The Silence That Followed
Zyra couldn't breathe. The vision still clung to her mind, burning behind her eyes. Her own hand, pressing a blade to Kieran's throat.
Her own voice—cold, absolute—condemning him to die.
She staggered back, her pulse roaring in her ears. The temple chamber had fallen into eerie stillness, as if the world itself hesitated, waiting to see what they would do next.
Kieran was still kneeling in the wreckage, his silver eyes locked onto her. He didn't look shocked. He didn't even look afraid.
He looked… resigned.
As if he had always known.
And that made it worse.
Zyra clenched her fists. "That wasn't real."
Kieran's gaze didn't waver. "Wasn't it?"
She swallowed hard. "It doesn't have to be. A vision is just one possibility."
"Or a warning."
Something in his voice sent a chill down her spine. It wasn't anger, nor despair—it was acceptance.
As if he had already decided that his death at her hands was inevitable.
"Stop that," she snapped, stepping closer. "I'm not going to kill you."
A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"You don't believe that any more than I do."
---
The Cracks in Fate
A gust of wind swept through the temple ruins, carrying the scent of scorched stone and ancient magic. The Oracle's fragmented form flickered again, watching them with something that almost resembled pity.
"You should leave this place," it murmured. "Now that the prophecy has begun to unravel, others will come."
Zyra narrowed her eyes. "Others?"
The Oracle's voice softened. "The ones who have been waiting. The ones who will see his awakening as a threat."
Zyra turned to Kieran. The sigils along his arms were still glowing, shifting in unreadable patterns. His power was still unstable.
Whatever had been bound inside him wasn't fully contained anymore.
The Oracle took a slow step back, its form flickering at the edges.
"You have little time," it whispered. "The longer you stay together, the stronger the pull of fate becomes. And when the time comes—"
It hesitated.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper—
"You will have to choose, Zyra."
She clenched her jaw. "Choose what?"
The Oracle faded before it could answer.
And the temple collapsed.
---
Escape Through Fire
The walls crumbled in an instant.
Zyra reacted on instinct, grabbing Kieran and throwing up a barrier of magic as debris rained down around them.
The air was thick with dust and the acrid scent of burning stone. Shadows twisted at the edges of her vision, and beyond the wreckage—
Movement.
She felt it before she saw them.
Figures emerging from the smoke. Too many. Their presence sent a cold shiver down her spine, magic crackling in the air.
Hunters.
Dressed in dark armor, their weapons gleaming with celestial sigils. These weren't ordinary mercenaries.
They had come for Kieran.
---
The First Kill
One of them moved.
Fast.
A blade cut through the air, aimed directly at Kieran's throat.
Zyra didn't think. She reacted.
Her dagger was in her hand before she could stop herself. A single step. A single strike.
The blade buried deep into the hunter's chest.
A breath. A heartbeat.
Then the light faded from his eyes, and he collapsed at her feet.
Silence.
The other hunters froze, their gazes snapping to her.
Zyra's own breath hitched. The dagger in her grip was still warm with blood. Her fingers trembled.
It was the first time she had ever killed for him.
Kieran's voice was barely above a whisper.
"You didn't hesitate."
Zyra tore her gaze from the body, meeting his eyes. "I told you," she murmured. "I'm not going to kill you."
And then—
All hell broke loose.
---
Blood & Oaths
The hunters moved as one, lunging forward in perfect coordination.
Zyra matched them.
Steel met steel, spells ignited the air, and shadows curled around Kieran as he lashed out with raw, unrestrained power.
For the first time, she saw what he truly was.
Not just a prince.
Not just a curse.
Something far more dangerous.
Their enemies didn't stand a chance.
By the time the last hunter fell, the temple ruins were nothing but ashes and blood.
Kieran exhaled slowly, his hands slick with power and something darker. "This won't be the last time they come."
Zyra wiped her blade clean, her pulse still hammering. "I know."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Kieran did something unexpected.
He reached for her.
Not out of desperation. Not out of fear.
But out of trust.
Zyra hesitated, then took his hand.
Something between them shifted.
Something more than fate.
---
The Bond Deepens
As they fled the ruins, Zyra couldn't shake the Oracle's final words.
"You will have to choose, Zyra."
She glanced at Kieran, his silver eyes dark with exhaustion and power.
She already knew what she would choose.
No matter what fate demanded.
No matter what the prophecy said.
She would never let him go.
---