The tunnel leading out of the ancient catacombs twisted sharply upward, carved with runes so old their meanings had been lost to time. Elara's breathing echoed softly against the stone as Lucien guided her carefully over uneven steps.
The bond pulsed gently between them—warm, grounding, protective.
Different now.
Stronger.
But beneath that warmth sat something cold and heavy:
Fear.
Elara tightened her grip on Lucien's hand. "Do you feel it too?"
"Yes," Lucien whispered. "Something is waiting."
Elias hurried ahead, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We're almost at the exit. Once we reach the surface, we can hide in the forest before the Elders spread out."
The Ghostborn walked silently behind them, silver eyes half-lidded as if he were listening to voices only he could hear.
Elara finally asked, "Why are you still helping us?"
The Ghostborn answered without turning around.
"Because your existence entertains me."
Lucien glared at him. "That better not be the only reason."
The Ghostborn smirked. "And because the Devourer rising amuses me even more."
Elara shivered. "It won't rise."
The Ghostborn looked over his shoulder.
"You say that now."
Lucien stepped closer to her, jaw tense. "Ignore him. His kind thrives on fear."
The Ghostborn bowed mockingly. "Fear is honest."
Before Lucien could respond, Elias cried out, "There! The exit!"
A faint circle of pale light appeared ahead—an opening in the stone ceiling where daylight leaked through. The air grew fresher, warmer.
Relief washed over Elara.
Lucien exhaled softly. "We made it."
But the Ghostborn's expression sharpened.
"No. Something is wrong."
Elias froze mid-step. "I don't sense anything."
"That is exactly the problem."
The Ghostborn's voice dropped.
"Too quiet."
Lucien pulled Elara back behind him. "Stay close."
They approached the circular opening cautiously.
A ladder carved into the stone wall led up to a wooden hatch. Elias climbed first, pushing the hatch open and peeking through.
He turned back with a shaky smile.
"We're safe. It's empty. Hurry."
Lucien helped Elara up first. She climbed with trembling arms, pushing the hatch fully open and pulling herself onto the moss-covered ground above.
Sunlight hit her skin.
For the first time since the Shadow Kiss, she felt warmth—not burning, not overwhelming… gentle.
Lucien emerged behind her, kneeling as he caught his breath. Elias climbed out next.
The Ghostborn lifted his head toward the sky and sniffed the air before stepping onto the surface.
Elara inhaled deeply. Trees surrounded them—a dense forest just beyond the Sanctuary walls. The morning light was soft, filtered through leaves still wet with dew.
"We really escaped," Elara whispered.
Lucien touched her hand gently. "For now."
Elias nodded. "We need to keep moving. The Elders will search the forest soon."
But before they could take a single step—
A cold voice echoed from above.
"Going somewhere, little Awakener?"
Elara's blood ran cold.
A shadow dropped from the trees, landing silently on the moss-covered earth.
Elder Marcellus.
Lucien snarled instantly, pulling Elara behind him.
"You."
His voice dripped with centuries of hatred.
Elara's heart pounded. "Marcellus—how did you find us?"
Marcellus smiled thinly. "Did you forget who trained the Shade Knights before they fell? Their armor speaks to me. And when one was destroyed…"
His smile vanished.
"…I simply followed the echo."
Elias stepped forward, horrified. "You tracked the Knight's destruction? That's forbidden magic!"
Marcellus's eyes flashed. "Everything is forbidden when the Elders fear power. But I do not fear power."
He turned his gaze to Elara, his expression unreadable.
"I fear you."
Elara swallowed. "I didn't choose this power."
"But you embraced it," he said coldly. "You bonded with a creature of shadow. You awakened forces that should have stayed buried. You destroyed a Shade Knight."
He took a slow step toward her.
"You are no longer a healer, child. You are a harbinger."
Lucien moved in front of her, shadows curling protectively at his feet. "Take one more step toward her, and you'll regret it."
Marcellus didn't stop.
His eyes fixed on Lucien.
"And you. The Shadowborne heir."
Lucien's jaw clenched.
"So the rumors were true," Marcellus said. "Your father's power lives in you. How fitting that the Awakener bound herself to the last of a cursed line."
Elara's fists tightened. "Lucien is not his father."
Marcellus ignored her. "I came alone to offer one chance of mercy."
Lucien's eyes narrowed dangerously. "There is no mercy in you."
Marcellus raised a hand.
And the ground glowed beneath Elara's feet.
A trap sigil.
Lucien reacted instantly—shoving her out of the circle as it exploded in a burst of blinding white light.
Elara hit the ground hard, dazed.
Lucien collapsed to his knees.
"Lucien!" she cried.
His shadows flickered violently, disrupted by the sigil that pulsed beneath him.
Marcellus lifted his hand higher, eyes sharp.
"You are too dangerous together. The bond ends now."
Elara lunged toward Lucien—but a barrier snapped into place, blocking her path. She slammed into it hard.
"No—NO! Stop!"
Lucien groaned, pain tearing through him.
The Ghostborn watched with mild interest. "Oh dear. He's using an Unbinding spell. Messy stuff."
Elias grabbed Marcellus's arm. "You'll kill them!"
Marcellus shoved him aside effortlessly.
"It is better to kill two than doom all realms."
Elara pounded on the barrier, panic tearing through her chest.
"Lucien! Lucien—look at me!"
He lifted his head slowly.
Their eyes locked.
Pain surged through the bond.
So did fear.
So did something deeper—
A refusal to break.
"Elara…" he breathed.
His voice fractured.
"I won't let him sever us."
Marcellus raised both hands now, channeling more power.
The sigil beneath Lucien blazed brighter.
"No—Lucien, don't fight it!" Elara cried. "You'll burn yourself out!"
His voice was a strained whisper. "I won't let him take you from me."
"Please," she begged. "Lucien—please—"
The sigil roared to life.
Lucien screamed—
and the bond screamed with him.
Elara fell to her knees, clutching her heart.
"No! STOP!"
Marcellus pushed more power into the spell.
"I end this now!"
But before the spell could reach its peak—
A hand caught Marcellus's wrist.
The Ghostborn.
He leaned in, voice soft.
"No."
Marcellus's eyes widened. "You—"
The Ghostborn twisted his wrist sharply.
A snap echoed through the clearing.
Marcellus cried out, dropping to one knee, the spell collapsing instantly.
Lucien collapsed forward, gasping for air.
The barrier around Elara shattered.
She ran to him, grabbing his shoulders.
"Lucien—Lucien, breathe. Please, breathe!"
His trembling eased slowly as their bond stabilized.
Marcellus staggered back, clutching his wrist in disbelief.
"You dare interfere—?"
The Ghostborn stepped between him and the pair, voice cold as winter steel.
"They are not for you to break."
Marcellus snarled. "You would protect that abomination of a bond?"
"No," the Ghostborn said.
"I will protect the prophecy."
Marcellus froze.
"The prophecy…" he whispered. "The one that speaks of—"
The Ghostborn cut him off.
"Go back to your Elders, Marcellus. Tell them the Awakener lives. Tell them the Shadowborne King breathes. And tell them I am watching."
Marcellus's face twisted with fury—but he retreated slowly, disappearing into the forest shadows.
Silence fell.
Lucien trembled in Elara's arms.
"Are you hurt?" she whispered.
He met her gaze—pale, shaken, but alive.
"He almost severed us."
She pulled him close.
"But he didn't."
Lucien closed his eyes, forehead resting against hers.
"No," he whispered.
"Because nothing will."