Chapter 71: The Price of Power

Kael awoke to fire in his veins.

Every nerve ending screamed as consciousness returned in jagged fragments. His body arched off the cold stone floor, muscles locking as something dark and hungry writhed beneath his skin. He gasped, but no air filled his lungs—only a thick, cloying darkness that tasted of burnt copper and winter frost.

A hand clamped around his wrist, cold as a grave.

"Breathe, idiot." Aurelia's voice cut through the haze, sharp as the dagger she still clutched in her other hand. "Or you'll drown in it."

Kael choked as the darkness in his chest shifted, coiling tight around his ribs before settling like a second heartbeat. His vision cleared in time to see Aurelia's face hovering above him—pale, drawn, her usual smirk replaced by something dangerously close to concern. The black veins he'd seen before now traced delicate patterns beneath her skin, pulsing in time with the unnatural rhythm in his own chest.

The temple—or what remained of it—lay in ruins around them. The once-crumbling walls had been reduced to scattered rubble, the altar shattered into jagged fragments. Of the Original, there was no sign.

Lucian stood at the edge of the destruction, his back to them, sword still drawn. The dawn light painted his silhouette in blood-red hues.

"You're alive," Aurelia said, releasing Kael's wrist. "Mostly."

Kael tried to sit up, his arms shaking with the effort. "What... did you do to me?"

"Saved your life." She wiped her dagger clean on her thigh, the blade leaving streaks of inky black against the leather. "The pact needed an anchor. You volunteered."

"I didn't—"

"You took my hand." Aurelia's smile didn't reach her eyes. "That's consent where I come from."

A shudder ran through Kael as the thing inside him stirred, responding to her voice. He could feel it now—a sliver of something ancient and hungry nestled beside his soul. The same power that flowed through Aurelia's veins.

Lucian turned, his crimson eyes glowing in the dim light. "She's not gone."

Aurelia sighed, rolling her shoulders as if working out a kink. "Of course not. You don't kill the concept of endings that easily." She picked up a shard of the broken altar, turning it over in her hands. "But we clipped her wings."

The stone crumbled to dust between her fingers.

Kael forced himself to his feet, his legs threatening to buckle. The world looked different now—sharper, as if someone had peeled back a layer of gauze. He could see the faint shimmer of power clinging to the rubble, could trace the lingering echoes of their battle in the air like smoke.

Aurelia watched him, her head tilted. "The first few hours are the worst."

Lucian's sword point scraped against stone. "You've done this before."

"Not like this." She tucked her dagger away, her movements deliberately slow. "The others didn't survive."

A chill ran down Kael's spine. "Others?"

Aurelia met his gaze, her dark eyes endless. "You really think you're the first person I've tried to save?"

The thing inside Kael twisted, whispering secrets in a language he didn't understand but felt in his marrow. Fragments of memories not his own—other faces, other lives, all ending in screams and blackened veins.

Lucian stepped between them, his sword still raised. "What happens now?"

Aurelia looked past him, to where the first true rays of sunlight crested the ruined temple walls. "Now?" She exhaled, her breath fogging in the sudden cold. "She comes for what's hers."

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of damp earth and something darker. Somewhere in the distance, a fox yipped—once, twice—then fell silent.

Kael's stolen power stirred in response, whispering a single word:

Run.