The forest seemed endless, yet the trio guided her through hidden paths, their combined senses cutting through darkness and danger. Every crack of a branch, every flutter of leaves, made Aeloria's pulse spike. She realized her senses were sharpening too—the faint rustle of a bird, the subtle hum of magic in the air, even the whispers of wind—everything felt alive, responding to the Mark burning on her wrist.
"You feel it too, don't you?" the vampire murmured, walking just ahead of her. His voice was soft, but Aeloria shivered at the power behind it.
"Feel what?" she asked, though her stomach already knew.
"The pull of destiny. The whispers of the Bond."
She swallowed hard, realizing she did. There was a constant tug, faint but insistent, like invisible threads reaching into the world. Sometimes it called her forward, sometimes it warned her back. Every step she took, she felt more… connected. Connected to the forest, to the men, and to something far greater she couldn't yet name.
The dragon's wings unfurled briefly to check the path above, catching the moonlight in golden gleams. "They're tracking us," he muttered. "The Silent Order isn't finished. And there are others—worse than them."
Aeloria glanced at him, heart hammering. "Worse?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he shifted closer, his presence like a protective flame. "The ones who seek the Celestial Bond are not all mortal. Some are creatures from the old world—beings older than Veloria, who will stop at nothing to use or destroy you."
Her fingers instinctively grazed the sigils. Heat and light pulsed beneath her skin, a warning and a promise at once. "I don't… I don't know if I can handle this."
"You will," the Beastborn said firmly, walking behind her. His amber eyes met hers. "Because you have no choice. And because you are stronger than you think."
Aeloria's gaze fell to the ground, where the path twisted between moss-covered roots and jagged rocks. Every step forward felt like leaving a part of herself behind—the life she had known, the quiet existence of the valley, the innocence that had been ripped away.
The vampire's voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and commanding. "Remember this: every power you awaken has a cost. Every emotion, every touch, every thought… it will feed your magic. Do not let it control you. You control it."
Aeloria nodded, even though her chest ached with the enormity of it. Control. Survive. Embrace. Three threads she barely understood, yet she felt their weight pressing into her very soul.
The dragon stopped suddenly, nostrils flaring. "They're close," he said, wings rustling. Smoke drifted from his mouth in short bursts. "And this time… they aren't coming for you alone. They're bringing death."
Aeloria's stomach dropped. "Death?"
"Yes," the Beastborn growled, stepping forward. His claws dug into the earth. "Many lives will be lost before you reach the Sanctum. But not ours. Not if I can help it."
The vampire's crimson gaze softened, just a fraction, as he looked at her. "You have no idea what's coming. But you will. Soon enough."
The forest shivered around them. Shadows moved unnaturally, and the faint smell of smoke—something alive and malevolent—wafted through the air.
Aeloria pressed her hands to her chest, the sigils on her wrist pulsing violently. "I can feel them. The others."
The dragon exhaled, a low rumble that vibrated through the trees. "Good. That means your bond is stronger than we thought. And it's responding to you."
Her stomach fluttered with fear and something else—something she didn't want to name. Desire. Power. Responsibility. All tangled into a knot that made her chest tight and her hands tremble.
The Beastborn growled low in her ear. "Keep moving. Do not falter. They are coming."
The vampire's hand brushed against hers—not a touch of romance, not yet—but a steadying presence. "And we will be here. All three of us. Until the end."
Aeloria swallowed hard, feeling the truth of his words. The path ahead was dark. Dangerous. Filled with enemies she couldn't yet imagine. But for the first time, she felt the spark of courage deep within her—a spark that promised she would not falter, no matter what the Shadowed Path demanded of her.
As the trio led her deeper into the gorge, the moonlight glinting off their combined forms, Aeloria realized something terrifying and exhilarating: her life, her destiny, and the very fate of Veloria were now entwined with these three men—and with the ancient powers she was only beginning to understand.
The road to the High Sanctum had begun.And nothing—nothing—would ever be the same.