Chapter 10
The howl didn't fade.
It grew.
A sound too ancient to belong in this world, vibrating through the walls, rattling the glass, scraping down my spine like cold metal.
Malakai stepped in front of me, shoulders squared, power rippling off him in dark waves.
"Stay behind me," he repeated, his voice a low command carved from steel.
My breath hitched, but I obeyed—moving close enough that his cloak brushed my legs.
The air thickened, heavy with something I didn't understand yet, something that felt like it was searching for me through the stone.
Another howl—closer this time.
Malakai cursed under his breath, a word in a language older than anything I knew.
"What is it?" I whispered.
He didn't answer. His jaw clenched, and shadows bled from his fingertips, sliding across the floor like living smoke. They coiled around the doorway, forming a barrier that pulsed with his magic.
But the barrier trembled.
Cracked.
Something hit it from the other side.
Hard.
The floor shook.
"Malakai—"
"Don't speak," he said tightly. "It listens."
That didn't make me feel better.
A low growl rumbled through the chamber—the sound of stone grinding, but wet…
animalistic… wrong. Malakai drew one of the shadow-forged blades from thin air.
But then—
My chest burned.
Right where Eamon's rejection mark had once been.
A pulse—soft at first, then violent—throbbed beneath my ribs. I gasped, grabbing my shirt as heat tore through my skin like sunlight breaking through stone.
Malakai spun toward me, eyes widening.
"Elaine—no—"
"I don't—" I choked, "I don't know what's happening!"
Golden light flared under my palms.
Not warm.
Scorching.
Blinding.
The barrier on the door shattered as a monstrous shape slammed through it—blackened fur, too many teeth, eyes like hollow pits dripping silver ichor. It wasn't a wolf. It wasn't anything I'd ever seen.
It was wrong.
Malformed.
And it was looking straight at me.
"Elaine, look at me," Malakai said, voice sharp, commanding.
"Don't let it sense your fear."
"It's already sensing something!"
Another pulse erupted from my chest—this time visible, a ripple of golden light that made the creature recoil with a shriek.
Malakai froze.
His gaze darted between me and the creature.
"It's responding to your awakening," he murmured. "It's drawn to your magic."
"I don't have magic!"
"You do," he growled. "And it's choosing now of all times—damn it."
The creature lunged.
Malakai moved faster.
Shadow and steel collided with corrupted flesh. The impact shook the room. Malakai drove the blade into its side, twisting with brutal precision. The creature shrieked, swinging a claw toward him—but before it could touch him, another burst of gold exploded from my body.
This one wasn't accidental.
It felt like something inside me snapped open.
The creature was flung backward, slamming into the wall with a crack that echoed through the entire palace.
Malakai whipped around to look at me.
His expression—
Shock.
Fear.
Awe.
"Elaine," he breathed, "you just used raw magic without training."
"I didn't mean to!"
"That's what makes it worse."
The creature snarled and pulled itself up, bones cracking back into place as if it couldn't stay broken.
I backed away until my spine hit the wall.
"What do we do?"
"We end it."
Malakai lifted his blade again—but when he stepped forward, the creature ignored him completely. Its head snapped toward me, nostrils flaring like it inhaled my heartbeat itself.
"It wants you," he said, voice sharp.
"Because of what you are."
"And what is that?" I snapped.
This time he didn't look away.
"Lightborn."
The word hit me like a punch.
"What does that even mean?"
"You," he said, each word a heavy truth, "are descended from the line that once ruled magic itself. Lightborn blood hasn't appeared for centuries. They were hunted until everyone believed they were extinct."
My chest tightened.
"And now?"
"And now," Malakai said darkly, "the last of that line is standing in front of me."
The creature lunged again.
Malakai shoved me sideways just as its claws sliced the air where I had been. The force knocked us both to the ground—me landing partially on top of him. For a moment, all I felt was his breath against my cheek, his heartbeat pounding under my palm.
His hand gripped my waist.
"Elaine," he whispered, "focus."
I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes off his lips.
"How do I stop it?"
His fingers tightened, grounding me. "Your magic reacts to emotion. You need a trigger."
"Well, I'm pretty emotional right now!"
"Not fear," he said. "Fear weakens it. You need something stronger."
"Like what?"
His eyes locked onto mine.
"Me."
The room disappeared.
It was just him.
His warmth.
His breath.
His power curling around me like a dark promise.
My pulse roared.
His free hand slid to my jaw—not possessive, not demanding.
Guiding.
"Elaine," he murmured, "look at me, not the creature. Let your body remember what it feels when I touch you."
I shuddered as heat spread through my chest—warm, bright, awakening.
Golden light flared again.
The creature screeched, stumbling back as if burned.
Malakai exhaled, relief flashing across his face. "Good. Again."
He rose, pulling me up with him, never breaking eye contact. The creature lunged, but before Malakai could strike, another surge of light blasted outward—this time forming a circular shield around us.
The creature hit the barrier and disintegrated with a scream that curdled the air.
Silence fell.
The shield slowly faded. My knees buckled, but Malakai caught me before I hit the floor.
"You did it," he whispered.
My breath shook. "I don't know how."
"You will."
His arm stayed around my waist—firm, warm, unwilling to let go even after the danger passed. His thumb brushed the back of my hand, sending another pulse of warmth through me.
"Malakai…" I whispered, "am I really something dangerous?"
"No." His voice softened.
"You are something powerful. And for the first time… I am no longer certain I can protect you."
I stiffened. "What do you mean?"
He hesitated—just a moment—but it was enough for fear to coil in my stomach.
"Your magic awakened," he said. "That means training begins immediately."
"Training? With who?"
His jaw clenched.
"With me."
I felt the shift in the air—heavy, charged, intimate.
But then—
A crash echoed down the corridor.
Voices.
Footsteps.
Guards.
Malakai's eyes darkened. He pulled me close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
"Whatever happens," he whispered, "you do not tell them what you are."
Before I could ask why—
The chamber doors burst open.
"Your Majesty!" a guard shouted. "We heard an attack—what happened?"
Malakai didn't look away from me.
"Everything," he murmured, "just changed."
The hook sharpened, sharp enough to draw blood.
"And this," he added, voice low…
"…is only the beginning."