The night in Veyrantis was silent, suffocatingly so.
Aresha Lilith Silas lay in her bed, though sleep never came easily. The dragon-and-phoenix mark on her left hand throbbed faintly, a reminder of the venom that never let her forget. She closed her eyes, willing herself into rest—but instead, darkness dragged her back.
Back to the lab.
The white walls gleamed. Sterile. Cold. Reeking of chemicals and betrayal.The sound of chains clinking against her wrists echoed. The voices of men—hungry, laughing, cruel. And above them all, one voice she had once loved.
"Endure it, Aresha. You are my perfect subject."
Her mother's voice. Vivian Silas.Smooth. Detached. Empty.
Aresha's eight-year-old self screamed. Not for help—because she already knew no one was coming. But in defiance. Her silver hair—still black back then—clung to her damp face as flames rose around her. She remembered the searing heat on her hands as she lit the world on fire for the first time.
The fire had swallowed them all.Their screams had been her lullaby.
And yet, even in the dream, her mother's face never burned.Vivian always stood untouched, smiling, as if mocking her child's pain.
Aresha jolted awake, sweat beading her temples. Her chest heaved, her nails biting into her palms hard enough to draw blood.
She sat up, forcing breath into lungs that felt too tight. "It's over," she whispered to the empty room. "It's over."
But her own voice trembled.
And then—soft, unbidden—Saleena's laughter echoed in her mind. A mischievous, bell-like giggle. The sound didn't belong in her nightmares, but it cut through them anyway.
Draven's calm little voice followed: "She saved us, Papa."
Aresha clenched her fists tighter.No.They weren't hers. They couldn't be hers. She had made sure of it—made sure she would never carry children, never bring another soul into the cursed cycle of the Silas bloodline.
Her master had promised her sterilization. He had promised—
Had he lied?
The thought pierced her like a blade. For the first time in years, her control wavered.
She rose from her bed, pulling her cloak tight, and stepped onto the balcony. The night air wrapped around her, cool against the heat of her turmoil. Below, the heart of Veyrantis glimmered like a jewel. A kingdom she owned. A world she had bent to her will.
And yet two small lives…two fragile children…were unraveling it all without even trying.
Aresha lifted her silver gaze to the moon, her voice soft but trembling."Why now?"
At the same hour, across the city, Darius Nyx Vale stirred from his own restless sleep. Not from nightmares—he never allowed himself those—but from memory.
The feel of his mother's hand striking him. The echo of footsteps leaving him behind. The touch he couldn't stand even decades later.
And now…the vision of Aresha Silas standing in the flames with his children in her arms.
His jaw clenched. He had lived his life building walls. Around his empire. Around his children. Around his heart.
But she had stepped through them as if they were smoke.
And he hated it.
His gaze shifted to the adjoining room, where Draven and Saleena slept peacefully, oblivious to the storm brewing.
He whispered to the shadows:"I'll find the truth. And when I do…She won't escape me."
Neither of them knew that fate had already woven their veins together tighter than either could sever.
And soon, the past they both buried would rise from the ashes.