The weight of the stone pressed against Raine's mind, an invisible hand tightening around his ribs. He couldn't look away.
It wasn't glowing. It wasn't even pulsing. But somehow, it moved—not physically, but deeper, beyond sight or touch. It slithered beneath his thoughts like an eel in black water, coiling around his fear, his doubt, his very sense of self.
The figure in the hood remained still.
Waiting.
Watching.
This is a dream. It has to be.
But his wound still burned. His breath still hitched with each inhale. The darkness around him was too thick, the silence too deep.
This was real.
And it was wrong.
Raine clenched his jaw, shaking his head. No. I don't want this. I don't want any of this.
The figure tilted its head, the hood shifting slightly.
"Want?" The voice, smooth and low, curled in his ears. "What you want does not matter, Shadowborn."
Raine took a step back.
No.
No.
He wasn't going to let this thing—this thing—decide who he was.
"I don't know what you think I am," he said, voice hoarse, "but I'm not playing your game. So either say what you came here to say or let me go."
For a long, frozen moment, there was no response. The room held its breath.
Then,
Laughter.
Low. Soft.
Wrong.
"Let you go?" The hooded figure's voice curved around the words like a blade slipping beneath skin. "You were never free to begin with."
The shadows lurched.
The stone screamed.
Raine fell.
The world shattered.
Or maybe he did.
For a moment, there was nothing. No sound. No air. Just a vast and endless void, swallowing everything that he was.
Then—
A flash.
Images, flickering too fast for his mind to hold onto.
A throne of blackened bone.
A sword dripping with starlight.
A girl, standing in the snow, her eyes dark with something he couldn't name.
And blood.
So much blood.
He gasped, the visions ripping away as quickly as they had come.
His back hit stone, hard.
He was outside.
The air was cold, the scent of rain thick in his lungs. His hands scrambled against the ground, finding rough cobblestone beneath his fingertips.
The door—the hooded figure—the stone—
Gone.
Had he imagined it?
No.
Because the wound on his shoulder still throbbed. And in his palm—
The stone was there.
Small. Cold. Blacker than night.
Raine cursed, shoving it into his pocket like it might burn him.
His heart pounded. He was shaking.
None of this made sense.
But he didn't have time to understand.
Because he was being watched.
Slowly, he turned his head.
A figure stood at the mouth of the alley.
Not cloaked in shadow. Not monstrous.
A man.
His hair was dark, but he wore a mask of silver that caught the moonlight, and his clothes were stitched with patterns Raine had never seen before. he was young—maybe his age, maybe a little older—but his eyes…
His eyes were ancient.
And they were locked onto him.
Raine swallowed, shifting onto his feet. His muscles still ached from whatever had just happened, but he ignored it.
"Who are you?" he asked.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stepped closer, slowly, his boots making no sound on the wet stone.
"You shouldn't have that," he murmured. Her voice was calm, but underneath it was something sharp.
Raine's hand instinctively moved to his pocket.
he saw.
His expression darkened.
"You don't know what you're carrying, do you?"
Raine clenched his teeth.
He was tired of this. Tired of riddles. Tired of people speaking to him like he was a puzzle they had already solved.
"Then why don't you tell me?" he snapped.
The man hesitated.
Then, finally—
"Because if you knew," she said softly, "you'd be terrified."
Something in the way she said it sent a shiver down his spine.
But Raine didn't back down.
"If you're trying to scare me, you'll have to do better than that."
His lips curved. Not a smile. Something colder.
"I'm not trying to scare you," he murmured. "I'm trying to warn you."
His gaze flickered to his shoulder—the wound hidden beneath his shirt.
"You're already changing," he said.
Raine stiffened.
He stepped closer, his voice lowering.
"How long has it been hurting?"
He didn't answer.
But he saw the truth in his silence.
His expression shifted. Just slightly. A flicker of something Raine couldn't quite name.
Then,, so quietly he almost didn't hear it—
"I can help you."
The words dug into him, sharp and unexpected.
Raine swallowed.
This man—whoever he was—was dangerous.
But so was he.
And for the first time in a long, long while…
He wasn't sure if he could fight this alone.