, their trunks silver-white and slick as bone. No birds called. No insects stirred. Just mist. Endless mist.
And the whispers.
Soft. Ancient. Like breathing on the back of my neck.
I stumbled forward. Each step felt pulled, like something in the earth called me and dragged me deeper. My feet moved on instinct, even as my body screamed to turn back.
Then the forest floor gave way.
I crashed into a hollow below, branches snapping beneath her weight. A sharp jolt spread up her leg, but I didn't cry out. I couldn't. Something was near.
I could hear the guards' voices all around me
"Look for her she can't run that fast"
At this point, I have given up and if they find me, I would just surrender and accept my fate
I looked up and locked eyes with one of the guards
"She is here"
I could all hear their footsteps approaching
I have lost all strength to even retaliate or fight them
I was very dizzy but then I could hear arrows all around and the guards shouting
"Take cover"
Before I could gather the little strength left in me, all the guards were dead.
I was scared and at that moment I began feeling dizzy but I could hear ppl talking around me
"We have seen her sire"
I could see a man but not so clearly and I lost consciousness
"Sire she has lost consciousness"
"Carry her let's go" responded the man in the black hood
The scent of pine smoke and damp earth drifted through the trees when I stirred. My eyes fluttered open to a blur of amber light and movement—leaves dancing above me, a fire crackling close by, and the low rustle of someone nearby.
I wasn't dead.
I blinked hard, trying to sit up, but my body protested with a deep ache. Every bone felt like it had been dragged through stone and shadow. My right palm burned faintly, like a coal left too long in a dying fire.
"You're awake."
The voice came from across the fire, low and steady—familiar, though I'd barely heard it. The warrior from before… Kaelen.
He sat sharpening a blade, the motion fluid and practiced. The firelight flickered against the angles of his face, casting faint shadows across the scar beneath his eye.
"Where am I?" My throat felt like I'd swallowed smoke.
"Away from the people who wanted to burn you alive," he said plainly. "You fainted after we rescued you. You're lucky we rescued you quickly. If not u would have been dead by now"
"Dead?"
I gripped the cloak wrapped around me and glanced down at my palm. The mark was still there—barely visible now, but humming under my skin.
"Why did you help me?" I asked.
He didn't look up. "Because I was told you'd come. And because if I didn't, you'd be dead."
"You were told?" I echoed.
He finally met my eyes, and something unreadable passed through his expression.
"There's someone waiting to meet you. He's been waiting for a long time."
The fire popped between us. Silence fell like a curtain, thick and heavy.
I glanced around. We were still deep in the forest, surrounded by thick trees twisted with age and silence. There were no roads, no stars, only the breathing dark and the faint rustle of wind through leaves.
"We'll keep moving soon," Kaelen said, standing. "They'll search deeper by dawn. I have a safe route through the cliffs, but it'll only work if we stay ahead of the hunters."
I pulled the cloak tighter. "I don't understand any of this."
"You will." He paused. "That mark on your hand—it means you're part of something very old. Something they feared enough to hide."
"And what if I don't want to be part of it?" I whispered.
Kaelen's expression didn't change. "Want has nothing to do with it. The gods chose."
I clenched my fists under the cloak. "The gods are dead."
A flicker of something—grief, or perhaps memory—crossed his face. "Not all of them."
The wind rose, brushing the treetops above. Somewhere in the distance, a howl echoed—sharp and unnatural.
Kaelen's eyes narrowed.
"We move now."
He helped me stand, and though I could barely keep upright, he steadied me with surprising gentleness. I staggered slightly, still dizzy.
"Hold on to me," he said, slipping an arm under mine.
And I did.
Together, we disappeared into the forest's deeper dark—toward something ancient, toward someone waiting.
We moved through the underbrush like whispers, Kaelen guiding me with a quiet precision that felt unnatural—too smooth, too silent. He didn't stumble once, even in the uneven terrain, even with my weight partially leaning on him. I had the sense he could've made the journey blindfolded.
The forest here was colder. Colder and wrong. Trees towered like watching figures, their gnarled limbs arching above us like claws. Fog clung to the ground, low and silver, curling around our legs. It felt like it was following us.
"This place," I murmured, breath fogging. "It isn't normal."
Kaelen didn't answer right away. His gaze scanned the darkness between trees, ever alert.
"This is the cursed edge of Velmora," he finally said. "A borderland between the world of man and what came before it. They don't follow us here easily, but they will try."
"They?" I asked.
He stopped. Just for a moment.
"Your people. My former brothers. The priests. The moon guard. The ones who would see your blood spilled to keep the lie alive."
His words chilled more than the air.
"Why does everyone want me dead?" I asked.
"Because you're the only one who's still alive with the truth stitched into your skin." He nodded at my palm. "You carry something even Lucian lost once."
I didn't ask who Lucian was.
Not yet.
But I knew I'd meet him soon.
And somehow, I already knew—
My life would never be mine again.