My feet move before thought catches up—drawn to her like gravity, like fate itself has fastened me to her shadow. With every step I take, she retreats, breath shallow, chest heaving like she's drowning in air that won't stay in her lungs.
But it's already too late.
The bond is forged. Woven tight. Irrevocable.
The space between us lies to her—it promises distance, safety—but the gods have already tied the thread.
"Stop," she whispers. Her voice cracks around the word, raw and wounded, barely holding itself together. It's not a command. It's a plea.
And I wish I could obey.
"Serephina…" Her name leaves me like a breath I didn't know I was holding. It doesn't even sound like mine, but I say it again—sharper now, like it might anchor her. "You don't understand."
She stiffens, eyes wide—not with fear, not entirely—but with something heavier. Something she's fighting to bury. Defiance flickers behind her gaze, but I see the cracks.
She feels it. The same pull. The same inevitability.
"Don't come any closer," she says, voice steadier, but her hands betray her—shaking, twitching, clenched at her sides. Her back hits the stone wall, cold and unmoving. Still, she tries to put space between us that doesn't exist anymore.
"You don't get it." My voice turns harsh, frustration bleeding into every syllable. "This isn't just a curse, or some twisted prophecy you can ignore. The gods chose this. They chose us. And I can't let you go."
Her breath catches like she's been struck.
But she doesn't break.
She flares.
"Fuck fate," she snaps, fury sharp in her voice. "I never asked for this. I won't be chained to you, Vaelen—not like this."
Her words bite deep. But instead of turning me away, they pull me forward.
"Serephina," I whisper, stepping closer until there's barely a breath between us. "You're not a prisoner. Neither am I. But this pull—it's not desire. It's not choice. It's fate, and it's already dragging us under."
She flinches. Not at me—but at the truth.
"I never wanted any of this," she says again, and this time it's not anger that carries the words. It's grief.
"I know." My voice softens, the fight bleeding out of it. "But we don't have a say anymore. Khorath knew. The gods knew. You were never cursed by accident. You were chosen."
She freezes.
Confusion flickers in her gaze, a question I can see forming behind her silence—but it never gets asked.
Because the world shifts.
The air seizes, thick and wrong, and a pulse of something ancient slams into me. Her power rises like a tide, overwhelming, electric. The atmosphere bends around her. My body responds before my mind can catch up.
Serephina's eyes widen, and I see it—a flicker of recognition. She feels it too.
A chill cuts through the room like a blade. Frost lingers in the air. The warmth bleeds out of the world in an instant.
Her eyes glow.
Faint at first. Then brighter.
Light gathers around her, trembling, as if reality itself can't contain what's waking inside her.
Leaves wither. The ground splits. The earth recoils from her presence. And still, the power grows.
"What is this?" I breathe, more to myself than to her.
My body strains to stay upright, every cell in me screaming. The power isn't just around us—it's inside me now. Draining me. Hollowing me out like I'm being peeled apart from the inside.
"Serephina—" My voice breaks, barely more than a rasp. "What's happening?"
She turns to me, panicked, trembling. "I don't know. I can't stop it."
The words gut me.
Because I believe her.
The energy is shifting again—more volatile now. The static in the air crackles against my skin like a thousand invisible claws. The room dims. Light retracts. Shadows stretch and writhe like they're alive.
"Serephina, listen to me!" I try to reach for her. My hand falters halfway. "You have to stop—"
But she's not fully here. Her eyes are distant, lost somewhere inside the storm building in her chest. Her body glows now—faint tendrils of light crawling across her skin like veins of fire.
Then—
It explodes.
A pulse of raw, unchecked magic rips through the space between us like a shockwave. The floor cracks beneath her feet. Cold air whips outward, cutting into me like shards of ice. I stagger, thrown back by the force of it, barely able to stay conscious.
The shadows scream.
Not in sound—but in feeling.
The power coming from her doesn't just bend reality.
It shatters it.
And suddenly—I understand the truth that's been clawing at the edges of this all along.
She isn't just marked.
She's a vessel.
A harbinger.
And whatever she's carrying inside her—it's only just begun to wake.
"Serephina!" I shout, but I don't know if she hears me. Her lips move. No sound comes out.
The world warps again, and for a split second, I swear I see something move behind her—something vast and ancient and wrong. A flicker of something not meant for this world.
And then—
Silence.
The power vanishes like a flame snuffed out. The shadows still. The earth settles.
We collapse at the same time—me to one knee, her to the floor. Both of us panting, broken open.
She looks at me, eyes wide and glistening with fear. Her voice is barely a whisper.
"What was that?"
I stare at her, everything in me unraveling.
"I don't know," I say.
And it's the truth.
The most terrifying truth I've ever spoken.