A World that Wants Me Dead

Celeste didn't stop moving until she was well away from the hidden chamber.

Her mind wouldn't stop racing.

The Unwritten, the Thirteenth Sign... Ophiuchus.

It wasn't a myth. It wasn't some forgotten footnote in history. It was real. It had been erased, but not completely, because she was still here.

Her breath came fast as she navigated the underground corridors of the Scorpio stronghold, barely paying attention to where she was going. She needed air and some space to think. But no matter how far she walked, the knowledge pressed in around her, making her feel very suffocated.

The body in the sarcophagus and the same mark carved into their skin.

She wasn't the first.

And if that person had ended up preserved beneath Scorpio territory instead of being remembered, it meant the Order had gotten to them first, just like they would get to her.

A voice pulled her out of her spiral.

"Where exactly do you think you're going?"

Celeste turned sharply.

Kieran stood a few steps behind her with his arms crossed, watching her carefully. He had followed her—but of course, he had.

Her blood burned hot with frustration. "Away from you."

He didn't move, just tilted his head slightly. "Interesting choice of words, considering I'm the only reason you made it out of that room alive."

Celeste let out a sharp breath. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor."

Kieran arched a brow. "You're angry."

"No, I'm thrilled," she snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm having a wonderful time learning that the world I live in wants me dead."

His lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smirk but thought better of it. "You're not dead yet."

Celeste clenched her jaw. "Because of you."

He held her gaze and didn't deny it.

She took a slow step toward him, forcing herself to ignore the instinctive tension in her chest. "You knew, didn't you? You knew what I was before I did."

Kieran exhaled slowly. "I suspected."

"Then why didn't you kill me?"

There was a moment of silence.

Celeste's pulse thrummed. He had no reason to let her live. No reason to stand here, watching her like this—like he was still trying to figure her out.

Kieran shifted slightly, his usual ease replaced by something more careful. "I'm not in the habit of answering stupid questions."

Celeste took another step forward, frustration bubbling over. "Then let's try a better one." She lifted her chin. "What does the Order do with people like me?"

Something flickered in his gaze... Something darker.

"You already know the answer."

Celeste did.

She thought back to the preserved body in the sarcophagus. That person had been just like her, hadn't they? Someone who had this mark, someone who had uncovered just enough truth to get themselves killed.

"You should leave Aetherion," Kieran said suddenly.

Celeste frowned. "What?"

"Run," he said simply. "Go underground, disappear. The Order won't stop hunting you now. If you stay, you won't make it through the next lunar cycle."

Celeste stared at him. "You're suggesting I run?"

"You'd survive."

"And what about everyone else?" she challenged. "How many others like me have they erased? How many have they silenced?"

Kieran's expression didn't change. "Doesn't matter. They're already dead."

Celeste took a slow breath, forcing herself to stay calm. "You're right about one thing—I'm not dead yet."

Kieran's jaw ticked slightly.

"But if I run now, I might as well be," she said quietly.

He studied her for a long moment. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he muttered, "Of course you'd be the stubborn one."

Celeste narrowed her eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Kieran tilted his head, watching her like she was a puzzle that didn't quite fit. "Most people, when given the option between fighting the Zodiac Order and staying alive, pick the second one."

Celeste's lips parted slightly, her pulse pounding. "And you?"

For the first time, something in his expression shifted.

For the briefest moment, she thought he might actually answer.

Instead, he just took a slow step forward—close enough that she could feel the heat of him.

Celeste swallowed hard but held her ground.

"You really don't know when to be afraid, do you?" Kieran murmured.

She refused to look away. "I think I learned how to be afraid the moment you walked into my life."

A small, sharp smirk ghosted across his lips. "Good."

Then, suddenly, he reached for her.

Celeste gasped, instinctively jerking back—but he wasn't attacking.

His fingers barely grazed her collarbone, just below the mark that had started all of this. He didn't press down or grip her, just a barely-there touch, like he was confirming that it was real.

His eyes darkened slightly.

Celeste's breath caught.

For a moment, they weren't enemies.

For a moment, they weren't anything at all—just two people standing too close in the dim light, caught in a silent war neither of them knew how to win.

Then Kieran pulled away, shaking his head slightly as if he had just made a decision he didn't like.

"You're not ready for what's coming," he muttered.

Celeste's pulse was still racing. "Then I guess I'll have to get ready fast."

Kieran exhaled, looking at her like she was the single biggest problem in his life.

Then, to her complete shock, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out something small and metallic.

She barely had time to react before he grabbed her hand and pressed it into her palm.

Celeste looked down. It was a keycard.

She frowned and glanced back up at him. "What's this?"

Kieran's gaze was unreadable. "Something that's going to get me killed if you use it wrong."

Her fingers curled around the card. "Why are you helping me?"

Kieran's mouth quirked slightly, but there was no real humor in it. "I'm not. I just don't like unfinished stories."

Celeste studied him, trying to figure out what the hell was happening inside his mind.

And for the first time, she realized something: Kieran didn't know what to do with her either.

He had been sent to kill her. But now? Now he was giving her an escape route.

Now he was standing too close, watching her like he was waiting for her to prove him wrong.

She didn't know what that meant, but she was going to find out.