Aria's POV
The body was found at dawn.
Splayed across the stone floor of the eastern wing, eyes wide open, mouth frozen in a final, silent scream. His name was Elder Brom—one of the few council members who had started to support Aria after her trial. His throat was slit so cleanly, it looked like it had been done with a ceremonial blade.
No scent.
No witness.
Only blood.
And a single, crimson rose left on his chest.
The moment Aria saw it, something inside her twisted violently.
"The Rose Assassins," she whispered.
Dorian stiffened. "They're a myth."
"No. They're real. And they work for the old bloodlines—the pureblood witches who stayed hidden after the Eclipse War. My mother warned me about them."
"You think this was a message?"
"I think," she said darkly, "it was a warning."
---
Kael's POV
He heard the news just as he was about to enter the council chamber.
Brom. Dead.
And Aria... already under suspicion.
"Convenient," Mathias muttered as he passed Kael, "that those who oppose her begin to die."
Kael shoved him against the wall before he could think. "Say that again and you won't leave this hall breathing."
Mathias only smirked. "Touchy. You really would kill for her."
Kael let him go. Barely.
But the words stuck in his mind.
Because there was truth in them.
He had killed for Aria.
And it had changed something inside him.
Something ugly.
Something… dangerous.
---
Aria's POV
By nightfall, the tension in Blackstone was a living thing.
Wolves whispered in corners. Mages sealed their rooms. Guards doubled along the battlements. Rumors spread like fire: that the Queen was cursed. That her crown was bought in blood. That more deaths would come.
Aria locked herself in the Eclipse War Room, the only place where ancient magic still thrummed in the walls.
She needed answers.
And she needed them fast.
Her mother's journal had changed again. Now, beneath the warning about the blade, another line had appeared:
"The Eclipse Line was never meant to rule alone."
"What does that mean?" Aria asked aloud. "Who else carries the blood?"
The answer came not in words—but in the quiet knock at the sealed door.
She reached for her fire, ready to strike.
But when the door opened, it wasn't an assassin.
It was a young girl—no older than thirteen, with eyes like molten gold.
"I was sent to you," the girl said, bowing her head. "By the First Flame. The real heir lives."
---
Kael's POV
He hadn't slept.
Not since Kellen.
Not since Aria placed that crown on her head and stared out at the pack like a queen born of fire and vengeance.
He loved her.
He feared her.
And tonight, for the first time, he didn't know if he could protect her from what was coming.
The castle was crawling with political snakes. The death of Brom had split the factions. Some whispered that Aria should step down. Others demanded she be tried in front of the elders again.
Kael walked the halls in silence, gripping the hilt of his sword, knowing the betrayal hadn't yet come—but it was close.
He could feel it, slithering through the walls like poison.
---
Aria's POV — Later that Night
"You're saying my mother… isn't dead?"
The girl nodded. "She was hidden. Her soul, fractured into flame. Preserved in the Temple of the Last Ember."
"That's impossible. I saw her die."
"You saw a memory. A shadow."
Aria backed away. Her magic buzzed wildly. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because the true war hasn't begun yet," the girl said. "And you will need her. You were never meant to fight alone."
Then she placed something in Aria's hand.
A shard of obsidian. Cold to the touch. It glowed with the same light as her fire.
"If you seek the truth, go to the Hollow. On the next eclipse. And bring him."
Kael.
The girl was gone before Aria could ask more.
---
Kael's POV — Final Scene
He found the rose.
Not the one left on Brom's body.
A second one.
Pressed between the pages of a book in his own room.
And beneath it, a note written in blood-inked runes:
"Protect her all you want. But when the moon bleeds, the bond breaks."
Kael burned the note instantly.
But the words were already seared into his soul.
He didn't know who to trust anymore.
He didn't even know if he could trust himself.