Chapter Twenty: The Ghosts of the Gods

The Shades of Orphan ran.

Tara's breath burned in her lungs, her boots pounding against the cracked pavement. The city was nothing but a blur of broken walls and twisted metal, the shadows stretching long under the dim glow of the Shade Territory's ever-present twilight.

She couldn't stop replaying Seamus' words.

"You were made to be more than just a soldier in this war. You were made to end it."

A shiver ran through her.

She didn't want to be anything more.

But her body said otherwise.

A pulse of something ancient thrummed in her bones, her vision flickering at the edges. Faces. Shapes. Wings. Blood.

She was changing.

Again.

"Tara," Landon's voice was sharp beside her, his grip brushing her wrist as they vaulted over a rusted-out truck. "Keep moving."

She forced herself to focus.

The DNHA was closing in—she could hear them now, the metallic hum of dampener tech crackling in the air, snuffing out any supernatural power within reach.

Seamus was just ahead, moving with an ease that shouldn't have belonged to an old man.

Ballad and Skye took the lead, cutting through the ruins like they'd done this a hundred times. Talulah and Lottie followed close behind, their footsteps eerily quiet.

A hollow feeling settled in Tara's gut.

Zeke should have been here.

But he wasn't.

And if the DNHA had found them so fast...

She swallowed hard, shoving the thought away.

They wouldn't break him.

They couldn't.

Could they?

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

Ballad.

"Left—now!"

The group veered, darting between the skeletal remains of a collapsed building. The moment they crossed the threshold, Seamus raised a hand.

Something shifted.

The air around them rippled, bent, folded in on itself.

Tara gasped as the ruins blurred, the space around them twisting like heat over pavement.

And then—silence.

The noises outside were gone.

Tara blinked, her mind scrambling to make sense of what just happened.

Seamus lowered his hand. "That should buy us time."

"What did you—"

"A veil," he muttered. "Not perfect, but it'll keep us hidden for now."

Landon's jaw was clenched as he scanned the area. "Where the hell even are we?"

Seamus exhaled, his gaze sweeping over the ruins. "An old temple."

Tara frowned. "I thought the temples were all destroyed after the Divide."

Seamus smirked. "Most were." He turned back to her. "Not this one."

She shivered.

The place felt old. Older than Shade Territory itself.

She could feel it.

Something beneath the ruins was watching.

The weight of history pressed against her skin.

Ballad crossed her arms. "So are you gonna tell us why you're helping us, or are we just supposed to trust that you're some nice old man who conveniently knows way too much about Tara?"

Seamus chuckled. "I never asked for trust."

Lottie narrowed her eyes. "Then what do you want?"

Seamus tilted his head, his gaze landing on Tara again.

"I want to see what she does with the truth."

Tara's stomach twisted.

"The truth," she repeated. "You mean—"

"The gods," Seamus said simply.

Tara swallowed.

She already knew she carried the Morrigan's blood. But all of them?

That was something else entirely.

Seamus stepped closer. "You feel them, don't you? The shifting. The hunger. The war inside you."

Tara didn't answer.

Seamus' gaze darkened. "You were made for something great, girl. But even the gods don't know which side of the war you'll stand on."

Silence stretched.

Then Talulah spoke, her voice quiet, but certain.

"There's a prophecy."

Tara stiffened.

Seamus nodded. "Aye."

Ballad let out a sharp breath. "You're saying Tara is some walking doomsday weapon?"

Seamus smirked. "That's one way to put it."

Landon's hand curled into a fist. "No."

Seamus raised a brow.

Landon's eyes burned with something fierce, something unshakable. "She's not some weapon. Not some prophecy."

He turned to Tara, his expression softening. "You're Tara. And that's all that matters."

Something inside her cracked.

Seamus hummed. "Sweet sentiment. But the world won't see it that way."

Tara felt sick.

She didn't know what was worse—the prophecy, or the way Seamus was looking at her.

Like she wasn't just a girl.

Like she wasn't even human.

The wind outside shifted.

Tara's entire body went cold.

The veil around them shuddered.

Seamus turned sharply. "They found us."

A heartbeat later, a metal voice echoed outside.

"Secure the perimeter. The girl is here."

Tara's blood ran ice cold.

They knew.

They knew exactly where she was.

Seamus' face darkened. "Time's up."

Ballad grabbed her knife. "We need a plan."

Seamus looked at Tara.

No.

He studied her.

He waited.

Tara's pulse thundered.

She didn't know what she was.

She didn't know what she was capable of.

But she knew one thing.

If she wanted to survive—

She needed to stop running.

The crows screamed.

And the war inside her finally woke up.