Elantra:
The room was still.
But not silent.
I could hear it now, beneath the silence. That soft, invisible hum. Not from the walls. Not from the lights. From within the palace itself. Like it was breathing. Listening.
Riven was gone. He'd slipped out with a single look over his shoulder and a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He hadn't said another word after I told him one of them might kill me.
He didn't need to.
His silence said enough.
I stood alone now, the fire in my suite crackling low, casting amber across the stone. The system hadn't spoken again. The mark on my chest was quiet. But I could still feel the bond lines, three threads pulling at different parts of me. None of them gentle.
Cassian's thread was warm, like sunlight filtered through stained glass.
Lucien's was sharp. Cold. An unspoken dare.
Riven's was wild. Flickering and hot and erratic like lightning hunting for a place to land.
They were all pulling. Harder now. As if sensing that something had shifted in me.
Because something had.
The dream… the warning… the whisper of my own death tangled in prophecy…
I could no longer pretend I was just caught in something bigger than me.
I was at the center of it.
I dressed in silence, choosing a plain tunic and soft black trousers. No silks. No gowns. No golden trappings of the "honored guest."
I was no one's pet to parade.
Outside my door, the halls were empty, but too clean. Too quiet. The moment I stepped out, I felt it again.
The eyes.
Hidden behind enchanted portraits. Veiled by charmstones in the walls. Trained guards pretending to be idle. I could feel their gazes following me.
I wasn't a guest here.
I was a variable. A threat.
And someone was watching to see if I'd break.
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The secret Watchers:
The figure leaned back from the scrying mirror, brows furrowed, fingers laced.
"She's stabilizing faster than expected," came a voice behind the curtain.
"She's also seeing too much. The dreamscape is activating prematurely."
"She's not ready for truth. We haven't unlocked the last tier."
"She won't need to survive all three bonds," the first voice said coldly. "Just enough to choose."
"And if she chooses wrong?"
There was a pause.
Then a whisper:
"Then she dies. And everything resets."
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Back to Elantra:
The main hall echoed with silence as I walked toward the east wing. It wasn't by accident. The system had flickered just once an hour ago, pinging a spike in Cassian's bond. A pulse of warmth and calm had rolled through me.
He was here.
I turned the corner and froze.
Cassian stood at the far end of the hallway, leaning against the window frame, sleeves rolled to his elbows, sunlight pouring over his face.
He didn't look like royalty right now. He looked like a man thinking about escape. He looked strikingly handsome just peaking down through the window.
I wondered what or who he was searching for with such intensity.
He turned the moment I approached.
"You felt it too," he said.
I nodded. "The pulse. It was you."
His eyes dropped to my chest, not in lust, but in curiosity.
"You're syncing too fast," he murmured. "The system shouldn't be pulling this hard."
I swallowed. "Is that… bad?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned back toward the window, jaw tightening.
"The MoonLink Protocol was designed to test compatibility. Emotional depth. Instinctual pull. The stronger the bond, the more power it grants both individuals."
I frowned. "Power? What kind of power?"
"Control. Authority. Access to ancient abilities only unlocked through true mate links." He met my gaze. "But no one has survived three threads before. The system usually crashes before then."
My stomach dropped. "Then why is mine still going?"
Cassian looked at me like he already knew, but didn't want to say it.
"Because you're not like the others. There's something about you that is different."
We sat together in the garden courtyard shortly after. Just the two of us. Surrounded by lavender and nightshade vines. Moonflowers stretched toward the sun, confused by the shifting energy in the air.
Cassian watched me like he was memorizing my movements.
"You look like your mother," he said again, softer now. "But your presence… that's your father's."
"You knew them both?" I asked carefully.
"I only met her once. But I fought beside him during the last uprising."
"What uprising?"
His jaw locked.
"That part of history was buried. You weren't supposed to know."
I stared at him. "They were hunted, weren't they?"
"Yes."
"Because of the prophecy?"
"Because of you."
I stood up abruptly, pacing. The air felt too tight around my lungs.
"They knew this would happen," I muttered. "That I'd come of age. That the system would find me."
Cassian didn't speak.
And somehow, that was worse than anything he could've said.
Later that night, I sat at the vanity in my room, staring at myself in the mirror.
My reflection looked haunted. Marked. Like the girl who had grown up in a quiet village was long gone, and something ancient had moved into her skin.
The system activated again.
"System Override Detected."
"External Surveillance Intercepted."
I stiffened. This whole system-thing felt oddly strange but familiar.
"Would you like to trace the source?"
"Yes," I whispered.
Almost immediately, a map projected into the mirror, lines of energy spidering through the palace like veins. One glowed red.
I followed it in the projection… down the corridor… through the archives…
And into the West Wing.
The restricted zone.
My door creaked behind me.
I turned fast only to notice a royal guard standing in the doorway, hand on his blade.
"You're not authorized to be awake after curfew, Lady Devereux," he said, eyes unreadable.
"I wasn't aware I needed permission to breathe."
He stepped closer. "Orders from the Council. Your freedom is… suspended. Indefinitely."
And the door slammed shut behind him.