Lyanna's POV
The alarm bells meant one thing: they'd found the empty cell.
I ran through shadow-filled hallways in Seraphine's body, my heart pounding against ribs that didn't belong to me. Guards shouted behind me. Footsteps echoed. They were getting closer.
I'd broken her out. Used shadow magic to open the dungeons and free the real Seraphine from her prison. It was the dumbest, most reckless thing I'd ever done.
But I couldn't let her die for my decisions.
"This way!" Seraphine's voice—my voice, coming from my original body—called from around a corner. She looked strange wearing my face, my clothes, my everything. Like looking in a twisted mirror.
We crashed through a servants' door and into the night. Cold air hit my borrowed lungs. Behind us, the palace exploded with lights and shouting.
"They're coming," I gasped. "We need to—"
"I know where to go." Seraphine grabbed my hand. The touch felt wrong—my own hand holding someone else's version of my hand. "There's a link. Hidden. My father doesn't know about it."
"How—"
"Because I'm the one who made it." Her smile was sharp. "You think I'd live in that house without an escape route? I've been planning to run for years."
We raced through dark grounds, past statues and fountains. My body—her body—the one I was stuck in—moved differently than I expected. Faster. Stronger. Shadow magic made everything clearer, more dangerous.
"Here!" Seraphine pulled me behind a dead tree. She pressed her hand—my hand—against the trunk and mumbled words in a language I didn't recognize.
The air ripped open. A doorway, swirling with darkness and stars.
"Where does it go?" I asked.
"The Wildlands. Where rejects and rogues hide. Where dragons can't easily follow." She looked at me with my own green eyes. "We go through together or we both die here. Your choice."
Behind us, guards burst into the yard. Dozens of them, led by the Shadow King himself.
"There!" he roared. "Stop them!"
No time to think. No time to plan.
I grabbed Seraphine's hand and we jumped through the portal together.
The world bent. My stomach lurched. For one terrible moment I felt like I was being turned inside out, every piece of me scattered across space.
Then we crashed onto solid ground.
I looked around, breathing. We stood in a forest—ancient trees reaching toward a star-filled sky. The air smelled different here. Wilder. Free.
"The Wildlands," Seraphine confirmed, getting to her feet. "We made it."
"They'll follow," I said. "Your father—my father now, I guess—he won't stop—"
"Let him try." She brushed dirt off my old clothes. "The Wildlands don't answer to dragon kings. That's why people like us run here."
People like us. Outcasts. Refugees. The broken ones.
I looked at her—at myself, wearing someone else's soul—and something cracked in my chest.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "For taking your body. Your life. Your everything."
She stared at me for a long moment. Then, shockingly, she laughed.
"You saved my life tonight. Broke me out of jail even though you could have left me to rot." She touched her chest—my chest—where the dark lines still burned. "Why? I tried to kill you. Multiple times."
"Because we're the same." The truth felt heavy. "Both trapped by strong men. Both pushed into lives we didn't choose. Both desperate and scared and trying to live."
"I'm not scared," she said immediately. Then softer: "Okay, maybe I am. A little. This body—your body—it feels so fragile. So breakable. How did you live like this?"
"Carefully." I managed a weak smile. "Very carefully."
A sound in the forest made us both freeze. Footsteps. Multiple sets. Coming closer.
"More guards?" Seraphine whispered.
"Or worse." I felt dark magic stirring under my borrowed skin. "Wildlands animals. They don't like tourists."
The footsteps got louder. Closer.
Then a figure stepped from the trees.
Tall. Scarred. Storm-gray hair and silver eyes that locked onto me with sharp focus.
Kieran.
"There you are." His soul mark blazed bright enough to light up the clearing. "I felt you cross into the Wildlands. Felt the bond pulling me here." His eyes shifted to Seraphine-in-my-body. "Both of you."
"How did you get here so fast?" I asked.
"Storm dragons are fast when motivated." He moved closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "And discovering that my soul mate escaped prison while planning either suicide or regicide counts as very motivating."
"You heard that?" My face—Seraphine's face—went hot.
"Shadow magic isn't as private as you think." He glanced between us. "So. Which plan are we going with? Death or revolution?"
"Neither," a new voice said.
I spun around.
An old woman stood there. Ancient, with silver hair and white eyes that saw everything.
"Grandmother?" The word slipped before I could stop it.
"Not your grandmother, child." The old woman smiled sadly. "Though I knew her well. I'm Elder Morgana's sister. And I've been waiting for you both."
"Both?" Seraphine asked.
"The oracle spoke of two souls bound by shadow. Two women who would either destroy the countries or save them." The elder's white eyes fixed on us. "You fled the palace. But you're not free yet. The soul swap is still ongoing. The dark runes still bind you. And your time is running out."
"Running out?" Ice shot through my blood. "What do you mean?"
"The magic keeping you in wrong bodies is shaky. It was never meant to last." She pointed at the runes on my chest. "In three days, those marks will trigger. And when they do, both bodies will die. Souls included."
"No." Kieran's voice was flat. "There has to be a way to stop it."
"There is." The elder looked between me and Seraphine. "But it needs something none of you are ready for. A choice that will break hearts and reshape countries."
"Tell us," I ordered.
"One of you must accept your new body forever. Embrace it. Become it fully. And the other must die to free their soul back to its original vessel."
The words hung in the cold air.
Seraphine looked at me. I stared at her.
One of us had to die. Really die. For the other to live.
"There's more," the older continued. "The one who survives and stays swapped—her power will grow a hundredfold. Primordial magic plus the stolen body's original power. She'll become unstoppable."
"And the cost?" Kieran asked quietly.
"She'll never be able to return to her true body. Never be recognized by those who loved her natural face. She'll spend the rest of her life as someone else."
I felt tears on Seraphine's borrowed face. "That's not a choice. That's torture."
"That's survival." The elder's voice relaxed. "And you have three days to decide. Choose wrong and you both die. Choose right and one of you becomes the most powerful being in the Five Kingdoms."
She started to fade back into the trees.
"Wait!" Seraphine called. "Who should choose? Who should live?"
"That's not for me to decide." The elder's voice echoed. "But I'll give you one hint. The prophecy says 'she who accepts the shadow shall rule it.' Think carefully about what that means."
She vanished.
Silence fell heavy between us.
"Three days," I whispered.
"Three days," Seraphine agreed.
Kieran stepped forward, his storm mark still glowing. "Then we have three days to find another way. Because I'm not losing either of you."
"There is no other way," I said miserably.
"There's always another way." His jaw set with determination. "We just have to be smart enough—and desperate enough—to find it."
Behind us, the opening suddenly blazed to life again.
We all spun around.
Cassian stepped through, covered in blood and breathing hard. His golden eyes found mine instantly.
"I killed him," he said bluntly. "My father. I killed the Fire King."
The world turned.
"What?" I breathed.
"He was going to send troops after you. Was planning to burn the Wildlands to ash with you in it." Cassian's hands shook. "So I challenged him. Fought him. And I won."
"You committed regicide," Seraphine said, voice sharp. "For her."
"For both of you." Cassian looked between us. "For the truth. For the chance to fix this nightmare." His eyes found mine again. "And because I'm done being the coward prince who lets people suffer while he hides behind duty."
Kieran crossed his arms. "The Shadow King is still alive though."
"Not for long." Cassian's smile was terrible. "Because now I have an army. And a crown. And absolutely nothing left to lose."
He held out his hand to me.
"So what do you say, Lyanna? Ready to start a war?"
Before I could answer, the ground beneath us started shaking.
Trees bent. The sky darkened. And from everywhere and nowhere, a voice boomed: "THE PRIMORDIAL AWAKENS. THE TRIAL BEGINS. LET THE BLOOD GAMES COMMENCE."
Magic burst outward from my body—Seraphine's body—in a wave of shadow and fire and something older than time itself.
When I opened my eyes, the forest had changed into an arena.
And surrounding us were hundreds of creatures, dragons, and fighters.
All watching. All waiting.
The elder's voice whispered in my mind: "The prophecy has triggered early. Now you'll face the trials meant to choose which soul deserves to live. Fight well, child. Your life depends on it."
A gong struck.
And the monsters attacked.