The wind inside the Shadow Court turned colder.
Elara stood on the marble balcony overlooking the endless silver city. Darius had left her there to "rest," but her mind refused to stay still. His words—*I killed your father*—echoed in her skull, louder than the storm outside.
She touched the silver mark on her wrist. It pulsed faintly, matching the rhythm of her heartbeat. Every pulse came with a whisper in her mind, a voice she didn't recognize.
*He lied to you. They all did.*
"Elara," a voice called behind her.
She turned—and froze.
Three figures stood in the doorway, cloaked in shadows, their faces hidden behind silver masks. Each carried a blade that shimmered faintly in the moonlight.
"The girl," one hissed. "The marked one."
Elara stumbled back. "Who are you?"
"Judgment," said another—and lunged.
A flash of steel. Elara raised her hands instinctively—
—and the world exploded with light.
Silver fire burst from her skin, rippling through the air like a storm made of moonlight. The masked attackers were thrown backward, their cloaks catching flame as the marble beneath her cracked from the force.
Elara gasped, staring at her hands, still glowing. "What… what did I just—"
"Don't move!"
Darius appeared out of nowhere, sword in hand, eyes blazing. In one swift motion, he sliced through the nearest attacker, his blade humming with dark energy.
The air around him shimmered, and for the first time, Elara saw his true form.
Not human. Not even close.
Shadow spilled from his skin like smoke; black wings unfolded from his back—tattered but magnificent. His eyes burned with ancient power, and his voice carried something that didn't belong to this world.
"Stay behind me!" he shouted, his words vibrating through the floor.
Elara did—but the mark on her wrist burned hotter, reacting to his power. The light from her hand reached toward him, threads of silver weaving through his shadow like lightning through a storm.
The two energies—hers and his—met in midair.
The entire chamber trembled.
Darius turned, eyes wide. "Elara—stop! You'll—"
Too late.
The power surged between them, a blinding pulse that threw both of them to the ground. The masked soldiers vanished in the explosion of light and dark, their screams echoing into the wind.
When the silence returned, Elara lay sprawled on the floor, chest heaving, her vision blurred.
She felt warmth against her cheek—Darius's hand, trembling slightly as he brushed away the blood on her skin. His wings were gone, fading like smoke.
"You're hurt," he murmured.
Elara looked up at him, dazed. "So are you."
Their eyes met—too close, too breathless. For a heartbeat, the world around them didn't exist.
The mark on her wrist glowed faintly again, and this time the light didn't burn. It warmed. Like it recognized *him.*
"What is this between us?" she whispered.
Darius's voice broke. "The beginning of the end."
Then he collapsed beside her, the moonlight turning red with his blood.
---
✨ End of Chapter 5 ✨