The feeling pulled at her.

  ?It wasn’t the heavy thrum from the earth anymore. It was sharper. Cleaner. Like a silver thread winding through the air, hooking into her very soul and tugging her forward.

  ?Before she could think, her feet moved.

  ?She slipped past the manicured hedges, turning two sharp corners. The air grew colder here. Voices drifted toward her—muffled, tense.

  ?"Don’t—If she ever—" She couldn’t catch the words. Only the tone—low, urgent. Dangerous.

  ?"I… I don’t know. I can’t—"

  ?Aelira’s breath hitched as she edged closer, her fingers brushing the cold stone wall. One more step. Then she saw them.

  Lucien. He sat on the edge of an old stone fountain, his head in his hands. Across his knees rested the weapon.

  It was a katana similar to the ones that Zaek always carried around. The sheath was lacquered in pristine, snowy white. The hilt was wrapped in tight white braiding, revealing glimpses of dark rayskin beneath.

  Rather than a weapon of war. It looked like a shard of frozen moonlight.

  Cassian stood at his shoulder, his posture relaxed, hands in his pockets.

  ?"You know what needs to be done," Cassian murmured, soft as silk. "Before she ruins everything."

  ?Her stomach dropped. She? Who…?

  ?But her gaze locked on the sword. The instant her eyes found it—Badum—the pulse slammed through her chest like a living thing. The blade… was it humming? Or was it my imagination?

  ?Before she could blink, Lucien’s head lifted. His eyes were sharp, scanning the hedge. His hand tightened on the hilt.

  ?"I think someone is listening."

  ?Cassian’s lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He turned, slow and deliberate. "Come out." His voice was smooth, almost playful. "No need to hide. We already know."

  ?Aelira froze. Her legs refused to move. Then, trembling, she stepped from behind the hedge. "It’s… me."

  ?Lucien’s gaze flicked to her. For the briefest moment, something like shock cracked his mask—just a flicker, gone as fast as it came.

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  ?"Aelira." Cassian’s tone was velvet now, warm and harmless. Too harmless. "What brings you here?"

  ?"I… I don’t know," she stammered, her hands clenching in her skirt. "I just… felt something. Like… a wave. It was strange, so I… followed it."

  Silence. Thick as storm clouds. The more she spoke, the heavier it grew. Lucien didn’t move—except for his fingers, curling tighter on the katana until his knuckles whitened.

  ?"A wave," Cassian repeated softly. His smile sharpened, almost imperceptibly. "Interesting."

  ?"Did I… do something wrong?" Her voice was small, breaking.

  ?"Wrong?" Cassian chuckled—soft, low. Almost kind. Almost. "No, no. You’re fine." He crouched slightly, meeting her wide eyes with his calm, green ones. "But you can't tell this to anyone. We will explain it to you later, but until then, let's keep this our little secret, yes?"

  ?"O-okay."

  ?"Good girl." His hand brushed her shoulder in passing as he walked away, whistling faintly.

  But his eyes—cold and bright—flicked to Lucien for just a heartbeat, carrying an unspoken message. ?Lucien never looked back. He just stared at the blade across his knees, trembling.

  ?Even as she left the garden, her mind clung to the blade—its hum still echoing in her bones.

  ?In Celdric's study, Cassian relayed what he had learned.

  ?“So, the sword calls her name, you say…” Celdric looked down at the table—then suddenly shoved everything off it with a loud crash. “Do you know what you are talking about?”

  ?“Yes, Father. I saw her. She came to us and told us something was calling her.”

  ?“Ghh... Damn it!” He slammed his fist on the table again, sending what remained rattling.

  “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse…”

  ?“Father,” Cassian said, slowly reaching for his shoulder.

  ?“WHAT?!” Celdric turned sharply, eyes flaring, making Cassian step back slowly.

  ?“I was actually discussing this with Uncle earlier. Given the situation, and with your support… I believe we could change his opinion on the matter.”

  Celdric narrowed his eyes, his breathing slowing down. “What are you saying?”

  ?“You always said,” Cassian whispered, leaning in, “that if your path is blocked, instead of going around it... it’s better to destroy whatever stands in your way.”

  ?There was a pause. A realization dawned in Celdric’s bloodshot eyes.

  ?“Don’t tell me...”

  ??“Yes. Exactly what you’re thinking.”

  ?“No.” Celdric shook his head, though not forcefully. “We can’t do that... She is family. She is still a child. And if people find out? The entire family name will be tarnished. Sylas would kill us.”

  ?“People will talk about what they see. What they know.” Cassian’s green eyes gleamed in the dim light. “Accidents happen, Father. Tragedies occur. Especially to young, inexperienced heirs.”

  ?Celdric leaned heavily on the table, his expression thoughtful, dark. The morality of it was battling with cold necessity.

  ?“What about the old man?” Celdric muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “Zaek. He’s too quick. Too sharp. He guards her like a hound.”

  ?Cassian smiled. It was the smile of a predator who had already set the trap.

  ?“Leave the old dog to me. Even a Hero can’t outrun his guilt.”

  ?Cassian stepped back, bowing slightly.

  ?“I will leave you to think about it.”

  ?The door clicked shut, leaving Celdric alone in the gloom.

  ?He looked down at his trembling hands. Then he looked at the family crest hanging on the wall.

  ?To keep it, he would have to stain his hands with his own niece's blood.

  He couldn't say anything on the matter.

  ?He just stood there in the suffocating silence, staring into the dark, as the shadows of the room slowly swallowed him whole.