The cold silence of the dungeon thickened as Keven stood before the healer—his fists clenched, his breath shallow.

  "You won't touch her again," Keven growled, eyes narrowed into slits of burning fury.

  But the healer only leaned forward, the iron bars between them doing little to mute his calm, twisted voice.

  "I already have."

  Something inside Keven snapped. His aura burst into the air like a flame igniting in pure darkness—crackling red veins of power danced across the floor, the torches on the walls flickering violently as if afraid.

  The healer flinched, even he—an ancient in his own right—could feel it.

  Keven stepped forward, voice now lower, deadly calm. “Say that again, and I’ll tear your heart out without breaking a sweat.”

  But before he could reach for the cell door, a strong hand gripped his shoulder.

  “Keven. That’s enough.”

  Yuvan’s voice held authority. Calm, controlled. He looked at his friend, not with judgment—but understanding. Pain still sat heavy on both of them.

  After a long pause, Keven exhaled sharply and stepped back.

  "Fine," he muttered. "But don't expect me to wait around if he tries anything again."

  Without another word, Keven turned and left. As his footsteps echoed away, Yuvan stepped closer to the cell.

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  There was silence... then Yuvan spoke.

  "You knew who she was the moment you laid eyes on her, didn't you?"

  The healer only smirked.

  "Maybe. Maybe not. But she’ll know soon enough.”

  Yuvan’s eyes narrowed. “If you hurt her—”

  “I didn’t. But someone will… if she doesn’t learn control.”

  He leaned in. “You know what lives inside her, don’t you?”

  Yuvan remained still. The air turned colder. The silence between them held stories untold.

  Back upstairs, Keven walked swiftly through the long corridor, his mind spinning.

  The healer’s words haunted him like shadows behind candlelight.

  When he reached Vespera’s room, the door creaked slightly open just as Lady Thalara stepped out. Her serene, timeless face lit up with a gentle smile.

  “She’s calm now,” she said softly. “But still carrying weight in her heart.”

  Keven gave her a small bow. “Thank you, my lady.”

  As Thalara walked away, her soft robes trailing like mist behind her, Keven stepped inside.

  The curtains danced lightly in the breeze. Vespera was seated on the balcony, back turned, her silver hair flowing like moonlight.

  He noticed her shoulders tremble, and just before she could wipe it away, he saw the tear glisten down her cheek.

  “Vespera…” he called gently.

  She gasped softly, quickly turning her head and brushing the tear away. “Keven… I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  He walked closer and sat beside her. For a moment, neither spoke.

  “I feel like I’m losing pieces of myself,” she whispered. “Like something’s growing inside me... and I don’t know if it’s mine.”

  Keven took her hand.

  “You’re not alone. You never were.”

  Their eyes met—and in that moment, everything else faded. He leaned closer, his voice low.

  “I want to help you. Teach you. You’re strong, Vespera. Stronger than you think. But that strength needs to be tamed… and loved.”

  Her breath hitched. “Why me?”

  “Because you’re you. And because… I love you.”

  She didn’t pull away.

  Instead, she rested her forehead against his shoulder, her voice a whisper in the wind.

  “I’m scared, Keven.”

  “I know,” he replied. “But I’m right here. Always.”

  Later that night, Keven looked out from the tower, stars glittering above him.

  She was turning eighteen in days.

  The powers within her—unknown, untamed—would awaken fully.

  And when they did... everything would change.

  He would be ready.

  Even if the world wasn't.