ZARIAH POV
Shadows exploded around me like living nightmares.
They moved like snakes, like knives, like death itself given form. I watched them slice through the Genesis soldiers before they could even scream. Blood sprayed. Bodies dropped.
And the man holding my hand didn't even blink.
"How many?" he asked calmly, like he was discussing the weather instead of standing in a room full of corpses.
A voice crackled in his ear—some kind of communication device. "Twelve more coming up the stairs. You need to move. Now."
The man—Kael, he'd said his name was—looked down at me. His mercury-silver eyes glowed brighter, like twin moons.
"Can you walk?"
I tried to stand. My legs folded like paper.
"That's a no." He swept me up in his arms without asking permission.
I should have protested. Should have said something about being fine, about not needing help. But his arms were solid and steady, and I was so, so tired of being alone.
Even if he terrified me.
"Your shadows," I whispered as he started moving. "They're not touching me."
"They can't." His jaw tightened. "You're immune to death magic. My system confirmed it."
"Is that bad?"
"I don't know yet."
We burst into the hallway. More soldiers ahead. Kael's shadows shot forward like spears, punching through body armor like it was tissue paper.
I buried my face in his shoulder. I'd seen enough death.
"Don't look," he said quietly. "Just hold on."
So I did.
We moved through the building fast—faster than should be possible. The shadows carried us somehow, lifting us through broken windows and shattered doorways. Every time soldiers appeared, the darkness swallowed them.
Kael wasn't just powerful. He was unstoppable.
And I was the fragile thing he'd decided to protect.
We emerged into daylight that hurt my eyes. A man waited by a black truck, rifle in hand. Tall. Dangerous-looking. His dark eyes narrowed when he saw me.
"That's the anomaly?" He didn't sound impressed.
"This is Zariah." Kael set me carefully in the truck's back seat. "She can cure the infection."
The man—Lysander, I guessed from the earlier conversation—stared at me. "Cure it? As in reverse it completely?"
I nodded weakly, showing him my arms. The black veins pulsed under my skin.
"Each cure costs her life force," Kael explained. "She's already cured three. That's why she looks half-dead."
"Three-quarters dead," I corrected. My voice sounded hollow. "And the math isn't great. I can probably cure about sixteen before..."
"Before it kills you." Lysander finished. His expression was unreadable. "So you're a limited resource."
The words stung. But they weren't wrong.
"She's more than that," Kael said sharply. "She's the only cure. The only hope."
"Hope." I laughed bitterly. "Two weeks ago I was engaged. Had a job. Had a life. Now I'm 'hope.'"
Kael climbed into the seat beside me. "What happened two weeks ago?"
The question cracked something inside me. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was dehydration. Maybe it was because he'd asked like he actually cared.
"My fiancé pushed me into a horde of zombies," I said flatly. "To save my stepsister. The woman he was sleeping with. He locked the door and left me to die."
Silence filled the truck.
"His name?" Kael's voice had gone cold. Deadly.
"Thorne Beckett. Works—worked—for Genesis." I closed my eyes. "Why does it matter?"
"Because if he's still alive, I'll kill him for you."
I should have told him not to. Should have said revenge was pointless in the apocalypse.
Instead I said: "Get in line."
Lysander started the truck. "Where to?"
"The warehouse. She needs food, water, rest." Kael looked at me. "And we need to figure out what she really is."
"I'm nobody," I whispered. "Just a failed scientist with a broken system."
"Your system is SSS-rank. The highest possible. Same as mine." His silver eyes held mine. "You're not nobody. You're dangerous."
"I can barely stand."
"Now. But once you're stronger?" His shadows coiled around his arms like armor. "You'll be the most valuable person in this world. Which means everyone will want to own you. Genesis. Other awakeners. Survivor settlements."
The weight of his words pressed down on me. "So what, you're claiming me first?"
"I'm offering protection." His voice was firm. "You heal people. I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Simple transaction."
"Nothing's simple anymore."
"No," he agreed. "But it's honest. I won't pretend to be noble. You're useful, so I'm keeping you alive. In return, you cure people I choose. People who can pay."
"Pay?" Anger flared in my chest. "People are dying and you want to charge them?"
"People are always dying. Resources are limited. If you cure everyone who asks, you'll be dead in a week." His expression was hard. "I'm keeping you alive whether you like it or not."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him he couldn't control me.
But he was right. I couldn't survive alone. Couldn't protect myself. Couldn't even walk without collapsing.
I was valuable. But I was also helpless.
And Kael Ashenstorm was the only person who'd bothered to save me.
"Fine," I said quietly. "But I get to choose some of the people I heal. The kids. The desperate ones. I'm not just healing rich people who can pay."
Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Or respect.
"Deal." He held out his hand.
I shook it. His skin was ice-cold, but his grip was gentle.
Like I mattered.
Like I was more than just a tool.
The truck bumped over broken roads. I leaned against the window, watching the destroyed city pass by. Burned buildings. Abandoned cars. Bodies everywhere.
This was the world now. Death and survival. Nothing else.
"Kael," Lysander said suddenly. "We've got a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"The kind with radio broadcasts." He turned up the volume.
A voice crackled through: "—leader of Haven City calls all survivors to join our safe settlement. We offer protection, food, and security. Under the leadership of Thorne Beckett, we're rebuilding civilization—"
My blood turned to ice.
Thorne. Alive. Leading a settlement.
"—special priority given to awakeners with rare abilities. Join us and help build a better future—"
Kael's shadows exploded through the truck, cracking the windows.
"He's alive." His voice was deadly calm. "The man who tried to kill you is alive and calling himself a leader."
I stared at the radio, numb. Thorne had pushed me to my death. Left me to become a monster. And now he was a hero? A savior?
"There's more," Lysander said grimly. "Haven City has been kidnapping awakeners. Taking them by force if they won't join willingly. If they hear about Zariah—"
"They won't." Kael's eyes glowed brighter. "No one knows about her except us. And it's staying that way."
"For how long? Word spreads. Rumors grow. Eventually—"
"Eventually, Thorne Beckett will learn that the woman he murdered is alive." Kael looked at me. "And he'll come for you."
My hands clenched into fists. The black veins on my arms pulsed.
"Let him come," I said softly. "I have a necromancer now."
Kael's smile was sharp and cold. "Yes. You do."
The truck rounded a corner.
And there, spray-painted across a building in huge letters:
HAVEN CITY SEEKS THE SILVER HEALER. REWARD: 10,000 CREDITS. TURN IN INFORMATION TO SECTOR 7.
Silver Healer.
They were already looking for me.
And they'd given me a name.