Power is not given—it is claimed, and sometimes, it chooses you before you even realize it.
Dawn broke over the city, but its golden light did little to reach Lyra. She sat cross-legged on the floor of a small, dim safehouse, fingers tracing the faint burn on her palms where the blood rune had branded her. Every nerve thrummed with residual energy—alive, volatile, and terrifying. The fire had dimmed, but its echo still raced through her veins, making her heart pound in chaotic rhythm.
Across from her, Kael Darrion observed silently, his posture perfect, hands resting lightly on his knees. His violet eyes never left her, sharp, intense, and calculating. She had survived storms, chases, and urban decay—but nothing had prepared her for this raw, intimate tension. She wanted to flee, but something invisible held her in place.
"You're exhausted," Kael said finally, voice low, measured, carrying a dangerous undertone. "And frightened. Good. Magic like yours… is lethal when uncontrolled."
"I… I don't even know what I did," Lyra whispered, voice hoarse. "One moment, I was chasing a story. The next… there was fire, a portal, and you—some kind of… nightmare prince? Why me?"
Kael's lips twitched into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "Why anyone? Fate chooses who it binds." He leaned forward slightly, elbows on knees. "You touched the blood rune. That bond—what you feel—goes deeper than you can comprehend. You feel it, don't you?"
Lyra swallowed hard. She did feel it: a tether invisible yet unyielding, pulling her toward him in a way that made her skin ache. Every instinct screamed to resist, yet every fiber of her being was hyperaware, drawn.
"I don't want to be bound to anyone," she said, though a tremor betrayed her fear. "Least of all… you."
For a fleeting second, Kael's gaze softened, hinting at a vulnerability she had never seen. Then it hardened again, sharp and commanding. "You must learn control. Blood runes don't forgive mistakes. There are those who will come for you… for us. If your magic flares uncontrolled, you die. I die. And the consequences… catastrophic."
Lyra's chest tightened. She had always thought danger was something to observe, analyze, and write about from a safe distance. But this—this was personal. Intimate. She couldn't escape. Not now. Not ever.
Kael rose abruptly, moving to a small, ancient chest in the corner. The wood was carved with intricate symbols, worn smooth from years of handling. From it, he withdrew a silver band etched with delicate runes. "This will help stabilize your magic," he said, holding it toward her. "Wear it, or the bond will tear you apart before you even realize it."
Lyra hesitated. Her instincts screamed to refuse, to fight for control. Yet the band called to her—familiar, warm, dangerous. Trembling, she reached out and allowed him to slip it onto her wrist. The moment it touched her skin, calm spread through her veins. The fire dimmed. Her heartbeat, thoughts, and body aligned.
Kael's eyes studied her, unreadable. "This is temporary. Discipline. Emotion. Control. All must be learned."
"Emotion?" she asked, frowning.
He nodded. "Magic feeds on it. Fear, rage, desire… everything. You cannot suppress it forever. You must wield it, or it will wield you."
Lyra shivered. She had always prided herself on control, on rationality. But this was beyond comprehension. Yet a part of her burned with exhilaration. Something deep had awakened—something powerful, something dangerous.
"I don't understand any of this," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
Kael stepped closer. His presence was overwhelming, inescapable. "You will. Or you'll die trying." His violet eyes held hers, unflinching, unyielding. "Do you understand?"
"Yes," she said, though the word felt hollow.
The room stretched in silence, heavy and charged. Lyra's mind raced. She was supposed to fear him. She did. But the pull, the electricity lingering when he was near, terrified her more than any magic.
A soft knock on the door startled her. She jumped. Kael's hand moved lightning-fast. A dagger appeared in his grasp. He scanned the shadows, every movement precise, fluid, deadly.
Lyra froze, realizing how unprepared she truly was for this world. Danger was no longer abstract—it was here, real, immediate.
The door creaked open. A small figure slipped inside—a young woman, bright-eyed, carrying herbs and vials. "Mira," Lyra breathed, relief washing over her.
Her best friend, her anchor, her lifeline to the normal world, was here. But even Mira's familiar presence couldn't erase the tension, the residual magic, or the raw danger that Kael exuded.
"Mira!" Lyra rushed forward, heart hammering.
Mira froze, eyes darting to Kael. "You're… him."
Kael inclined his head slightly. "I am Kael Darrion. And you are?"
"Mira Solen. Lyra's friend," she said quickly, adding, "Do I even want to know what's going on?"
"You don't," Kael said lightly, though every word carried unspoken weight.
Mira's gaze turned to Lyra. "You look… different. Tired. Scared. What happened?"
Lyra hesitated, then told the story as best she could—the portal, the rune, the surge, Kael's sudden appearance. Mira's eyes widened with each word, lips parted in shock.
"You're… a mage?" Mira stammered.
"I don't even know. I just… touched something. Now I'm bound to him. He says I could die if I don't learn control."
Mira stepped forward, gripping Lyra's shoulder. "Then we'll figure it out. Together."
Kael's eyes flicked between the two, then back to the window. His posture stiffened. "You've been marked," he said, voice calm but deadly. "Someone knows about the blood rune. Someone is hunting you."
Lyra's stomach sank. "Hunting me? Why?"
Kael's gaze met hers, stripped of his usual mask. "Because your power is rare. Because the bond makes you dangerous. Because the wrong hands will use you as a weapon… and we cannot allow that."
The shadow outside shifted again. Lyra realized the truth for the first time: she wasn't running for a story. She was running for her life.
Mira's fists clenched. "Then we fight. You're not alone."
Kael's eyes flicked from Mira to Lyra. "Fight wisely. Magic has rules you do not yet understand. One misstep… one uncontrolled flare…"
Lyra looked down at her hands. The faint warmth of magic lingered, pulsing beneath her skin. Her bond to Kael tugged at her. She understood now that her life had irrevocably changed. And she wasn't sure she wanted it to go back.
To survive… and understand him… she would have to embrace the fire within.