Page 33
Story: Bitten By Prophecy
KAIA
I don’t know how long I run.
Long enough that my lungs are screaming and my legs feel like they’re splintering under me.
The forest changes around me, trees thicker, twisted, the air thick with something old and electric. The human world fades behind me like a bad dream, until there’s only this: the wild, humming heart of magic.
The Fae wilds.
I didn’t mean to end up here. I didn’t even know how I could . The barrier’s supposed to be sealed off, stitched together with blood and ancient wards.
But something calls me.
Not with words.
Not even with thought.
Just... a pull.
Deep in my bones.
In my goddamn soul.
I stumble into a clearing and collapse, hands sinking into the mossy ground like it might swallow me whole. My body shakes, the remnants of power flickering under my skin like fireflies.
Everything’s wrong.
Everything’s broken.
I’m broken.
I press my forehead into the cool earth and squeeze my eyes shut, fighting back the tears threatening to claw their way out of me.
I can’t be what they want.
I can't be what Elias wants.
I can't even figure out who the hell I am anymore.
I hear it then, soft, like wind chimes in a storm.
A voice.
“Kaia.”
I jerk my head up so fast it makes me dizzy.
Standing across the clearing is a woman.
Not a woman.
Something more.
Her hair is a wild crown of silver curls, her skin glowing faintly gold under the heavy moonlight. Her eyes shimmer with ancient light, like twin suns behind a veil.
I know her without knowing how.
She’s the woman from the picture.
"Grandmother," I whisper, the word falling from my lips like a prayer.
She smiles. Sad and sweet and knowing.
"You found your way," she says, her voice rich and warm like the earth after rain. "Or perhaps... it found you."
I struggle to my feet, every nerve screaming to run, to fight, to hide . But I don't.
I can't.
"Why am I here?" I rasp.
Her smile dims, and she lifts one hand. A pulse of magic rolls through the air, thick and sweet and terrifying.
And suddenly, I’m seeing .
Visions slam into me, raw and brutal.
The Veil, spun from blood and bone and will. Fae and human magic woven together like a fragile tapestry.
The wars that tore the realms apart.
The sacrifice it took to seal the Veil and keep the worlds from destroying each other.
And through it all—one bloodline.
One anchor.
A tether between realms.
A last hope.
Me.
I stagger back, breath ripping out of me in a broken gasp.
"No," I whisper. "No, I—I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this."
"You were never meant to want it," she says gently. "Only to be it."
The clearing shifts around us, the trees bowing closer, the stars bending like they’re listening.
"You are the Veil’s last breath," my grandmother says. "It's heart. It’s end, or it’s beginning."
I shake my head, fists clenching. "I don’t even know what the hell that means."
"It means," she says, stepping closer, "you are the line between survival and annihilation."
She brushes her hand against my temple, and the visions sharpen, sharper than a blade to the bone.
I see myself, glowing with wild power, the ground cracking beneath my feet.
I see the Veil, torn and bleeding, shadows pouring through like a wound.
I see Elias, bloodied, roaring, fighting against monsters I can't even name.
I see the world burning.
I wrench away from her touch, panting, fury bubbling up inside me.
"This isn’t fair," I snarl. "You—you talk about bloodlines and destiny like they’re a fucking gift. They're a death sentence."
Her eyes soften, but there’s iron under her voice. "Sometimes, child, death and life walk hand in hand."
I stagger back another step, heart slamming against my ribs.
I think about Elias, his hands rough and steady on my skin, his mouth on mine like he was trying to memorize me.
I think about the way he looked at me.
Like I was salvation.
Like I was hope.
And all I can think is— he deserves better than this.
Better than a girl caught in a storm she can't control.
Better than a bomb waiting to go off.
Tears burn down my face, but I scrub them away with shaking hands.
"I can't—" My voice cracks. "I can't drag him down with me."
"You will not be alone," my grandmother says.
But the words feel hollow.
I already am.
Hours later, maybe days—I stumble out of the Fae wilds, bruised and battered and hollowed out.
No idea where the hell I am.
No plan.
No map.
Just the pounding ache in my chest, and the cold certainty ringing in my bones:
If I stay... if I stay with him...
I will destroy him.
And I can’t let that happen. I already know, in such a short amount of time, before the visions, he’s too important to me.
I turn away from the direction I know leads back to him.
My fists clench at my sides.
One step.
Two.
Each one a knife in my gut.
Each one slicing away the pieces of me that still remember the way his arms felt around me. The way he whispered my name like it meant something.
The way he believed in me when I didn’t even believe in myself.
I’m sorry, Elias.
I bite the words back.
Bury them deep.
Because apologies won’t save him.
Only leaving will.
Only walking away.
Only letting him go.
Table of Contents
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- Page 33 (Reading here)
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