He parted his lips.His voice was not weak. Not wounded.It was precise—almost cruel.
—"Do you want to know why all your betrothed end up dead…?"His tone was a venomous whisper, cutting through the silence.
Arisha stepped back, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.—"It's simple."He paused, every word soaked in gravity.—"You are not like them."
She narrowed her eyes, forcing herself to remain composed.—"Why would I believe a mere human?" she snapped coldly.—"A slave who knows nothing about me."
He didn't answer out loud.Instead, his voice slid into her mind like an inevitable whisper:
"Then let them tell you the truth about your origin…or let Varek himself confirm it.If you doubt me, believe what you wish—White Nevri."
The name struck her like an invisible blow.How could he know that word?How could he call her that?
For a brief moment, the world stopped.Her breath faltered.Some buried fragment of memory pulsed deep inside her—as if her name had activated an echo she had tried to forget.
Then he added one more sentence, barely a murmur:
"Do you think you're the first to carry that name?All Nevri burn…But only one will decide whether the fire purifies or devours."
Confusion crashed through her like a thunderclap.But before she could ask—before she could even process it—a familiar voice tore through the moment.
—"What are you doing here, Arisha?" Mikhael asked, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.
She turned slowly, burying the tremor in her chest.—"Didn't know you had a thing for slavery," he added with biting sarcasm.—"They're exotic… but aggressive."
Arisha kept her expression calm, though her mind raced.
Mikhael eyed the chained boy with contempt.He moved his fingers slightly—a silent command to the guards lurking nearby.—"Just a captured rebel," he said, as if commenting on an insect.—"Useless… aside from what's in his blood. Nothing more."
—"Right. I must've lost my mind for a second," Arisha replied, cold and distant.
As the guards surrounded the prisoner, Mikhael stepped closer, suspicion flickering in his emerald eyes.He ordered a blood extraction to analyze his origin—but when the needle touched his skin, it bent.The flesh rejected it.
One of the guards cursed under his breath.Mikhael's frown deepened.
Baco smiled faintly.Not with arrogance.But with something far more unsettling—a quiet certainty.
He didn't speak.He didn't scream.He simply watched them, in silence.With those impossible eyes… like embers asleep beneath ash.
Arisha, from the corner of her eye, noticed Mikhael's confusion.Something about the prisoner's silence didn't sit right.Something was not normal.
But it wasn't the time to ask.Not there.Not yet.
She let herself be escorted out, her steps measured.But as they exited the sealed lab, she glanced back one last time.
The boy's gaze met hers.Not pleading.Not afraid.Recognizing her.
She didn't know him.And yet, something in her soul trembled.As if she had already lost him once.And that was the feeling she hated most.
That would be the last memory she had of him…For now.