A dull ache throbbed at the base of my skull as I drifted back into consciousness.
The world felt heavy, my limbs sluggish, my mind trapped in the fog of whatever had just happened.
Then, I felt it, solid arms lifting me effortlessly.
Zarich.
The scent of cedar and smoke filled my senses, grounding me. His grip was firm but careful, his body tense like a coiled spring.
Beside him, another voice, Marcus.
I blinked up at him, barely registering the way his face creased with concern.
"I don't have much time," Marcus whispered urgently. "Follow through this door. At the end of the hallway, turn left. The exit is right there."
Zarich gave a sharp nod. "Thanks, mate."
Marcus exhaled, looking between us, then down at me. "Take care of her. I hope she's okay."
Zarich didn't waste a second.
He turned, marching through the door without hesitation.
I felt the shift in the air as we left the suffocating darkness behind, my skin prickling as the cool night breeze hit me.
We moved fast, Zarich's measured, controlled strides barely jostling me.
I tried to speak, but my throat felt raw, like I had been screaming.
I forced myself to stay conscious, to piece together what had happened.
By the time we rounded the building, Zarich stopped beside his sleek silver car.
He opened the passenger door and gently eased me inside, securing me in place.
The soft click of the seatbelt barely registered.
The door shut.
A moment later, Zarich slid into the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life.
We were leaving.
But the question remained: what the hell had just happened to me?
Zarich pulled away from Lune Noire, his grip firm on the wheel, his jaw tight with unspoken thoughts.
Streetlights blurred past, casting fleeting glows over his tense profile.
I tried to speak, but my throat felt raw.
I swallowed, forcing down the ache. "Zarich?"
His eyes flicked toward me briefly before returning to the road. "You're awake." His voice was calm, steady, but I knew better.
I cleared my throat. "What happened?"
A beat of silence.
Then, his fingers tightened around the wheel, the leather creaking beneath his grip.
"That's what I'd like to know."
His voice was sharper now, laced with frustration. "I walked in, and you were on the damn floor, unconscious. Marcus looked like he'd seen a ghost."
I blinked, my pulse pounding in my ears. "Marcus...?"
"He told me to get you out. Fast. That's all I needed to hear."
I dragged a shaking hand through my hair, trying to recall anything.
Flashes. Shadows. Pain.
My mind was a scattered mess.
Zarich exhaled through his nose. "Athena, what the hell happened in there?"
I turned toward the window, watching the darkened city blur past. "I don't know."
But I did know one thing.
Whoever they were looking for, it wasn't me anymore.
The low hum of the engine filled the silence, the steady rhythm of the tires against the pavement grounding me. The ghosts of pain still lingered under my skin.
I exhaled, pressing my palm to my temple, trying to shake the feeling that something was still wrong.
Then, a slow realization crept over me.
We weren't heading home.
The streets were unfamiliar, the towering skyline of Lysoria shifting into the more secluded, older quarters of the city.
My stomach tightened.
"Where are we going?" My voice came out steadier than I felt.
Zarich didn't look at me immediately. "You need a healer."
A prickle of unease ran down my spine.
"Why?" I pressed.
His eyes flicked toward me, just for a second. "Look at yourself, Athena."
Frowning, I followed his gaze, and stilled.
Deep, jagged purple lashes bloomed across my arms, trailing in sinister, branching patterns down to my wrists.
A violent mark of whatever the shadows had done to me.
My heart lurched as I pushed back the hem of my dress, my fingers trembling.
Dark, spreading stains of trauma covered my skin, as if the shadows had coiled inside me, leaving evidence of their grip even after they had vanished.
I swallowed hard. "I—I didn't even feel—"
"Your body's still in shock," Zarich interrupted, his voice quieter now, but firm. "Whatever they did to you, it wasn't meant to kill you. It was meant to test you."
A sickening realization settled deep in my gut.
They had hurt me.
But only to see how I would react.
The pressure. The whispers. The way they stopped the moment I admitted I had no magic.
They were looking for something I didn't have.
And now, I was marked by it.
I clenched my jaw, shifting in my seat, forcing the rising panic to settle.
"Who are we going to?"
Zarich exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening on the wheel.
"An old friend. Someone who knows things about magic that the Council pretends don't exist."
I didn't like the sound of that.
But I wasn't in a position to argue.
Not when my own body was proof that something had latched onto me.
The car slowed to a stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires, coming to rest before a house that felt like it had been plucked from another time, untouched, undisturbed, and forgotten by the world beyond.
A two-story stone cottage, ancient yet well-preserved, sat nestled beneath the sprawling canopy of towering trees. Ivy twisted up its weathered walls, illuminated by the soft, golden glow of flickering lanterns. The roof was sloped and shingled, weathered by time, and the arched wooden door, reinforced with dark iron, stood like an entryway to another era.
The air here felt different, charged with something old and unspoken.
I tried to move, to push myself up from the seat, but the moment I did, pain tore through me.
A sharp, excruciating agony ripped through my body, spreading from my wrists and legs where the bruises still burned like fresh wounds. A strangled gasp escaped me, and I slumped back against the seat.
"Don't move." Zarich's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
He was already out of the car, moving around to my side. With practiced ease, he opened my door, then carefully lifted me into his arms, making sure not to jostle me too much.
Even in my haze, I felt the tense way his muscles coiled, as if he was bracing himself for something.
As he stepped toward the gate, it creaked open on its own, slow and deliberate, as if it had been waiting for us.
A chill prickled down my spine.
This place wasn't just a home.
It was alive.
Zarich carried me up the stone steps, his shoes barely making a sound against the smooth surface.
The front door swung open before we even reached it.
And the moment I saw who stood inside, my jaw nearly hit the floor.
Safyrr.
The same silver-tattooed fae woman who owned the quiet little restaurant in Lowmere.
The one who had welcomed me like a familiar face.
Now, she was standing in the threshold of a house that felt like it had been plucked straight from the pages of a forgotten legend, staring at me like she already knew why I was here.
Her eyes, silver and endless, landed on me, and for the first time, I saw something beyond recognition in them.
Understanding.
And maybe even… expectation.
The realization sent a shiver through me.
She knew.
Before I could speak, her gaze flickered over me, lingering on my arms, my legs, where bruises bloomed like dark ink beneath my skin.
Her expression hardened.
"Inside. Now." Her voice was smooth but held an edge of authority, one that left no room for argument.
Zarich didn't hesitate. He stepped past the threshold, carrying me inside as if we'd already been invited long before we arrived.
The moment we crossed into the house, the door swung shut behind us on its own.
A chill crawled down my spine.
This place wasn't just old. It was alive.
The air inside hummed with an energy I couldn't explain, not magic, not entirely. Something deeper. Something ancient.
The walls were lined with wooden shelves, cluttered with vials of swirling liquid, dried herbs, and aged scrolls bound with delicate strands of silver thread. A large, circular stone hearth burned at the center of the room, its flames casting dancing shadows along the curved ceiling.
It felt… sacred.
And strangely, familiar.
Zarich lowered me onto a cushioned bench near the fire, careful not to aggravate my wounds.
I sucked in a breath as another sharp pang of pain rippled through my body, my limbs stiff from whatever the shadows had done to me.
Safyrr didn't move immediately.
She simply watched me, her silver eyes flickering with unreadable emotion.
"Tell me," she finally said, stepping closer, her voice quieter now. "What did they do to you?"
I swallowed hard, fragments of memory stabbing through my mind like jagged glass, sharp, scattered, incomplete, but unmistakably real.
The pain. The shadows coiling around me like living things. The way they sliced through my skin, pressing, crushing, suffocating.
I could still feel it.
I took a slow breath, my voice steady despite the unease clawing at my ribs.
"They were testing me."
Safyrr stilled.
Then, without another word, she reached out and placed a hand over my arm, directly over the rune.
The moment Safyrr's hand pressed against it, a surge of heat rushed through my veins, burning beneath my skin like molten gold.
The air around us crackled, like something old, buried, and long-forgotten was stirring.
The walls of the stone cottage trembled, shelves rattling, the flames in the hearth flickering as if caught in an invisible wind.
I gasped, my body locking up, but Safyrr didn't move, her silver eyes locked onto mine.
Then, in a voice softer, but laced with something heavy, she murmured,
"I knew you felt familiar when you came to my restaurant."
The words sent a shiver through me.
Safyrr's fingers tightened slightly over my arm, her expression unreadable.
"She did a great job concealing you."
My breath caught in my throat.
She?
My pulse thundered. "What are you talking about? Who hid me?"
Safyrr exhaled slowly, her eyes scanning my face as if debating how much to tell me.
Then, finally, she let go of my arm.
The heat vanished, leaving behind an unsettling hollowness in its wake.
She turned away, moving toward the hearth, throwing a few dried sprigs of herbs into the fire. The flames hissed, turning a deep, unnatural blue.
"You've been hidden for a long time, Athena," she said, her tone more measured now. "But I knew it wouldn't have taken them long to learn of your existence. And now… they are looking for you."
I stiffened, gripping the edges of the cushioned bench beneath me. "Who is 'they'?"
Safyrr didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she turned back to me, her gaze sharp, assessing.
"Before I tell you that, I need to know..." Her voice dipped, a strange weight behind her words. "Do you truly have no magic?"
A lump formed in my throat.
"I don't," I whispered, my voice tight. "They pushed, they tore through me, and when they found nothing… they left."
Safyrr's jaw tightened slightly, her silver tattoos glowing faintly in the firelight.
She watched me for a long moment before saying, "They didn't leave you because you had no magic, Athena. They left you because they couldn't find it."
My stomach twisted.
"What?"
Safyrr slowly approached, kneeling in front of me, her gaze steady.
"The dark force that attacked you was searching for something, your powers."
"But it couldn't find it, because it was never meant to."
My heart pounded.
"I don't understand..."
"Your magic is locked away, protected by an enchantment so strong that nothing, not even the darkest of forces can detect it."
The room tilted.
Everything inside me screamed this wasn't possible.
I had no magic.
But now…
Now, Safyrr was telling me that I wasn't just hidden, my true power had been locked away, buried so deep that even I couldn't feel it.
Safyrr's eyes bore into mine, the flickering blue fire casting eerie shadows along her face. "To them, you are fully human."
I swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in.
Human?