The Aftermath of a Hunter's Oath
Zyra's breathing was still uneven, her muscles taut with the remnants of battle. The forest around them had settled into uneasy silence, as if the trees themselves had witnessed the fight and dared not disturb its aftermath.
Valen was gone.
But the weight of his words remained, pressing against her like an invisible chain.
"This isn't over. And next time… you won't see me coming."
She knew what that meant.
He hadn't been fighting to win tonight—he had been testing them. Measuring their strengths, finding their weaknesses. Preparing for something bigger.
The celestial order didn't send its Seekers after just anyone. If Valen had been hunting her all those years ago, it meant that Zyra wasn't just a mistake in the grand design.
She was a threat to it.
And now, Kieran was entangled in it too.
The thought made her stomach coil with something sharp and bitter.
"You okay?" Kieran's voice pulled her back.
She turned to face him, taking in the way his silver eyes watched her, keen and searching. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat, his shirt torn from the fight, exposing the defined muscles beneath. He looked every bit the warrior fate had shaped him into—every bit the king he was destined to become.
And she?
She was the cursed woman bound to him.
Fated. Marked. Hunted.
Zyra exhaled slowly, forcing herself to shove the thoughts aside.
"I'm fine," she lied.
Kieran studied her for a moment longer before giving a slow nod. "Good," he said. "Because we need to move."
Zyra hesitated. "You think he'll come back tonight?"
"No," Kieran murmured. "But we won't wait around for him to decide when to strike again."
He was right. They had to stay ahead of the celestial order's reach. Stay ahead of fate itself.
So why did it feel like no matter how far they ran, destiny was always a step behind?
---
A Long Road Ahead
The night stretched before them as they made their way through the dense woods. Kieran moved with the quiet grace of someone accustomed to the hunt, his senses sharp, his presence unwavering. Zyra, for all her skill, was still shaken.
She hated that she let Valen get under her skin.
She hated that Kieran had seen it.
"His name is Valen. And he's the reason I don't believe in mercy anymore."
The words still lingered between them, unspoken questions hanging in the air like storm clouds.
Finally, Kieran broke the silence.
"You said he tried to kill you," he murmured. "Back then."
Zyra kept her eyes forward. "Yes."
Kieran didn't push immediately, but she could feel his curiosity pressing against her like a tide threatening to pull her under.
"Why?" he asked at last.
She sighed. "Because I was born under an eclipse."
His brow furrowed. "And that means…?"
"It means I wasn't supposed to exist," Zyra said flatly. "The celestial order sees my birth as an omen of chaos. A disruption to fate's design. So they tried to erase me before I could become a problem."
Kieran was silent for a moment. Then—"They failed."
A bitter smile touched her lips. "They thought they succeeded. But I got away."
"And now they know you're alive," Kieran mused, glancing at her. "And they still see you as a threat."
Zyra didn't answer. She didn't have to.
Kieran exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fate is cruel, isn't it?"
She let out a humorless laugh. "Fate is a damned executioner."
His gaze flicked to hers, something dark and intense swirling in the silver depths. "Then maybe it's time we break it."
---
The Secrets of the Eclipse
Hours passed, and the night slowly bled into the gray hush of dawn. They had traveled far, leaving behind the battleground where Valen had made his first move.
But as the horizon lightened, a strange sensation crawled up Zyra's spine.
A whisper in the wind. A presence watching.
Her steps faltered.
Kieran noticed instantly. "What is it?"
Zyra turned sharply, scanning the trees. Nothing moved. But she felt something. A familiar energy, old and bound by something ancient.
Then she saw it.
Etched into the bark of a nearby tree—a mark.
Her heart lurched.
Not just any mark.
A sigil of the eclipsed.
Someone had been here before them. Someone who knew exactly who and what she was.
"This isn't good," she murmured, stepping closer. Her fingers traced the symbol, the power within it humming against her skin.
Kieran frowned. "What does it mean?"
"It means we're not the only ones fighting fate," she whispered.
She turned back to him, heart pounding.
"This is a warning."
"From who?"
Zyra's fingers curled into a fist.
"The ones who came before me."
---
The Path to Rebellion
The realization settled over them like a storm cloud.
They had been running for so long, trying to survive, trying to escape fate's grasp.
But this sigil—this message—it was proof that they weren't alone.
That others had fought against destiny before them.
And if they had left a warning behind…
Then maybe they had left a way to win.
Kieran met her gaze, understanding flickering in his expression.
"You think this could lead us to them?"
"I think it's our only chance," Zyra said.
For the first time, they weren't just running.
They were hunting.
And fate was about to learn that it wasn't the only one pulling the strings.
---