The fortress had always felt like a cage, but now the bars had grown sharper. Whispers clung to the corridors the way frost clung to glass—impossible to scrape away. I caught them in passing: servants carrying trays, guards shifting at their posts, even messengers hurrying across the courtyards.

Cursed heir.

The words stalked me more persistently than Selene’s hunters ever had. They slithered through keyholes, tucked themselves under doorframes, and curled at the edges of conversations that stopped the moment I entered.

By the time I reached the war table that morning, the air was already charged. Kaelen stood at the head, golden eyes hard, one hand braced against the blackstone map etched into the table’s surface. Around him, his council circled like vultures, their voices a low, simmering clash that struck like sparks in dry timber.

“…danger to the fortress.”

“…the villages are already restless.”

“…if the rumors spread beyond these walls, we’ll have rebellion—”

“Enough.” Kaelen’s voice cut across them all, sharp as steel.

The chamber silenced, though unease lingered. He didn’t look at me, but I felt the weight of his command shield me nonetheless.

Lord Malric, always the boldest, leaned forward. His hawk’s nose caught the light, making him look sharper than usual. “You cannot ignore this, Majesty. A cursed mate is one thing. A cursed heir—” His eyes slid toward me, disdain curling at the corner of his mouth. “—that is another.”

A muscle ticked in Kaelen’s jaw. “She stays.”

A ripple of shock ran through the chamber.

“Majesty,” Malric pressed, voice rising, “the council demands her removal before—”

Kaelen’s fist slammed into the stone table. The impact rattled cups, scattered carved figures, and sent a tremor through the maps. His golden gaze swept the chamber, daring anyone to speak. No one did.

“She. Stays.”

The silence that followed wasn’t victory—it was brittle, fragile, ready to splinter at the slightest pressure. I kept my spine straight, though my pulse thudded against my ribs. His defense steadied me, yet the cracks in his rule were visible to everyone. They smelled blood, and Kaelen’s defiance only fed their hunger.

–––

Later, in the training yard, the air was bitter with cold. Frost dusted the ground, and my breath fogged before me as I blocked a guard’s strike, twisted, and swept his legs out from under him. The thud of his body against the earth drew a cheer from the other warriors watching.

But Kaelen’s eyes were on me, sharp and unreadable from where he stood at the edge of the yard.

I reset my stance, lifted the practice blade again, and tried not to notice how his gaze followed every movement. Then it happened—mid-swing, a sharp tug low in my body made me falter. My hand brushed my stomach instinctively.

The hesitation lasted less than a heartbeat, but Kaelen saw.

His expression darkened, fierce and possessive. He called the match off with a single gesture. The guards obeyed instantly, scattering until the yard was suddenly too quiet.

“You should rest,” he said.

“I don’t need rest.”

“You hesitated.” His tone brooked no argument, the words dropping like stones between us.

I forced myself to meet his gaze. “And what then? You’ll lock me up again? Keep me hidden in your wing like some fragile thing? I’ve survived worse than training drills.”

For a moment, I thought he might argue. His mouth tightened, his shoulders drawn taut as a bowstring. But instead, he turned sharply, as if the sight of me unsettled him more than any blade. His cloak snapped in the wind as he left me standing in the frost.

–––

That evening, Rowan summoned me to his chamber. The old healer’s room was cluttered with scrolls and herbs dangling from the rafters. Bowls of ash sat on the shelves, and the smell of sage burned the back of my nose.

He sat hunched over a basin of water, his fingers tracing patterns across the surface. The ripples shimmered faintly, as though echoing his thoughts.

“You’ve felt it, haven’t you?” he murmured, without looking up.

I frowned. “Felt what?”

“The walls.” He lifted his head. His eyes, clouded with age and wisdom, seemed to pierce right through me. “They listen.”

The words raised the hairs on my neck.

“Selene’s magic has seeped into the fortress stones,” Rowan continued, his voice low and grim. “Every whisper, every secret, every heartbeat—it carries.”

I stepped back, the weight of the fortress suddenly heavier on my shoulders. “You mean she hears us?”

“Not yet,” Rowan said, though there was little comfort in his tone. “But she is trying. The cracks in this place are not just in stone. They are in blood, in trust. And she exploits every one.”

His warning clung to me long after I left, trailing like smoke through the halls.

–––

Night fell heavy. The fortress settled into silence, but I could not sleep. The walls themselves seemed to hum, alive with something I couldn’t name.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the moonlight bleeding through the shutters. My breath slowed, but the unease in my chest only grew.

Then I heard it.

A voice. Soft. Lilting.

“Aria…”

My name.

I froze, every muscle taut. The voice came again, seeping through the stone, curling around me like smoke.

“Aria…”

I knew that voice. I would know it anywhere.

Selene.

I rose slowly, barefoot on cold stone, the sound drawing me toward the window. The whisper caressed the air, velvet and venom.

“Sister… come to me.”

My hands trembled against the shutters. The pull in her voice was unnatural, threaded with magic that wrapped around my bones. My heart hammered as I pressed closer, almost without meaning to.

“Aria,” she coaxed, gentle, coaxing. “They will turn on you. They always do. But I… I will never abandon you. Come.”

The cold air leaked through the cracks, carrying her words like a breath against my ear. My fingers hovered over the latch.

One step closer, and I could almost believe her. Almost.

The moonlight sliced across the floor, silver and sharp. My body leaned toward it, caught in the web of her voice, until all I could hear was Selene’s whisper echoing inside me.

“Come to me, little sister.”