Page 22

Chapter

Twenty-Two

My mind keeps racing, and I don’t try to stop it. I have to find another way. One that doesn’t involve anyone dying. Just because we haven’t found it yet doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

It only means we haven’t looked in the right place. Courtsview might hold the answer somewhere else. That’s why I’m wandering around alone. It might call to me without the distraction of others.

The stone corridors echo differently when I walk them on my own. The rebel enclave buzzes faintly behind me—quiet voices planning, preparing. But I seem to drift farther from it with each passing moment. Not running but slipping.

The farther I pull away from Harek, from Einar, from all of them, the quieter the storm inside me feels.

My thoughts still race, but with more precision.

If I let myself believe in a future where we fight and win, it only sharpens the knife waiting to fall.

Because for now the truth is clear—one must die.

No clever ritual, loophole, or shared power will save us. The blood that binds me to my father carries a single rule, and I can feel it pressing tighter with every sunrise. Better to make distance now, before fate finishes its work.

I step into one of the far alcoves, where thick ivy climbs over crumbled walls. The flicker of ward lights fades behind me, muffled by stone. Here, the weight of the ancient city settles like cold breath on my skin.

A predator watches, but not from outside—the wolf stirs beneath my ribs, pacing.

I clench my fists, grounding myself. It’s safer for them this way. For Harek, my siblings, and everyone who keeps telling me we’ll find a way forward.

They don’t see the trap tightening like I do.

I lower myself onto the edge of a broken stair, staring down at my hands as the moonlight slips between the fractured ceiling above. My palm glows faintly, but I feel no danger. Feel no fear. The city itself seems to activate both my sword and skin.

The same hands that may one day be forced to kill my father. The same hands that might soon have nothing left to hold at all.

I sit with my thoughts for a long while before returning to the main meeting place where the scholars spend most of their time.

Before I arrive, footsteps sound.

Harek appears from around a corner. He pauses just inside a broken archway, giving me space but never fully leaving. He takes a few slow steps closer.

I feel the warmth of him next to me now, steady and grounding, but it only makes the hollow inside me ache sharper.

“You don’t have to carry this alone. Let me help you.”

I glance over at him. “I need to do this on my own.”

Harek’s brow creases. “No, you actually don’t. Pushing me away is a choice you’re making.”

“I’m the one tied to this curse. The one they want dead, the one who could destroy everything if I slip. You said it yourself—this curse feeds on blood. The more I fight it, the harder it pulls.” I step away slowly, adding space between us.

His voice drops. “And that makes it stop?”

“It makes it easier for you, Einar, and my siblings.” My throat tightens around the words. “If I’m not here, no one has to make the impossible choice.”

He shakes his head slowly. “You think disappearing will protect us? Dying will protect us?” His voice grows rougher. “You’re not protecting anyone, Eira. You’re punishing yourself.”

I break his gaze, the weight of his words cutting deep.

Harek steps closer again, softer now. “We’ve always faced danger together before, and we can do it again. Just because I’m not directly involved in the hunter curse doesn’t mean you have to lock me out. We’re a team. Or did you forget?”

I want to let him closer, to believe him. But fear snakes tighter around my throat, and it’s sharper than my longing. “I don’t want you to watch me become something you can’t save.”

His jaw tightens, and his voice lowers into something raw. “You’re not lost.”

I close my eyes for a beat, fighting the trembling pull in my chest. I can’t bear to look at him any longer. “I need to be alone.”

Harek stills, shoulders tight. He studies me for a long, painful moment. “I’m not giving up on you.”

While his words mean everything, I can’t keep putting him in danger. So I say nothing.

He waits, but I don’t move. Eventually, he steps back into the shadows, his footsteps fading behind him.

Leaving me alone again, just as I asked.

An ache pulls at me, but it’s better this way.

I can protect him if we’re apart, and it’ll hurt less when we inevitably lose each other one way or another.

Sacrificing myself seems a strong option no matter which way I go—fighting this curse and trying to protect my siblings.

The words on my sword pulse subtly. Does being the Secret Keeper play a part in all of this?

Anything is possible, and nothing is. How can both situations be true at the same time?

The silence settles heavier after Harek leaves.

I sit on a bench that saw better days decades ago, fold my arms across my knees, and stare into the dark.

The ruined city feels colder now, but it’s actually the weight pressing inside me, as though the curse itself breathes quietly at the edge of my thoughts.

A faint shuffle echoes behind me.

Lys slips through the ruined archway like a shadow familiar with every curve of this broken place.

I don’t look at him. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He tilts his head. “And yet here you are.”

I exhale through tight lungs. “Don’t you ever get tired of watching me fall apart?”

“Correction. I’m watching you evolve.”

“What, no riddles?”

A hint of a grin tugs at his mouth. He’s actually quite handsome when he smiles. I’m not sure where that thought came from, and I push it away. “You make all of this sound so easy.”

“Not easy.” He steps closer but keeps enough distance not to press. “Necessary.”

I finally meet his gaze. His calm, unsettling eyes hold no pity—only a quiet certainty that both soothes and unsettles me. “The others mean well, but they cling to the rules they were born into. They believe sacrifice is the only language the curse will understand.”

“And you don’t?” My breath catches slightly on the edge of the question.

Lys steps a little closer. “I believe you could become something the curse can’t predict. That is why it fears you. That is why they fear you.”

I stare at him, my heart thundering.

“If you truly want to protect them, you must do something different. Unexpected. Running won’t save them, and dying won’t free them.

Breaking what binds you and remaking it is the only way.

” His voice lowers like a secret sliding into my ear.

“And I’ll help you… if you choose to stop fearing what you are. ”

A dangerous pulse rises in my blood. My wolf stirs beneath his words, recognizing a different kind of power laced through his voice. Part of me wants to recoil. Another part wants to hear more.

Lys watches me closely, as if reading every unspoken thought. Then, just as gently, he steps back into the dark, his voice fading as he leaves me once more. “When you’re ready, Eira, you’ll know where to find me.”

I’m not sure how long I sit here after Lys slips away. Long enough for the stars to shift and the cold to numb the edge of everything gnawing inside me.

When I finally rise and begin walking, the camp’s distant lights flicker like a distant pulse beyond the shattered archways. My steps are slow and careful, as I hope to stay unseen as I circle back.

But when I hear voices ahead, I stop just short of the main corridor and duck behind a half-crushed column.

Harek. And Einar. Talking about me .

Harek’s tone reveals his frustration. “She’s pulling further away every day. I don’t know how to reach her anymore.”

Einar, always sure of himself, speaks in his familiar low, steady timbre. “She believes she has to bear it alone.”

There’s a pause, heavy between them.

Harek’s voice dips. “You feel it too, don’t you? The way she’s preparing for something.”

“Yes.” My father’s reply is sharp with unspoken weight. “I see it in her eyes.”

Another pause.

“I won’t let her face it alone,” Harek says, fiercely quiet.

“Nor will I.” But there’s something different Einar’s tone. Not devotion, but acceptance.

The hair at the back of my neck prickles. Stumbling back, my breath shallows. I shouldn’t be listening, and I don’t want to hear any more. Because I know what that kind of resolve sounds like.

And I know exactly where it leads. My father is thinking about sacrificing himself.

I can’t let that happen.

Now I have more to think about. Just as I’m about to retreat, a sharp crack of the outer ward makes the entire camp freeze. I’m still half-hidden in the shadows, but the moment the alarm pulses, instinct kicks hard beneath my ribs.

Rebels spring into motion. Einar and Harek wheel toward the gates.

A young scout bolts down the corridor toward them. His breathless warning breaks through the thick air. “They’re here. The messengers made it through.”

Einar steps forward. “Who?”

“The wolf faction. Harek’s family pack sent word.” His voice drops, rife with urgency. “They’ve taken your parents.”

The words hit like a blade drawn across open skin. His parents are my second parents. More family to me than Gunnar ever has been.

Harek staggers half a step before his shoulders harden. “Where are they?”

“They’re demanding Eira,” the scout continues, glancing nervously toward where I stand now, fully visible. “They say the hybrid must surrender or more blood will spill.”

The camp falls painfully quiet.

My chest burns.

Einar’s gaze lands on me.

Harek’s tension is palpable, pulling tighter.

Inside, something shifts. The same old pressure curls beneath my skin, but clearer this time.

The curse wants me frozen. The pack wants me broken. Neither will get what they want.

I hold my chin high and meet Einar’s gaze. “I’m going.”