"It's been two days already," Ronan said, standing by the window, glancing at her.
"She has to train, but the risk involved is greater than bargained for," he added, concern etched across his features. He turned to Kaelith, who had been checking on her from time to time.
"With time," Kaelith responded—the only thing that could come from his mouth.
"Hopefully," Ronan added, his voice barely audible.
Another message arrived from the council—more urgent this time, he said, stealing a glance at her sleeping form.
"Why the wait?" Kaelith continued, summarizing the message.
Without a word, Ronan continued to stare out the window, as if seeking answers and finding none.
"I'll get going then," Kaelith said, rising. "Matters to attend to."
A nod was all Ronan could manage.
— ✦ — ✦ — ✦ —
The sound of quick footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by Kaelith's voice. "Wanna race, Ronan?" He laughed, a stark contrast to the tension that still clung to the air.
"You bet," Kaelith's voice came from just behind him, filled with a playful giggle that somehow lightened the mood.
A smile curled on Ronan's lips. They'd known each other for ages. Kaelith had been his comfort after the death of his father—killed by rogues due to betrayal when Ronan was eighteen. His mother had passed earlier, from an illness that was now curable—something Ronan thought about bitterly.
Taking another look at her sleeping form, Ronan admitted how much he had come to care about her, despite everything. He thought this through clenched teeth. The task was drawing closer, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Walking away from the window, he sat by her bedside, gazing intently at her peaceful expression.
She was a brunette. Her brown hair cascaded around the pillows. She had unique eyes—the color of hazel.
"I'd love to see more of those," he thought.
Her nose curved where it should. Her lips were full.
"I must be insane to admire everything about her," he thought, running his fingers through his hair.
As if listening to his thoughts, she stirred in bed but moved no further.
In that fleeting moment, the duvet shifted, revealing her inner arm. A faint glow emanated from the mark on her skin—its edges pulsing as if alive. Ronan's breath caught in his throat. This was no ordinary birthmark. It was a sigil—a royal seal from a bloodline long thought extinct. The mark pulsed faintly, its energy almost... sentient.
With each passing day, new mysteries about her revealed themselves.
Leaning back, his thoughts wandered to two days ago.
Hurried footsteps had approached his study door, and it had opened to reveal Lucien—flustered—delivering a message. A very different image from his usually put-together self.
"She is unconscious," Lucien rushed. "The prophecy... Spiral... fangs."
Words tumbled out of his mouth in a hurry, making little sense.
Without waiting, Ronan rushed to the field, lifted her up, and returned to her room in haste, instructing Kaelith to call his personal doctor—concern boldly etched on his features.
The prophecy...
With tightened jaws, he remembered the words:
"When silver wanes and red skies bloom,
The silent flame shall shake the gloom.
Born of blood both old and rare,
With moonlit eyes and fire's glare.
By spiral, by fang she is sealed,
A mark of the purest blood revealed.
When shadowsstir and silence sings,
Four shall seek her—bond or blade,
By her voice, the fate of all.
To bind, to break, to rise, to rend—
The choice she makes shall mark the end."
But it was still cryptic, and something he must unravel.
"I'll get to the bottom of this," he muttered, walking toward the door.
— ✦ — ✦ — ✦ —
Two hours later, Aria slowly opened her eyes, trying to adjust to her surroundings.
"How long have I been asleep?" she mumbled, sitting up.
Looking at her hand, she noticed a drip.
"What happened?" she thought, her temples throbbing as she raked through her memory.
"Ahh... the training," she said, sighing.
Idon't remember much, just falling... a prophecy? she thought, her head spinning as she pieced together fragments of what she'd heard. She felt the weight of the words, but not yet the full weight of their meaning.
Detaching the drip, she got out of bed and walked to the mirror.
"I look like hell," she said, dragging her hands across her face.
"Pretty hell," she added, smiling.
The door opened.
"You're awake now," Kaelith said, walking into the room.
"You shouldn't be up," he said, eyeing her.
"I'm perfectly fine now," she said, revealing a smile.
With his eyes still on her, he continued, "We've been checking on you."
"We?"
"I and Ronan..."
Turning to the window, he added, "He's really concerned."
"Ohh, he should be," she thought.
"Really?" she said, more of a statement than a question.
"He is so uptight, rule-bent," she added, sighing. "Very annoying and damn frustrating... acting too mature."
"I know," Kaelith chuckled. "Known him my whole life."
"Also, allow me to let you in on a little secret," he said mischievously, looking at the door as if expecting someone.
"He's only twenty-three."
"Twenty-three?" she gasped, eyes wide in shock. "I knew he was young, but he acts too mature for his age."
"Mm-hmm. Took the Alpha title at eighteen, after the old Alpha—his father—was killed during a rogue ambush. Hasn't stopped since. No time to be young when power's forced on you early."
She stayed quiet, absorbing the words. That explained a lot—the constant burden in his gaze, the way he kept people at a distance.
— ✦ — ✦ — ✦ —
The sound of an engine approached in the distance, closing in. Soon, a sleek black Genesis G90 came into view, rolling further into the estate.
"Who would have thought cars existed in this part of the world?" she said out loud.
Laughter was heard behind her.
"I thought out loud, didn't I?" she said, rolling her eyes.
"What do you think we are... revenants?" Kaelith said, chuckling further.
"You seem to be having so much fun," came a voice from the door as it opened, revealing Ronan.
His eyes darted to the bed, finding it empty before going to the window.
His expression softened on seeing her.
"You're up now," he said, in a voice he barely recognized as his.
"You should be resting," he added, resetting to his usual tone—sinking back into his original form.
"I'm fine."
"See?" she said, wriggling her body.
"Was it you that drove in?"
"Yes..."
"And I could have sworn you all lived like outlanders," she said, laughing.
"We have our reasons," he said with a curve of his lips.
"I'm glad you're awake now, Aria," he said softly.
What am I doing? he questioned himself internally.
"I'm also glad," she said, grinning. "I feel good as new."
"I just came from the council," he said, talking to her but looking at Kaelith—eyes conveying words.
"The council demands your presence in two days' time," he said, throat tight.
"I'll be back. Be safe..." Glancing at her, he walked toward the door.
---
"Dammit," he thought, his jaw tightening. The weight of his words hit him harder than expected. How long could he keep protecting her? A knot twisted in his chest as the thought lingered. The door in front of him suddenly felt miles away.
He couldn't bear to keep doing this—to shield her from the inevitable truth, to play the role of protector. With a final glance at her, he walked to the door, the burden on his shoulders growing with every step.
Holding the door handle, he cast one last look over his shoulder—just in time to see it.
The mark on her arm flickered once more, but with more intensity this time.
He turned to Kaelith and knew that he saw it too.
I doubt she sees the glow, he thought, shutting the door.
"Doesn't this just keep getting more interesting," he said aloud, his tone flat.
Then, with one final thought:
"A timeless odyssey begins," he mused as he walked away.