Two months had passed since Mara sailed away.
On the Isles of Mist, life had flourished, but so had Aarav.
He stood on the edge of the highest cliff, shirtless, the morning sun gleaming off his sweat-slicked back. He wasn't swinging a sword. He was standing perfectly still. His eyes were closed.
In the past, he needed the Blade Sigil to feel the world. Now, he realized the Sigil had been like training wheels. When it vanished, the capability hadn't left; it had fused into his bones.
He breathed in. He could feel the movement of a lizard scurrying three hundred yards away. He could feel the tension in the tectonic plates deep beneath the island.
He opened his eyes. They were darker now, deeper. A chaotic, invisible pressure radiated from him.
A hawk flying overhead suddenly froze in mid-air, terrified by the sheer predatory intent rising from the cliff, and veered away sharply.
"You're scaring the wildlife, Aarav."
Liora's voice came from the tree line. She walked towards him, carrying a basket of fruit. She looked different too—more womanly, her hips slightly fuller, her aura glowing with the contentment of a life well-lived... and nights well-spent.
Aarav turned. The moment his gaze landed on her, the terrifying pressure vanished, replaced by a warm, possessive softness.
"Just stretching," Aarav said, walking to her.
He didn't just walk; he glided. Every movement was efficient, holding a leashed power. Liora felt a shiver run down her spine every time he approached her like this. It was a mix of safety and danger that made her knees weak.
"Mara is back," Liora said, her breath hitching as he wiped a thumb across her lip.
Aarav turned to the horizon. "I know. I felt her sails breaking the wind an hour ago."
He looked out at the sea. Three ships were approaching the lagoon. The Starling Gale was in the lead, but she was flanked by two sleeker, more aggressive-looking schooners.
"She brought friends," Aarav said calmly. "Or followers."
The arrival on the beach was chaotic. Mara had brought back supplies, yes, but she had also brought nearly fifty people—refugees, mercenaries, and craftsmen looking for a new start after the fall of Antima.
Mara jumped off the longboat, grinning. "Did you miss me, your highness?"
"You're late," Aarav said, crossing his arms. He stood on the sand, not welcoming them, but assessing them.
Behind Mara, a group of mercenaries disembarked. Leading them was a woman who commanded attention.
She was tall, with skin like polished obsidian and hair dyed a violent crimson. She wore leather armor that barely contained her muscular frame, and a massive greatsword was strapped to her back. Her eyes were sharp, predatory.
This was Valeria, captain of the mercenary ship Red Serpent.
Valeria looked at the island, unimpressed. Then she looked at Aarav. She saw a handsome young man in simple pants, no armor, no weapon.
"So," Valeria sneered, her voice raspy and arrogant. "This is the 'Breaker' you told us about, Mara? He looks like a gardener."
Her crew laughed. They were hardened killers, used to following strength, not pretty faces.
Mara smirked, stepping aside. "Valeria, meet Aarav. Aarav, meet Valeria. She thinks she's tough."
Valeria stepped forward, invading Aarav's personal space. She towered over him by an inch. "I don't take orders from gardeners. We stay here, we take a third of the land, and we follow my laws. Or... I take the island."
Liora bristled, stepping forward, green magic sparking in her fingers. "You dare—"
Aarav raised a hand, stopping Liora. He didn't look angry. He looked... bored.
He slowly turned his gaze to Valeria.
He didn't speak. He just looked.
He focused that new, internal pressure—the Structural Vision combined with his killing intent—directly on her. He looked not at her face, but at her throat. He visualized the fragility of her windpipe. The weakness in her stance. The fear hidden deep in her amygdala.
The Aura descended.
To everyone else, nothing happened. But to Valeria, the world turned dark.
She suddenly felt like a mountain was suspended inches above her head, ready to crush her. The air in her lungs turned to lead. Her instincts—the instincts of a veteran killer—screamed one word: PREDATOR.
Her confident smirk vanished. Her pupils dilated. Sweat broke out instantly on her forehead. Her knees began to shake uncontrollably.
It wasn't magic. It was the crushing weight of a superior being.
"You..." Valeria gasped, stumbling back, her hand instinctively going to her sword but too terrified to draw it. "What... what are you?"
Aarav took one slow step towards her. Valeria flinched as if he had slapped her.
"I am the one who lets you breathe," Aarav said softly. His voice was calm, but it carried such heavy authority that half the mercenaries looked down at their feet, unable to meet his eyes.
He stepped closer, leaning into her ear. Valeria was paralyzed, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The scent of him—sea salt, musk, and danger—filled her senses.
"You can stay," Aarav whispered, his voice vibrating through her body. "But this is not a democracy, Valeria. It's a sanctuary. And in my sanctuary, there is only one law."
He pulled back, his dark eyes boring into hers.
"Mine."
Valeria swallowed hard. The arrogance was stripped away, replaced by a flush of heat that rose from her neck to her cheeks. It was fear, yes. But mixed with it was a sudden, intense biological attraction. A realization that she was standing in front of an Alpha.
"U-Understood," she stammered, her voice dropping an octave.
Aarav smiled—a small, charming smile that didn't reach his eyes—and turned away. The crushing pressure vanished instantly.
"Welcome to the Isles of Mist," he announced to the crowd, his voice carrying effortlessly. "Set up your camps. Mara will show you the boundaries."
He walked away, Liora linking her arm with his, casting a sharp, warning glare back at Valeria.
Valeria stood there, breathless, her legs trembling. She watched Aarav walk up the hill, her eyes glued to the muscles of his back.
"Captain?" one of her men asked nervously. "Are we... taking the island?"
Valeria let out a long, shaky breath, touching her throat where Aarav's gaze had rested. She bit her lip, a hunger waking up in her eyes.
"No," she whispered. "We're staying. I want to see... what else he can do."
Up on the hill, Liora pinched Aarav's arm hard.
"Ouch," Aarav laughed. "What was that for?"
"You enjoyed that," Liora accused, though her eyes were shining with lust. "You scared her half to death, and now she's looking at you like she wants to eat you."
Aarav pulled Liora close, kissing her temple. "Let her look. Everyone looks at the sun, Liora. But only you get to burn in it."
Liora shivered, pressing closer. "Show-off."
"Just establishing the hierarchy," Aarav smirked.
The farming had begun. Not of crops, but of souls.