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Chapter 18 – The Shadow Prophet Attacks
Last Updated:
2025-03-29 18:07:57
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Monsters rarely wore masks. The best ones wore familiar faces.By the time I got back to my quarters, the fire in my chest had turned into something else—a slow, quiet rage that curled up next to my bones like it belonged there. The others hadn’t noticed I was gone until I reappeared in the council hall just before dawn, Caspian behind me, the journal clutched to my chest like a weapon.I didn’t sleep that night. I tried. But sleep only teased, like a cruel friend brushing past my shoulder and disappearing before I could reach. I stared at the ceiling for hours, my body exhausted, my mind wide awake.When I finally closed my eyes, the vision came.It started with darkness, thick and absolute. But this wasn’t the kind that swallowed you whole. It was alive. Breathing. It pulsed with something ancient and watching.Then came the sound. Whispered words I couldn’t make out at first, like they were being spoken underwater. I turned in the vision, searching for something, anything. The air
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I thought the worst truth was not knowing. I was wrong.It was knowing, finally, and realizing the silence had been safer.The morning after Caspian's claim, after Kieran’s retreat and his near-surrender to something that looked like compromise, I needed clarity. Not from the Alphas. Not from prophecy. From my own cursed past.I slipped out before dawn, leaving a note behind so they wouldn’t tear the territory apart looking for me. The forest was quiet, heavy with dew and old magic. My boots crunched over undergrowth, and every step toward the hidden archives felt like trudging through molasses. Each breath I took felt heavier than the last, like the truth was a stone tied to my ribs. The quiet was welcome and suffocating at once.Ronan had once told me about the sealed records. The ones that didn’t make it into the Council's official archives. The ones buried beneath stone and spell and time. He hadn’t said I couldn’t go there. But he hadn’t exactly handed me a key either.I used the
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It didn’t feel like freedom. Not yet.Knowing I had a choice was one thing. Knowing what to do with it was something else entirely. My whole life had been about surviving what came at me, not deciding who I wanted to be. And standing between four Alphas who would bleed for me? That wasn’t power. That was pressure. Immense. Suffocating. Some days, I couldn’t breathe under it.The wind bit as we rode back into the compound, and I felt raw. Like the scroll had peeled back something inside me and left it exposed to the world. I kept running the seer's words over in my head: the hand that breaks or the one that weaves. But what if both hands were mine? What if I wove something only to watch it tear apart anyway?Kieran dismounted first, silent as always when his thoughts turned sharp. Ronan gave me a look that lingered, the kind that didn’t press for answers but knew they were coming. Cian stretched his arms with a grunt, already asking someone for food. And Caspian—He didn’t say anything
