The halls of the Watcher Council's inner sanctum were cold, echoing with footsteps that seemed louder than they should be. Obsidian stone walls stretched high, carved with symbols of power and authority older than memory. The air hummed with the latent energy of the Watchers — silent, eternal, and unyielding.
Velaria moved through it all like a shadow meant to be there, but her mind was ablaze. Every step she took felt heavier than the last. The corridors, usually a place of calm discipline, now felt suffocating.
Aiden…
The thought alone made her stomach twist. For centuries, she had built herself into the perfect Watcher — disciplined, precise, untouchable. Every word, every gesture, every display of loyalty had been carefully honed to earn recognition, perhaps even favor, from him. And now… he was slipping away. Into the grasp of a mortal girl.
Velaria's golden eyes flickered with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and longing. Elena. The name tasted bitter on her tongue. A human. Weak, fragile, and utterly unworthy of what Aiden represented.
She paused at the edge of a high balcony overlooking the central chamber of the Council, where Aiden's presence radiated even in his silence. He leaned against the rail, his sharp, silver-flecked eyes staring into nothing, as if the mortal world had nothing to offer him.
Velaria's pulse quickened. She had approached him once before in private, subtle inquiries masked as guidance. He had nodded politely, listened patiently. But today, she could not afford subtlety. Today, she needed to act.
Her boots clicked against the stone floor as she stepped forward. The echo felt like thunder in her ears. Aiden turned slightly, sensing her presence immediately.
"Velaria," he said, voice calm but measured. "What brings you here at this hour?"
She smiled, a flash of steel beneath beauty. "You are… distracted."
Aiden's gaze sharpened. "Distracted?"
"Yes," she said, moving closer. "You've been… inattentive. Unusual for you." Her tone was soft, but every word was loaded. "The Council notices. I notice."
Aiden's lips twitched slightly, but he did not speak. He had always known how to remain composed in the presence of strong Watchers. But Velaria had underestimated the depth of his current preoccupation.
"I need to speak with you," she continued, stepping closer until they stood within inches of each other. "About Elena."
The name barely left her lips before she regretted it. But the damage was done. Aiden's body shifted slightly, subtle tension in the shoulders, a tightening of the jaw.
"About her?" His voice was steady, but the weight behind it suggested more than politeness.
"Yes," Velaria breathed, choosing her words carefully. "You cannot… let this continue. She is not one of us. She is not marked. She is mortal, fragile, incapable of understanding the balance, incapable of grasping what it means to live under the weight of… what we are."
Aiden's expression did not change, but the tension between them was palpable. He did not raise his voice. He did not move. And that, more than any anger, made her blood boil.
"She has drawn you in," Velaria said, almost softly now, almost pleading. "You are falling. And I cannot—will not—stand by and watch you destroy yourself for… for someone who cannot even perceive the world you protect."
Aiden tilted his head slightly, as if considering her words. "And yet," he said carefully, "you speak to me now, Velaria. You have wanted my attention for… how long?"
Velaria's eyes flared, but she did not falter. "This is different," she said. "I never sought… this. I have given myself to the Council, to our duties, to you. I have waited for centuries to be considered worthy. And now you—" She broke off, frustration searing her voice. "—you are… distracted by a girl."
"Distracted?" he repeated, a faint smirk threatening the edge of his lips. "You mean alive. Real. Fragile, yes. Human, yes. But… present. She is not a shadow, Velaria. She is… luminous in ways that even I did not expect. She moves in ways I cannot ignore."
Velaria's pulse surged. She could feel it—every pulse of energy, every small flicker of Aiden's presence. His words, calm but deliberate, were a knife in her chest.
"You speak as though that excuses your failure," she hissed. "You are Aiden Myrren. You are Watcher first. Not lover. Not… fool. She is not worthy of you."
Aiden's gaze softened slightly, but there was no warmth for her in it. "Worth is not measured in lineage, discipline, or strength alone," he said. "It is measured by… resonance. By connection. By what shakes the soul when touched by another."
Velaria's golden eyes narrowed. "Connection?" she spat. "You could feel connection with anyone. Why her?"
"Because she is not anyone," he replied evenly. "She is not a shadow. She is not… a ghost like the others I have been assigned to watch. She is… present. Alive. And she is mine to protect."
Velaria's chest tightened. The words "mine to protect" burned her like fire. She had spent decades preparing herself for this, refining every gesture, every word, every glance, to capture his attention. And yet here he was… bound, compelled, and already leaning toward Elena.
"You are making a mistake," Velaria whispered, softer now, almost desperate. "If you follow this path, you will be vulnerable. She will draw you into realms you do not yet understand. The Council will see your attachment. You will… endanger everything you are meant to uphold."
Aiden's expression darkened for the briefest of moments, then cleared. "And yet," he said, voice low, resonant, "I would rather risk everything than leave her unprotected. She is… important."
Velaria's hands clenched into fists at her sides. Every instinct screamed at her to push him, to remind him of duty, to remind him of who he had always been. But there was no room for doubt — she could see the truth in his eyes. It was already too late. He had chosen, in a way she could not sway.
"You do not understand," she said finally, the edge of her voice trembling. "I have done everything to be worthy of you. I have trained. I have waited. And for centuries I have been by your side. And yet… a mortal girl—"
"She is not just mortal," Aiden interrupted, his voice firm now. "She has strength you cannot measure, Velaria. And she has touched something within me that no one—no one—ever has."
Velaria took a sharp breath, stepping back. Her composure remained outwardly intact, but the storm inside her was violent. She had failed. And yet… she would not bow completely. Not yet.
"If you truly follow this path," she said, her voice icy now, "then remember this: the Council watches. The rules are not broken lightly. And if you fall—if you truly allow yourself to fall—you will not only bring ruin upon yourself, but upon her as well."
Aiden nodded slowly. "I am aware."
Velaria's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, gold meeting silver-flecked grey. And then she turned, moving down the corridor with the quiet, predatory grace she had always possessed. Her mind churned with plans. She would not give up—not yet.
Because if she could not have him by devotion and duty, she would ensure that no one—no mortal, no Watcher, no girl—could take him from what she believed was rightfully his.
As her figure disappeared into the shadows, Aiden remained at the balcony, staring after her. The tension in the air was thick, the energy of unspoken words lingering. But his attention had already shifted. Already, it was elsewhere.
Elena's image swirled in his mind, soft and warm and maddeningly human. Her laughter. Her reckless bravery. Her presence that tugged at something primal and ancient within him.
Velaria's warnings echoed faintly in his mind, but he did not care. She could threaten, she could scold, she could try to sway him with logic, history, and the weight of the Council itself.
But Elena was… different.
And Aiden had always known that once he recognized a presence like hers, nothing—not centuries of discipline, not endless rules, not even the jealous machinations of another Watcher—could sway him from protecting her.
He closed his eyes, letting the quiet pulse of the Council surround him, the weight of centuries pressing down, and he smiled faintly, just a ghost of a smile.
Let her try.
Because no scheme, no jealousy, and no rule would change the fact that she had already stolen something he would never give back.
And in that moment, the hallways of the Council seemed a little colder, a little darker… but alive with the unspoken promise that some lines, once crossed, could never be uncrossed.
Aiden turned from the balcony, stepping back into the shadows of the Council, and the first spark of defiance stirred.
A mortal girl had set a Watcher's world on fire.
And there was nothing anyone—including Velaria—could do to stop it.