Elara's POV
I stare at the mysterious note, then at the figure on the distant balcony.
Before I can decide what to do, the figure vanishes into shadows.
Hello? I call out the window, but only silence answers.
My heart races. Who left this note? How did they get into my locked room? And what prophecy are they talking about?
The last light-blood.
That's what the note called me. The same words the Dark King's shadows whispered when I arrived.
I need answers. But I'm locked in a tower with a shadow wolf guarding my door.
I pace the room, mind spinning, until exhaustion finally pulls me toward the bed. I collapse onto it, still wearing the white tribute robes, and fall into uneasy sleep.
Day One
I wake to Nyx's rumbling voice.
Breakfast.
The shadow wolf materializes through the wall literally through the solid stone carrying a tray in his massive jaws. He sets it on the table beside my bed.
You can walk through walls? I ask, sitting up.
I'm made of shadows. Walls are irrelevant. His silver eyes study me. You should be dying by now.
Sorry to disappoint.
On the contrary. Nyx tilts his head, almost like a real dog. You're the most interesting tribute in five hundred years. Most spend their first day crying. You spent it sleeping.
I was tired from being dragged through a forest and thrown into another world.
Fair point. He watches me eat bread, cheese, fruit that tastes sweeter than anything from my world. The Dark King wants to know how you feel. Any weakness? Dizziness? Pain?
I feel fine. Actually, I feel better than fine. Stronger somehow. Why does he care?
Because you're not dying, and he wants to know why. Nyx's tail swishes. Also because despite five hundred years of isolation, he's not completely heartless. He hates watching tributes die.
Something about the way Nyx says it makes me see Kaelen differently. Not as a monster who kills tributes, but as a prisoner of his own curse, forced to watch people die over and over.
How many has he watched die? I ask quietly.
Thousands. Nyx's voice is heavy. And every single death destroys him a little more.
Day Two
I wake feeling energized. Not just normal energy power thrums under my skin like electricity.
When Nyx brings breakfast, I notice something strange.
The shadows on the walls aren't random anymore. They form patterns. Shapes. Almost like... writing.
Do you see that? I point to the wall.
Nyx looks. See what?
The shadows. They're making patterns.
The wolf studies the wall for a long moment. I see only ordinary shadows.
But they're not ordinary. As I watch, they shift and change, forming symbols I somehow understand even though I've never seen them before.
Growing stronger, the shadows whisper. Light awakening.
Did you hear that? My voice shakes.
Hear what?
The shadows are talking to me. Only to me.
I spend the day watching them, learning to read their patterns. They tell me things about the citadel, about the curse, about power sleeping inside me.
When Nyx brings dinner, he stops and stares at me.
What? I ask.
You're glowing.
I look down. Faint silver light shimmers beneath my skin, just like after I touched Kaelen.
Is that bad?
I don't know. Nyx sounds worried. But I'm telling the Dark King.
Day Three
I wake to find I'm not alone.
An old man sits in a chair by my window, reading a book. He looks ancient wrinkled skin, white hair, but sharp intelligent eyes.
I bolt upright. Who are you? How did you get in here?
Seris. He closes the book calmly. I'm the citadel's scholar. The only other living being besides Kaelen who survived the curse's beginning. And I walked through the door Nyx left it unlocked.
Why?
Because you're not a normal tribute, and we both know it. Seris sets down his book. You should be dead. Instead, you're reading shadow-script and glowing with light magic. Fascinating.
You can see the patterns too?
No. But I can see the power growing in you. He leans forward. Tell me, child what do you know about your mother's family?
Not much. She never talked about them.
That's because they were light priestesses. An ancient order that wielded magic to fight darkness. Seris watches my reaction carefully. Five hundred years ago, they created the curse that binds Kaelen. They sacrificed themselves to do it, and their bloodline was supposed to end.
My mouth goes dry. But I'm here.
Yes. You're the last light-blood. The final descendant of the priestesses who cursed the Dark King. He pauses. Which means you're either his salvation or his destruction.
Before I can respond, Nyx bursts through the wall.
Seris! The Dark King is calling for you. Something's wrong with the curse it's destabilizing.
The old man hurries out, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.
I'm descended from the people who cursed Kaelen? That's why his curse doesn't kill me because I carry the same magic that created it?
The shadows on the wall writhe faster, forming new words:
Find him. He needs you. Follow the dark path.
I look around the room, confused. What dark path?
Then I see it.
In the corner where the shadows are deepest, they're moving differently. Pulling away to reveal something behind them.
A passage. Made entirely of darkness.
My heart pounds. I should stay here. Stay safe.
But Seris said the curse is destabilizing. And something tells me that's very, very bad.
I take a deep breath and step into the shadow passage.
The darkness swallows me, but it doesn't feel threatening. It feels... welcoming. Like it's been waiting for me.
The shadows guide me through the citadel's secret ways, twisting and turning through walls and floors. I can't see anything except the path of slightly lighter darkness ahead.
After what feels like hours but might be minutes, the passage opens.
I stumble out into a private chamber massive bed, windows overlooking the twilight realm, shelves of books and strange magical objects.
Kaelen's room.
He stands at the window, back to me. But something's wrong.
His curse marks are going crazy writhing violently across his skin, glowing so bright they light up the entire room. His hands grip the window frame so hard the stone cracks under his fingers.
He's in pain. Terrible pain.
You should be dead, he says without turning around. His voice is strained, barely controlled.
I seem to be disappointing everyone with that, I manage.
Disappointing? He laughs, but it sounds broken. You're terrifying. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?
I don't know what you mean.
Three days. He finally turns, and I gasp. His silver eyes are burning with light, tears streaming down his face. Three days you've been here, and the curse is changing. It's never changed. Not in five hundred years. But now it's rewriting itself, and I don't know if it's trying to kill me or
He stops, doubling over in pain. The curse marks flare so bright I have to shield my eyes.
Without thinking, I run to him.
Don't! He tries to push me away, but I grab his hands.
The moment our skin touches, the world explodes.
Light and darkness erupt from where we're connected, swirling together in a tornado of power. The windows shatter. Books fly from shelves. The entire room shakes.
But the curse marks on Kaelen's skin... stop writhing.
They go still. Calm. Peaceful.
For the first time in five hundred years.
Kaelen stares at me, his silver eyes wide with shock and wonder and something that might be hope.
What are you doing? he whispers.
I don't know. Tears run down my face because I can feel his pain centuries of agony flowing through our connection. But I can't let go.
You have to. You'll burn yourself out.
No.
Ancient symbols appear on both our arms glowing marks that weren't there before. They spiral up our skin, binding us together.
Magic I don't understand activates on its own, recognizing us as a matched pair.
No, Kaelen breathes in horror. No, this can't happen. The binding ritual it's activating. We're being
The magic flares one final time, sealing the marks into our skin permanently.
When the light fades, we're still holding hands.
Still connected.
And I can feel him. Not just his pain his emotions, his thoughts, his very soul intertwined with mine.
What have you done? Kaelen's voice breaks.
I saved you.
You've bound yourself to me. His face twists with anguish. Forever. Do you understand? The magic just made you my mate. You can never leave. You can never be free. And when the curse finally kills you, I'll feel every second of your death through this bond.
The weight of what just happened crashes down on me.
I'm magically bound to the Dark King.
For the rest of my life.