The Whisper Beneath Her SkinThe air in Thalenor was still — unnaturally so.Even the wind seemed afraid to breathe.Selene sat at the edge of the marble dais, the faint hum of the runes beneath her feet still resonating through her bones. Adrian lay motionless on the cot beside her, his chest rising and falling with a fragile rhythm that made her count every breath in silent fear.For hours, she hadn’t moved. Her eyes traced the curve of his face, memorizing every detail — the faint scar above his brow, the way his lashes brushed his cheek, the tension that never truly left his jaw even in sleep.He looked human again.But she could feel it — the shadow that coiled beneath his pulse.The Seers had withdrawn to their private chambers, leaving her alone with him. Yet, she could still feel their magic lingering in the air, an invisible weave of protection and warning.“Sleep,” she whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You’ve fought long enough.”But even as she s

The Space Between Their NamesThe rain had not yet stopped when Adrian opened his eyes.The world was gray — too gray — and the first thing he noticed was silence. Not the calm kind that soothes the soul, but the hollow quiet that follows when something vast has been broken.He lay on the wet stones of the courtyard, the storm whispering around him like a half-forgotten prayer. His breath came slow, uneven. His body felt heavier than it should — as though gravity had been rewritten for him alone. The ash still clung to his clothes, but beneath it, faint veins of light pulsed through his skin. He could feel it moving, slow and rhythmic, as if his blood had learned a new song.“Adrian.”The voice was soft — uncertain.He turned his head. Selene stood a few paces away, her cloak torn, her hair clinging to her face in dark ribbons. The mark along her collarbone burned faintly violet, pulsing in time with his own veins of light. She didn’t speak again. Neither did he. They only stared

When the Master SpeaksThe dawn came gray, stretched thin across the mountains. Selene had ridden until the night began to unravel, until the mist broke apart into ribbons of light. The silence of the world felt wrong — too hollow, too complete — as if something had taken a deep breath and forgotten to exhale.She dismounted at the crest of a hill overlooking Veyne’s outer valley. The town still slept, wrapped in smoke and fog, roofs glinting faintly beneath the dull sunrise. But as she watched, she felt it — that pulse again. Slow. Ancient. Familiar.The Master was awake.Selene’s fingers tightened around the reins. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she whispered to the wind. “Not yet.”No answer came. Only a faint hum, like distant thunder buried in the soil.When she entered the town, the people were already gathering. Bakers setting dough, blacksmiths kindling fires — all normal. Too normal. But something about their movements made her stop.A woman sweeping her doorway looked

The Voice Beneath the StormThe first thing Adrian felt was weight — not of stone, but of silence.He opened his eyes to a sky that no longer recognized itself. The clouds above Veyne churned like smoke through fractured glass, split by veins of crimson light that moved as if alive. The air smelled of rain and metal, of something holy dying slowly.He tried to move, and the world answered with thunder.The ground beneath him cracked in a ring, light seeping through the fissures — not fire, not magma, but something older, something that hummed in harmony with his pulse. He pushed himself to his knees, breath catching as he realized he was in the ruins of the cathedral — or what was left of it. The spires were gone, replaced by shards of stone suspended midair, circling him like slow, patient predators.His hands shook. They were no longer entirely his.Faint lines of light, dark silver like moonlit blood, traced from his fingertips to his forearms, pulsing with every heartbeat. Th

The Storm in Her VeinsThe first rumble reached her long before the lightning did.Selene had been standing on the monastery’s terrace, overlooking the frozen ridge, when the horizon began to pulse — a slow, rhythmic flicker, like a heartbeat buried under miles of cloud. For a moment, she thought it was just the coming rain. But then her chest tightened.No — it wasn’t rain. It was him.Her fingers dug into the stone rail. The bond, the thread she thought she’d buried under layers of will and silence, snapped awake like a wild thing. It surged through her veins, burning cold and hot all at once.The air thickened. The world dimmed. And suddenly, the whisper of his name echoed through every nerve.Adrian.She felt him before she saw him — a pull behind her ribs, primal and unstoppable. The wind shifted, carrying the scent of ozone and scorched metal. Somewhere deep inside her, a familiar voice — his voice — murmured words that made no sense but felt like goodbye.Her pulse quickened.