Page 35
Story: Bitten By Prophecy
KAIA
I ’m not fucking ready for this.
The thought drills itself into my skull as I dart through the alleys, the rotting underbelly of the city yawning open around me like a gaping wound. The underground smells like mold, rust, desperation—and right now, fear. My fear.
Fear for them. Fear for him.
My boots scuff against the cracked concrete as I press deeper into the maze of tunnels, heart hammering so hard it’s a miracle I’m not leaving a damn echo. Every step slices through me, but I don’t slow down. I can’t.
Word travels fast through the underground if you know which rats to shake. And I shook ‘em all.
Every last lowlife, smuggler, rogue spellcaster, and gutter-witch that owed me a favor—or was stupid enough to fear my name—gave me the same whispered truth:
Elias has been taken.
Typhon’s Brood has him.
The moment I heard it, something inside me shattered wide open, raw and screaming.
I thought breaking away from him would save us both.
I thought pushing him away would save the fucking Veil.
But the second his name came out of that rat-faced trader’s mouth, I knew I’d made the biggest goddamn mistake of my life.
And I’m not about to sit here and wring my hands while he bleeds out in some underground hellhole.
No fucking way.
The tunnel opens up into a half-collapsed station, the air thick with mildew and regret. I yank the hood lower over my face, scanning the place.
My little “army” waits in the shadows—half-wild shifters, a rogue witch whose magic leaks like a cracked dam, two pissed-off half-bloods from the Outer Rims. Not much. Not even close to enough.
But they came when I called and need a group quick. They were fast to take on the Brood and that’s all I needed.
Because of him.
Because of what Typhon’s Brood wants to do.
Because someone still has to believe in more than fucking survival.
I square my shoulders and step up onto the broken fountain, ignoring the pain rippling through my ribs. Took a few hits getting here.
I can bleed later.
"We move fast," I bark out. "We hit hard. In and out before Typhon even knows what the fuck happened."
The shifter leader, a broad-shouldered guy named Corran—grunts. "They'll have wards."
"I’ll burn through them," snaps Sansa, the witch, her palms already sparking with dark blue light.
"And the guards?" asks one of the half-bloods, spitting on the floor.
I bare my teeth. "We kill what we have to. We leave who we can. But we get him out. No matter what."
A low ripple of agreement moves through them.
Good.
I need them furious. I need them ruthless. I need them ready to spill blood for a cause bigger than their own miserable skin.
I jump down, blade already sliding into my palm, and lead the way.
Typhon’s compound sits like a goddamn cancer in the woods.
Old, abandoned military base. Half-covered in vines. Shields flickering around it like oil on water.
But I can feel him inside.
Elias.
It’s not logical. It’s not some Order-trained sixth sense. It’s something older. Something raw and tethered to me so deep it makes my whole damn body ache.
He’s in there. He’s hurting. And I’m gonna rip this place to the fucking ground to get him back.
We breach the first shield with a blast of fae-light so bright it sears the bark off the nearby trees.
The guards scramble—too slow, too soft.
We fall on them like wolves.
I fight like I’m possessed. No hesitation. No mercy.
Steel bites flesh. Magic howls through the air. The night stinks of blood and smoke and burning lies.
Corran and the others clear the south wing. Sansa shatters the outer ward. I move straight for the heart of it. For him.
It takes everything I have not to break when I find him.
Thrown in a pit, chained like some goddamn trophy, bruises marring his ash-gray skin. His long hair is matted with blood and dirt. His breathing is ragged.
But he’s alive.
I can feel it the second I step into the room, feel the pull between us, deeper and fiercer than anything I’ve ever fucking known.
His eyes flutter open when I drop to my knees beside him.
Ice-blue. Shattered. Still burning.
"Kaia," he rasps, voice broken, raw.
I choke on the lump in my throat and grab his face in my hands. "Yeah, yeah, it’s me," I whisper. "I’m here. I’m gonna get you out."
He tries to shake his head, tries to warn me about something, but I’m already working at the chains with a blade half-melted from the wards. I don't give a shit. I will tear these fucking walls down if I have to.
"You're so goddamn stubborn," he croaks, his mouth curving in something that’s half a smile, half a snarl of pain.
"You're goddamn right I am," I snap, blinking fast. "Now shut up and let me rescue your ass."
The chains fall away with a shriek of metal.
I catch him as he collapses forward, and for a heartbeat, we just cling to each other—two broken things held together by something bigger than pain.
Something stronger than fear. Hope.
I press my forehead to his, breathing him in, the scent of leather and blood and smoke. "You’re not allowed to die," I murmur. "Not before you piss me off one more time."
His laugh is low and cracked but real.
And gods, it’s the best fucking sound I’ve ever heard.
But the ground rumbles beneath us—the alarm spells finally tripping—and I know we’ve got seconds before Typhon’s forces flood this place.
I sling Elias’s arm over my shoulders and haul him up.
"We’re not done," I whisper against his hair. "You and me. We’re not fucking done."
He squeezes my wrist, weak but sure. "Damn right we’re not."
We stagger toward the breach, blood pounding in my ears.
And for once I believe it.
I believe we’re going to survive this.
Table of Contents
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