Mira’s POV.

“You didn’t even flinch.”

Mira’s voice cracked as she shoved the training blade into its sheath. Her eyes were still fixed on Kael. The sparring match was over, but her pulse hadn’t slowed from the look he gave her. He had no fear and no shock, just quiet calculation.

“You knew it would happen again,” she said, stepping back. “The mark. The light. You weren’t surprised.” Kael didn’t deny it. “I need air.” That’s what she told the guard before slipping past the outer wall. But air wasn’t what she was after. Mira needed silence, distance from Kael’s eyes, from Rhian’s careful tone, from Cyrus’s cryptic warnings, and the sigil burning under her skin like a second heartbeat.

She didn’t take a horse. Didn’t take a blade. Just ran. She walked through the Blackridge’s shadow, through the cracked field gates. Her lungs burned. Still, she didn’t stop until the mountain walls were distant echoes.

Finally, Mira collapsed at the base of an ash tree older than anything she remembered. Her knees hit moss. Her hands curled in the dirt. And then, she broke.

Tears came in a storm, violent, silent, shameful. The sigil above her collarbone glowed through the fabric of her tunic. The pulse wasn’t rhythmic; it was panicked. Like it, too, wanted out. Like something beneath her skin was scratching to the surface.

She pulled at her clothes, exposing herself. The mark flared under the cold air, shaped like three lines within a broken ring. “No,” she muttered. “No, no, no.” She clawed at it, nails dragging against skin. “You’re not me. You’re not mine.” But it didn’t stop. It pulsed brighter, synced with her breathing, her panic. And then something deeper cracked, not in her skin, but in her mind.

Images she never lived burst across her thoughts: a room of screaming infants, a voice chanting over fire, a mask descending over her face. Pain. Light. And then Kael’s voice saying, “She’s stable.”

Mira curled into herself, sobs racking through her. “I killed them,” she whispered. “I did kill them.” Her parents. The fire. The blood., Everyone said the rebels were to blame. Everyone said she had survived the inferno. But no one ever explained why her mother’s last words were to hide her. No one explained why her father’s final breath had whispered seal it.

Kael didn’t knock branches aside. He didn’t call out. He just appeared, quiet and shadowed, at the edge of the glade. Mira didn’t raise her head. “You shouldn’t have come,” she rasped. “I should’ve been here earlier.”

“Yes,” Kael answered. She laughed, raw. “Of course you do.”

“I thought if I kept you close,” he said slowly, “I could keep it from waking.” She turned to him. “What is it?” His silence said enough. “You think I’m part of it, this Aeon project. You knew.” “I suspected. But I never believed it would take root.” Mira’s breath caught. “Then why didn’t you warn me?” Kael’s hands curled into fists. “Because if you weren’t… I would’ve broken you for nothing.”

“Even the ones they buried.” She laughed again, bitterly. Then he reached for her. She didn’t resist when his palm settled on her back. His other hand touched her jaw. Their foreheads met. The silence around them cracked.

The mark between her collarbone and shoulder blade flared. Kael’s energy surged into her, Alpha-born, binding, instinctive. It reached through the bond and brushed her soul. Her heart stuttered. Her body warmed. It felt like drowning in comfort. In safety. In belonging. And then she shoved him back.

“Don’t.” Kael froze. “Don’t mark me just because you’re afraid to lose me.” He stared at her. She stood slowly, breathing hard, the mark glowing gold against her skin. “I’m not yours to save. I’m not yours to bind.”

“I wasn’t trying to bind you.”

“Yes, you were,” she said. “And I get it. You’ve lost before. But don’t chain me to your fear.” Kael’s jaw clenched. But he nodded. Once. Respectful. Silent. They sat under the tree until the stars climbed the sky. At some point, Mira leaned against his shoulder. Not from weakness. From trust. Far in the distance, something howled. Not wolf. Not spirit. Something older.

“I know.”

Kael didn’t lie. He just reached for her hand. They returned to Blackridge before dawn. Mira walked ahead of Kael, straight-backed, silent. The guards didn’t ask where they’d been. No one dared. But Mira could feel the way eyes followed her, not with suspicion. With caution.

The original sigil was still there, dimmer now, faded like cooling metal. But just beneath it, a new mark had formed. It is smaller and shaped like an eye. Watching her.

Mira traced the new mark below her collarbone, voice barely audible. “It’s not fading like the other.” Kael stepped closer, gaze narrowing. “It’s a second seal.” She looked at him sharply. “You’ve seen it before.”

He hesitated. Then, softly, “Only once. And the bearer didn’t survive the full awakening. “A knock echoed on Mira’s door, three deliberate taps. And from the other side, Rhian’s voice cut through the silence.” We found another one. Marked. Alive. And it’s not from your bloodline.”