Kael's POV
I could not stop thinking about Aiden.
Arith had gone back to the outer fissure to retrieve him, and every instinct in my body demanded that I follow her. I wanted to feel his pulse beneath my fingers. I wanted to see with my own eyes that he was breathing, that he was whole.
Instead, Arith had shoved me back toward the inner cavern, her voice leaving no room for argument: "You need your Core, Kael. If you want to protect him, get your power back first."
I hated that she was right.
Without my Great Core, I was still a formidable creature, but I was hollow. I had spent three excruciating centuries surviving on scraps of my true strength. Against Eryn and whatever dark legions he had dragged across the realm, a fragment of power would never be enough.
I turned back to the task at hand as she went back for Aiden.
My Core rested within an enormous, ancient formation of jagged slate. The earth itself seemed to have grown around the golden orb over the centuries, cradling it in layers of dark granite. It blazed through the gloom like a miniature globe of trapped sunlight, casting long, liquid-gold shadows across the cavern walls.
I stared at it, frozen.
It looked... different from how I remembered it. Or perhaps three hundred years of exile had simply warped my memories. The last time I had laid eyes on that radiant light, I had been standing in the heart of my empire, fighting for my people .
But here it was. Right in front of me.
My hand trembled violently. I stepped closer, extending my fingers toward the floating sphere.
The instant my skin touched the perimeter, a violent shockwave tore through the air. A surge of protective force slammed into my hand, scattering golden sparks and throwing my arm back.
Pain shot up to my shoulder. The ancient wards flared with blinding brilliance.
I stared at my hand in disbelief. It hadn't recognized me.
Of course it hadn't. The Core had concealed itself under my own desperate royal command, but the ancient security wards surrounding it had been forged to annihilate anyone who dared approach it without authorization.
Even me.
Without absolute proof of my bloodline, I was merely another intruder in the eyes of my ancestors' magic.
I grit my teeth and pressed my hand forward a second time. The ward struck back harder, a sharp crack of magical voltage searing my palm. I pulled back, nursing my burnt fingers.
"Fine," I rasped, glaring into the blinding golden orb. "If you want proof, I'll give it to you."
I took three measured steps backward into the center of the chamber.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I prepared myself. Removing my heavy dark coat, I let it fall to the icy stone floor.
H
The transformation came naturally, ancient instinct awakening in my veins. Liquid gold light spilled across my skin, illuminating the dark vault. My human form fractured. My bones popped and lengthened in rapid succession. My legs fused together, stretching outward as my skin hardened beneath thick layers of iridescent, dark blue scales.
A heartbeat later, my massive serpent's tail coiled across the cavern floor, heavy and majestic.
I lowered my head, staring at the golden reflection of my true form in the slate. This was the shape of my ancestors. The form of my lineage.
And somewhere among those hardened scales lay what I needed.
I reached up toward my left shoulder. Embedded near the joint was a single scale, noticeably smaller than the rest, carrying a faint, unmistakable golden shimmer beneath its surface.
A royal scale.
I pinched the edges, bracing myself, and plucked it free.
Agony flashed through my nerves. A sharp gasp tore from my lungs as rich, glowing crimson blood immediately welled from the wound, spilling over my dark scales.
I held the plucked scale in my open palm, hovering it beneath the bleeding tear in my shoulder. I let my royal blood fall over it.
One heavy drop. Then another.
The moment the blood saturated the scale, it began to blazingly glow.
I set the glowing scale directly onto the stone pedestal beneath the Core and lowered my upper body to the floor. Then, I began to chant.
The words belonged to a tongue forgotten by time—older than my kingdom, older than my father's reign. The dialect of the first naga kings. The ancient words were not a plea; they were an introduction. A declaration of blood, of lineage, and of royal authority.
My voice echoed through the vast cavern like deep thunder.
The golden scale brightened until it was nearly impossible to look at directly. Above it, the Great Core pulsed in response.
Once.
Twice.
The dense, shimmering ward surrounding the orb trembled, its runic lines flickering violently.
I pushed my voice louder, pouring my spirit into the ancient tongue. My blood carried my lineage; my scale carried my raw essence. The ancient words commanded the spirits of my ancestors to witness the divine exchange.
The Core began to answer, pulling toward me,
Then the curse struck.
3
A horrifying, tearing agony ripped through my chest. I gasped, collapsing onto my arms as black magic twisted viciously around my heart. The dark magic sensed the returning wave of my native mana and fought back with animalistic fury. Black, poisonous tendrils crawled beneath my skin, spreading downward toward the bloodied scale on the altar.
I clamped my jaws together and forced myself to keep chanting, though my voice shook violently.
The curse tightened its grip, suffocating my lungs. I dropped one heavy, scaled hand onto the stone floor, fracturing the slate beneath my claws.
"Not now," I growled internally. "Not now!"
The black magic dug deeper, corrupting my veins. My heart thudded in erratic, painful bursts. I could barely draw air.
Yet I kept speaking. The ancient words spilled from my lips, choked and bleeding, but unbroken.
The Core pulsed harder. The protective barrier flickered, hairline fractures spreading across its surface.
Then the curse struck with full, agonizing force.
I screamed, a raw, guttural sound that shook the dust from the ceiling stalactites. The flow of the ritual faltered, nearly snapping entirely.
I clenched my teeth until I tasted copper, forcing the final, harsh syllables of the ancient tongue through the pain. The golden light flared violently. The ward groaned, buckling under the divine weight.
Suddenly, distant footsteps crunched against the stone passageway.
I stopped my chant mid-word, my head whipping toward the archway. "Aiden?"
The sound came again—stumbling, heavy strides echoing down the tunnel.
My heart lurched in my chest.
Arith burst into the chamber, her silver hair disheveled and her breathing ragged. And leaning heavily against her shoulder was Aiden.
My breath caught in my throat.
He was hurt. His clothes were torn, dark ash smudging his jacket, and fresh crimson blood stained his jaw and forehead. He looked exhausted, his knees trembling, barely able to remain upright even with Arith supporting his weight.
In an instant, I forgot the ritual. I forgot the Core.
My tail uncoiled, and I surged across the cavern floor toward them. "Aiden!"
I caught him just as his legs gave out completely, pulling his battered frame securely against my chest.
"What happened?" I demanded, my hands hovering over his face in a blind panic, gently tracing the bruises on his cheek and the cut along his temple.
"I'm okay," he breathed, his voice raspy, his fingers instantly catching the fabric of my shirt.
"You are clearly not okay," I rasped, fear twisting my heart into a tight, agonizing knot.
I should never have left him in the car. I should never have allowed him out of my sight.
Arith stepped forward, pressing a firm hand against my shoulder. "Kael. We don't have time."
I looked up at her, then back toward the pedestal where the Core sat suspended.
She was right. The ancient ward was already beginning to knit itself back together, the cracks closing.
I turned back to Aiden, cupping the side of his bruised face. "Stay here."
His bloodied fingers tightened around mine, refusing to let go. "Get it," he whispered, his eyes burning with quiet, unyielding trust. "Go get your power back."
I squeezed his hand once, hard. "I will."
I turned back to the altar, my golden eyes blazing.
The dark curse inside me rose up again, thrashing wildly to cut off my breath. But before it could lock around my heart, Arith stepped up behind me, slamming both of her glowing palms against the small of my back.
A wave of cool, moonlight-silver light flooded into my body. The moment her magic touched the corrupted tendrils, the curse shrieked and recoiled.
I gasped, pulling in a deep breath. "Hold it!"
"I am trying!" Arith gritted her teeth, her silver mana flaring with blinding intensity as she fought to anchor the dark magic.
I resumed the chant.
The golden scale on the pedestal blazed like a falling star. My blood ignited across its surface in brilliant, golden flames.
The Core answered.
A deep, seismic pulse rattled the bedrock of the entire mountain. The ward surrounding the orb cracked open—huge, jagged fissures running top to bottom. Another pulse echoed, and the ancient protection collapsed entirely, shattering into thousands of golden fragments that rained down like divine sparks.
The Core was completely exposed.
I stared at the pristine, blinding sphere of light. Slowly, I reached forward, my claws extending.
This time, the ancient magic did not strike me.
My fingers closed firmly around the raw, pulsing sphere.
An overwhelming eruption of liquid warmth exploded through my body. Power—pure, unadulterated, divine power—surged through my veins so violently that my knees nearly buckled. Tendrils of darkness from the black magic zwere burned away in a single second. I could feel everything: every vein of quartz in the mountain, every gust of wind outside, every living presence in the valley.
Aiden. Arith.
And—
Something else.
A freezing, pitch-black darkness creeping rapidly down the tunnel.
My eyes snapped open, glowing with a terrifying, incandescent majesty.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps thundered through the stone passage. Too many footsteps.
Arith whipped around, her silver blades instantly igniting in her hands.
A horde of black-robed priests poured through the narrow archway, fanning out along the perimeter of the cavern like a shadow stretching across the floor.
My grip tightened around the Great Core, securing it against my chest.
Then he walked through the threshold.
Eryn.
He glided effortlessly through the sea of his dark vanguard, clad in jagged obsidian armor, moving as if he owned the darkness itself. His pale, violet eyes swept across the grand chamber before landing squarely on mine.
For a long, agonizing moment, neither of us spoke. The silence in the cavern was suffocating.
Then, Eryn's cruel gaze shifted slowly away from me, landing on the space beside Arith.
My blood turned to pure ice.
Two Black Priests had lunged from the shadows, pinning Aiden before he could draw his dagger. Aiden thrashed, trying to throw a elbow into his captor's ribs, but the second priest stepped behind him, yanking his arms brutally behind his back.
A jagged, blackened blade flashed through the dim light, pressing firmly against the pulse point of Aiden's throat.
"Aiden!" I roared, my scaled tail slamming against the stone floor as I slide forward.
Eryn smiled—a cold, sickening curve of his lips.
He glanced briefly at the blinding Great Core pulsing in my palm, then brought his violet eyes back to mine.
"Give me the Core, Kael," Eryn said smoothly, his quiet voice echoing off the high stone ceiling. His smile vanished, replaced by an expression of absolute, deadly malice.
"Or the human dies."