Liora's POV
The shadows spit us out on the edge of a cliff.
I hit the ground hard, my stomach lurching like I just fell from the sky. Everything spins. My chest burns where the mark is still glowing under my torn dress.
And I can feel him.
Not just his physical presence standing a few feet away. I can feel his emotions flooding through me like a river I didn't ask to swim in. Rage. Pain. Confusion. And underneath it all—something that feels like hope wrapped in barbed wire, like he's terrified to want anything.
"What did you do to me?" I gasp, clutching my chest.
Ashuron—the Prince of Night, the monster from every story—turns to face me. His golden eyes are burning bright, no longer dim with dying. He looks powerful now. Dangerous. Like a sleeping dragon that just woke up hungry.
"I didn't do anything," he says, and his voice is sharp enough to cut. "You're the one who touched me. You activated the bond."
"I was trying to help you!"
"Congratulations. You helped us both into a curse worse than death." He stalks toward me, moving like a hunting cat. Every step is graceful and threatening. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
I scramble backward until my back hits rock. "You said it's a soul-bond. That we're connected. So what? We'll just—we'll find someone to break it!"
His laugh is bitter and beautiful at the same time. "There is no breaking it, little star. Soul-bonds are permanent. Forever. If you die, I return to that cursed prison. If I die, you die with me. We're stuck together whether we like it or not."
The words slam into me like a fist. Forever? Tied to this stranger? This enemy?
Through the bond, I feel his emotions shift. His anger dims, replaced by something that feels like resignation. Like he's been fighting fate for three hundred years and just realized he lost.
"This can't be real," I whisper. "I don't even know you."
"You know enough." He crouches down in front of me, close enough that I can see the gold flecks in his eyes shift like living fire. "Your people tried to kill mine. My people tried to kill yours. Now we're bound together by magic older than either of our kingdoms. The universe has a sick sense of humor."
"My people didn't try to kill anyone!" The anger bursts out of me before I can stop it. "My people were slaughtered! They burned my mother alive when I was ten years old! Don't you dare act like we're the same!"
Something flickers across his face. Through the bond, I feel it—genuine surprise mixed with something that might be sympathy.
"Your mother was killed when you were ten?" His voice is softer now, less sharp.
"By the false Lightborn. The ones wearing stolen magic like they have any right to it." Tears burn my eyes, but I won't let them fall. Not in front of him. "They took everything from me. My family. My home. My name. I've been hiding for thirteen years, pretending to be nobody, carving binding runes into my own skin every month just to survive."
I expect him to mock me. To say I'm weak or pathetic.
Instead, he sits down heavily, like his legs just gave out. "They told me all the true Lightborn were dead. That we'd won the war."
"What war?" I demand. "What are you talking about?"
He looks at me with eyes that have seen too much pain. "The war I supposedly started. The one where I went mad with power and slaughtered your people in a fit of rage." His smile is sharp and broken. "That's what the history books say, isn't it? That Ashuron Nightborne, the Prince of Shadows, destroyed the Lightborn civilization in one terrible night?"
I nod slowly. That's exactly what the stories say.
"All lies," he says quietly. "Every single word."
Before I can respond, his head snaps up. His whole body goes tense, predator instincts on full alert.
"They're coming," he growls. "Your hunters. They're closer than I thought."
Through the trees below, I hear them. Dogs barking. Men shouting. Torches flickering in the darkness.
"How many can you sense?" I ask.
He closes his eyes, and I feel his power spread out through the shadows like invisible fingers. "Twenty soldiers. Hunting hounds. And someone stronger—someone with magic. Your sister, I think."
My blood turns to ice. "Celeste is with them?"
"The one who betrayed you?" Ashuron's eyes snap open, burning with fury that isn't entirely his own. Through the bond, I realize some of it is coming from me. My rage is bleeding into him, and his into me. "She's leading them straight to us."
Of course she is. Celeste wouldn't miss the chance to watch me die.
"We need to run," I say, trying to stand. My legs shake.
"Run where?" Ashuron asks. "You're glowing like a beacon. They can track you anywhere. And I'm not exactly subtle either." He gestures at himself, and I notice the shadows gathering around him like living smoke. "We're both walking targets now."
"Then what do we do?"
He studies me for a long moment, his golden eyes intense. Through the bond, I feel him making a decision. Feel him choosing something dangerous.
"We fight," he says simply.
"I don't know how to fight! I'm not a warrior!"
"No." He stands, offering me his hand. "But you're Lightborn. True Lightborn. And I just spent three hundred years learning how to survive impossible situations." His smile is sharp and dangerous. "Besides, little star, you and I are connected now. Your power and mine—light and shadow. Do you know what happens when they work together?"
I don't. I shake my head.
"Neither do I," he admits. "But I'm willing to find out if you are."
The hunting horns blow closer. I can hear Celeste's voice now, shouting orders.
I look at Ashuron's offered hand. This man who's supposed to be my enemy. This monster from legends who might be the only chance I have at surviving.
Through the bond, I feel something shift between us. An understanding. We're both survivors. We've both lost everything. We're both tired of running.
I take his hand.
The moment our fingers touch, power explodes between us. My light and his shadows twist together like braided rope, like dance partners who've been waiting centuries to meet.
It feels right. It feels perfect.
It feels absolutely terrifying.
"Good choice," Ashuron says, and for the first time, his smile looks almost genuine. "Now let's show them what happens when you corner a prince who's been dying for three hundred years."
He pulls me closer, his arm wrapping around my waist. Shadows gather around us both, thick and cold and protective.
"Hold tight, little star," he whispers against my ear. "This is going to hurt."
The shadows explode outward just as the hunters burst into the clearing.
But they're not alone.
Standing at the front of the group, glowing with stolen light, is Celeste. And beside her, wrapped in chains identical to the ones that held Ashuron, is another prisoner.
My heart stops.
Because the prisoner has my mother's face.
"Hello, little sister," Celeste calls out sweetly. "I have someone who's very eager to see you. She's been waiting thirteen years for this reunion."
The woman in chains raises her head, and her eyes—silver like mine—lock onto me with desperate hope.
"Liora?" she whispers.
My mother. Who I watched burn. Who I mourned for thirteen years.
She's alive.