Ciara's POV
They buried the Temple Knights in silence.
Not out of respect, but caution. Magic lingers on corpses like theirs—runes that could snare the careless, curses tied to flesh and bone. Kaelen salted the wounds. Lucian burned their robes. I watched the flames eat the cloth, the sigils twisting in the smoke like angry spirits.
I should've felt triumphant. Victorious.
Instead, I couldn't stop shaking.
"You did what you had to," Lucian said quietly beside me, watching the fire with hollow eyes.
"No," I whispered, my voice raw. "I did what they made me."
That night, the Sanctum was eerily quiet. The others—Groot, Nines, even Kaelen—disappeared into their own corners of the underground, giving me space I hadn't asked for. I couldn't sleep. Not with the mark on my hand still burning. Not with the ghost of the man I killed still staring at me every time I blinked.
Lucian found me hours later in the training hall, sitting cross-legged beside the bloodstained stones where it had all begun.
He didn't speak at first. Just walked over and sat across from me, legs folded, hands resting loosely on his knees. As if we were two students preparing to meditate, not monsters hiding from the wrath of gods.
"I've killed before," I murmured.
He nodded once. "But not like this."
"It felt… like something else moved through me. Like I wasn't fully there."
Lucian's gaze flicked down to my mark. "You weren't."
"What is this thing?" I held up my hand. The gold lines still pulsed faintly, softer now, but steady. "Why does it burn when I'm angry? Or scared?"
He exhaled slowly, as if the answer tasted like regret.
"That mark is older than werewolves. Older than vampires. Older than the Temple. It's a tether—between you and a power the world forgot existed."
"Magic?"
"More than that. Flameborn are rare. Almost myths. Your power isn't light or fire or even healing. It's memory, Ciara. Blood-deep memory. The kind the Temple tried to burn out of existence."
I stared at the stone floor. "Then why do they want me dead?"
"Because if you remember who you are…" His voice dropped. "You make their lies meaningless."
I looked up at him, heart thudding. "And who am I?"
Lucian hesitated.
Then, "I don't know."
It was the first honest thing he'd said all night.
"But I think," he continued, voice tight, "that you are not who they think you are. Nor what I once hoped. And that terrifies them."
"And you?"
Lucian's eyes met mine—silver in the shadows, stormy and still. "You don't terrify me, Ciara. But what's coming… will."
Kaelen's POV
The Temple's move had changed everything.
Ciara's power was no longer dormant. She had drawn blood. Her mark had awakened. The hunt would escalate now.
I stood at the edge of the Sanctum's old war chamber, watching Nines and Groot move supplies. We had less time than we thought.
"They'll send another squad," Groot muttered. "Bigger. Stronger. A High Inquisitor, maybe."
"If they do," I said flatly, "we'll paint the walls with their robes."
Nines snorted. "You sound like Lucian."
That made me pause.
Lucian.
Even now, I don't trust him. The bond between him and Ciara was too fast. Too tight. She was already under his shadow, already breathing his name like he was some kind of salvation. But I'd seen the flicker in his gaze when her power first ignited—not awe.
Fear.
He knew something.
And whatever it was… he was keeping it from her
The dreams returned that night.
But they weren't dreams—not really.
I stood on the edge of a cliff, bathed in silver moonlight. Before me stretched a ruined battlefield, littered with the bones of beasts and kings. Two shadows stood beside me. One was cloaked in night, the other wreathed in flame.
The one in flames reached for me.
"Awaken," it whispered. "Or all will fall."
I jerked upright, breath ragged.
The air was wrong.
Too quiet.
A second later, the door to my chamber burst open—and Lucian was already inside.
"They've breached the outer ward," he said. "Three more scouts. Kaelen's taking two. You're with me."
I scrambled up, grabbing the dagger beside my bed. "They found us again?"
"They won't stop now," Lucian said grimly. "They've scented you. The mark sings."
We raced through the lower tunnels. I could hear distant shouts—Kaelen's, sharp and angry. The clash of steel. The hiss of magic. We turned a corner—
And the wall exploded.
I was thrown against the stone, ears ringing.
Lucian rolled to his feet in an instant, fangs bared.
Through the dust came a figure I hadn't seen before.
She wore robes, yes—but no mask. Her face was uncovered, pale and beautiful, marked with glowing red sigils. Her eyes were silver like Lucian's—but empty.
"Inquisitor," Lucian snarled.
The woman smiled. "Prince of Ruin," she said sweetly. "Still playing the protector?"
I blinked. Prince of Ruin?
Lucian didn't deny it.
The Inquisitor turned her gaze on me.
"So this is the Flameborne," she said. "Poor girl. You have no idea what you are… or who you've damned by awakening."
Lucian stepped in front of me. "You'll have to go through me."
"I was hoping you'd say that."
The fight was unlike anything I'd seen.
They moved like storms—blades flashing, magic flaring, shadows dancing on the walls. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Until—
A whisper, inside my head.
Run.
I turned—and saw another Temple scout, his blade raised.
I didn't think so.
I moved.
My mark flared, golden light spilling from my hand. The sword I held ignited—pure fire trailing its edge. I struck.
The blade cut through the scout's ward like silk.
He fell.
I turned to the Inquisitor—and for a split second, our eyes met.
She faltered.
Lucian took the opening.
His blade struck true—through her chest, through her core. Her body convulsed.
And she laughed.
"You don't understand, Lucian," she gasped as blood poured from her lips. "She's not yours to protect."
Then her body turned to ash.
Silence fell.
Lucian stood over the ashes, breathing hard. "They're testing us," he said. "Me. You. Kaelen. They're probing to see if she's truly awakened."
I looked at him. "And have I?"
He didn't answer right away.
But when he did, it was with a voice full of warning and something close to awe.
"You've only begun."