GILDEONHe didn’t move. Couldn’t. His eyes stayed locked on the couple. Something stirred deep inside—a pull, like he was truly connected to them. Especially to the one they called Daego.Could they really be his mother and father?Haemos had known them. That was the part that was fucking with his head. Why had Old Man lied to him?“You look bothered, salamander,” Drusden said, craning his neck to get a read on his face. “Huh. You didn’t know them, did you? Orphaned too young, is that it?”He ignored him. The Headwitch could talk all he wanted. Gildeon was tuned in elsewhere, listening to the conversation between his father and Markaus. They talked about Greater Beast sightings. Camp relocations. Strategies. The stuff that mattered.A proud smile tugged at the corner of Gildeon’s mouth. General Daego was a wise man.Drusden’s voice ruined it again. “He kind of moves and talks like you.”“I liked it better when you weren’t here,” Gildeon shot back, irritation creeping into his voice.D
GILDEONHe held his breath, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. Or rather, his father said something, but it was all muted.“Did you censor it?” Gildeon asked, tilting his head slightly. He couldn’t see Drusden lurking in the shadows, but he was certain the bastard was there.“Now, why would I do that?” Drusden retorted. “This is your subconscious, salamander. The memory of your parents—well, parent—is ingrained in your spirit. I have no control over it.”Gildeon dragged his attention back to the scene. Ragina’s face said it all—eyes wide, lips parted. She knew who it was. Part of him thought she’d be mad at Daego, but she just stared at the baby. Shocked, but not angry. She held the little him in her arms as the membrane slowly dissolved, strand by strand, until only the baby remained, crying. That sound, from him, was strange to his ears.Weeks passed. The baby’s existence had been hidden from everyone. Only Haemos and Kohina knew about it. Gildeon watched Ragina care for the ba
GILDEONIn a blink, he was back in Drusden’s throne room. He dropped to his knees, palms flat on the cold floor, breath ragged. He hadn’t even realized he’d shifted back to his mortal form. His chest tightened, a storm of emotions threatening to tear free.His mysterious birth mother. His father’s death…He slammed his palms against the floor, frustration boiling over. Haemos and Kohina knew who he really was. Why the fuck had they kept it from him?Footsteps. Brown boots halted in front of him—Drusden’s. The Headwitch crouched, head tilted.“If you need a shoulder to cry on, mine’s available, salamander,” Drusden mocked.Gildeon’s glare burned as he met the bastard’s smug face.“Not gonna lie. Your father’s memory might be my favorite one I’ve delved into.” Drusden paced, dragging from his cigarette. “Learned a lot about your kind. Shame we never got the real answer about your mother.”He stopped, gaze lifting to Dragon Zylas as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke. “I really thought I’
ARAHIt was up to her to pull him out of it.The weight of that realization pressed down on Arah like a boulder. She was determined—of course, she was—but how was she supposed to do it? The thought of failing, of not being enough to help Gildeon, curled around her ribs like a vice.She shook her head, shoving the doubt aside. This wasn’t the time for uncertainty. Gildeon needed her, and that was all that mattered.She sprinted down the prison hallway, dodging jagged chunks of fallen stone and splintered beams. Behind her, the sounds of battle raged—Roselia and Lokius locked in a deadly clash.Then, a sharp cry of pain.Roselia.Arah faltered, her body twisting instinctively toward the sound. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn back, to help. But she knew Roselia wouldn’t want that. She wouldn’t forgive Arah for wasting time—not when Gildeon’s life hung in the balance.Gritting her teeth, Arah forced her feet forward.Outside, the fog wall loomed before her—a towering, imp
ARAHDrusden looked almost the same as he did in the present—just younger. His brown hair was longer, and his face was more open, easier to read. There was no trace of his usual smugness. Instead, he was serious. Dutiful. His tone lacked the usual edge of playfulness she had grown so used to.How could he be the same Drusden, yet different at the same time? Maybe witch power really could change people after all.She followed Drusden through the streets until he stopped in front of a small house. Sympathy softened his features as he spoke to the victim’s wife. Inside, four children sat around a table—faces thin, clothes worn—with nothing but bowls of plain porridge in front of them.Arah felt a tug in her chest. It was obvious they weren’t eating enough. And now, with their provider gone, how would they survive?“I am deeply sorry,” Drusden said.The woman broke down, shoulders trembling as she wept.Drusden’s gaze flickered to the children, their wide eyes full of questions they were
ARAHAnother death was reported—a woman who sold milk and eggs, saving every coin to buy medicine for her bedridden father.Arah watched as Drusden slammed his fists onto the desk, sending a quill and inkpot rattling, scrolls tumbling to the floor. His jaw tightened, nostrils flaring as he ducked his head, a muscle ticking in his temple. Even his men, though silent, shared his frustration.She still didn’t know how the deaths were connected to the ministers, but she believed in Drusden’s suspicions. This whole thing reeked of injustice. And more than anything, she wanted to see what he would do about it.The next day, Drusden and his men arrived at one of the ministers’ workshops. The place reeked of ink and damp parchment—likely the very goods being produced here.“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Inspector,” one of the workshop guards stammered, his face pale. “The ministers won’t take kindly to this.”Drusden barely spared him a glance. “I’m not here for their kindness, boy,” he said sharp
ARAHZephyr brought Drusden to Yonah’s temple. And as she had with Marianne, Arah watched Drusden enter the Dark Plane with Zephyr’s help. It took longer this time, and at one point, she thought Drusden would die right there on his knees.When Drusden snapped back to consciousness, his palms slapped against the stone floor. His breath came in ragged gasps, sweat beading on his forehead. His skin was ghostly pale, his wide eyes unfocused—like a man who had stared into the abyss and seen something stare back.“What have you sacrificed, human?” Zephyr asked, crouching before him.Drusden slowly lifted his head, fat tears streaming down his cheeks. “My spirit will live on even after death,” he said softly. “I will never be able to reunite with my family.”Arah couldn’t begin to imagine the misery Drusden would endure for the price he paid.A small smile appeared on Zephyr’s lips. “For that sacrifice, the power you obtained must be great. Show me.”Without a word, Drusden exhaled, and a bi
ARAHThe next memory swept her onto the battlements, where she had a clear view of the invasion unfolding below. This was a different place, a different time. A different nation. The people spoke in foreign tongues.Men in ragged clothing, their faces twisted with barbaric fury, slaughtered civilians with swords and axes. Limbs were severed, bodies crumpled in pools of blood. Women screamed as they were dragged away—some ruthlessly stripped of their clothes, preyed upon by these animals. Children’s throats were slit without hesitation.Arah grimaced in horror at every atrocity, her stomach churning. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to forget—to block out the carnage. But every anguished scream, every whispered prayer of the helpless, cut through her like a blade, carving into her heart and twisting her gut.Zephyr’s voice interrupted her thoughts.“Look at them,” he said to Drusden as he stood on the parapet ledge, gazing down at the massacre below. “Look at how your kind d
ARAHShe checked herself in the mirror, smoothing down the pink dress covered in little floral prints—it matched the theme for tonight. It was her first time going to a bachelorette party, and everything she knew about them came from movies.And in those movies, there were usually male strippers.She’d asked Mabel if there’d be any. Mabel had just giggled and said “no” over the phone, but in that coy way that didn’t really feel like a no.That made her a little nervous.Arah wondered how Gildeon would take it if he found out she went to a party where half-naked men were out there flaunting their abs and grinding to some sexy music. Would he be annoyed? Jealous? Pissed?The thought made her smile as she stepped out of her room and passed by the study. She paused at the door, resting her hand against it, picturing Gildeon inside—still in his cocoon, still asleep.The first time he’d finally let her in, she hadn’t known what to expect. The study room had felt weird. Empty, no furniture,
ARAHShe slipped the cardstock with her printed Clover Wish design out of the binder, tore it into pieces, and dropped them into the bin. Then she pulled out a few more flash sheets—ones with patterns that looked a little too much like real sigils—and tossed those out too.She couldn’t risk setting something off again and starting another coven war.A month had passed since the incident. Life on Caylao Island had returned to normal, as if nothing strange had ever happened. The townspeople had been spared that horrific memory thanks to Roselia’s bewitching fog. If it hadn’t been for that, Arah likely would’ve lost her friends too after they found out she wasn’t human.She looked up at her friends gathered in the waiting area, swapping theories about what really happened at Baccayo Prison that night.“I heard Sharko’s gang was involved,” Mabel said, swirling her straw in her milk tea. “Maybe they tried to break out some of their old members.”Tonio grimaced, mid-chew on a massive bite o
GILDEONThey brought Arah to Roselia’s farmhouse. She was still out cold, and it would likely take her a few days to recover. Roselia had set up the back room, lit herbs that filled the air with sharp smoke, and circled Arah with crystals humming with healing energy.Gildeon switched on his dragon sight. Arah’s aura flickered, blue-green, faint. But something else swam through it—streaks of deep, electric blue that came and went like a second heartbeat.Gildeon hadn’t seen that on her before, but maybe they were remnants of some buried power. Something that had awakened when her life hung by a thread—something she’d used to wipe out both Zylas and Drusden.The aftermath of that fight still gnawed at him in strange ways, but none of it mattered for now. Answers could wait. He’d talk to Arah when she woke up.Gildeon pulled the blanket over her shoulders, then glanced at Ghulik, who was curled on a cushion near the bed, snoring like an old man, his belly swollen.Before leaving the Bacc
GILDEONThe monster that had been Drusden let out a growl that made the air tremble. Its massive fist crashed down, shattering the stone floor, jagged cracks splintering out like veins. Gildeon staggered back, the ground quaking beneath him.He needed to get to Arah—fast. But his attacks were useless against this colossal Fog Drusden. His flames and claws struck nothing but air, doing little more than disrupting the mist. Meanwhile, every swing of its massive arm and stomp of its enormous foot shattered the makeshift walls and cracked the floor beneath him.He had to find its weakness. But even when he used his dragon eyes, he couldn’t find anything.Gildeon leaped back repeatedly, leaving decoys in his wake until the giant beast fixated on them. The distraction worked. With the creature’s attention elsewhere, he slipped into the shadows, making his way toward Ghulik and Roselia.Roselia was still unconscious, but her aura was slowly returning.“Master, Ghulik used last power to heal
DRUSDENHe had wagered everything he had left on this battle. Half his soul remained with the titan form he had unleashed against Gildeon, while the other was committed to harvesting Arah’s power.When all his comrades had fallen, he thought everything was lost—that he was fighting for nothing but survival and revenge. But then he had found a way to exploit the weaknesses of both Gildeon and Arah. And with that, an opportunity had emerged.This would be his last chance to complete the mission.For the sake of his fallen witches, he had to claim victory.The air shimmered with the sylph’s power—cool, electric, alive. It curled around him, thrumming against his skin. Even half of her essence would be enough to ignite the ascension, to send him spiraling into a euphoria of accelerated evolution.From a human who became a powerful witch to a witch on the brink of ascending to a higher mortal state—only one step remained. Zylas had to carry him up to the Shamibar to complete his transforma
ARAHThe talons dug into her ribs, tight enough that she could barely breathe. Every movement sent sharp jolts through her side. Above, the wind roared past—a cold, biting force that turned her breath ragged and thin. She could feel the heat of the dragon’s underbelly, a stark contrast to the freezing air, like the sun trapped in scales.The wings beat in a steady, monstrous rhythm. Each downward stroke sent a tremor through her body, making her stomach lurch. The sheer power of it swallowed everything else, drowning out even her own pounding heart.She twisted, trying to turn her head, but the grip was unyielding. “Where are you taking me?” she yelled at the beast.Dragon Zylas answered with a roar—a gut-rattling sound that made her ears ring. Around her, the fog was still thick, high up in the sky. She couldn’t see anything else. Were they still above the prison compound?She struggled against the talons again, but it was futile. Not even her tattoos could help her now. They had sun
GILDEONThe apparition stalking toward him wore Commander Haemos’s shape. The details wavered and blurred, but Gildeon could still make out the rage-twisted expression on the ghostly face. Haemos’s fog sword flashed through the mist, a broad arc aimed straight at him.Gildeon shot backward, his eyes darting to Arah. She was squaring off against a spectral enemy of her own. He already knew Drusden was using their fears and regrets against them. But who could be Arah’s demon?Gildeon tensed, ready to rush to her side, but Fog Haemos cut him off, blade slashing in a tight swing. He ducked, but not fast enough. Steel bit into his shoulder. He grunted, blood spilling onto his hide. He’d been too distracted by Arah to harden his dragon scales in time.With a snarl, he wrapped his clawed hand around the fog blade, yanking it free from his shoulder. Agony rippled through him, but he didn’t flinch. Muscles strained as he drove the sword back into the ghostly figure, the force sending Fog Haemo
ARAHThe moment her fingertips brushed his beastly face, a cold shock slammed into her, so sharp it stole the breath from her lungs. Her vision blurred, darkness swallowed her whole, and before she could resist, her eyes fluttered shut—When she opened them again, she was somewhere else. Her breath hitched as she took in the sight around her.Corpses.Men. Women. Children.Her people.Arah’s stomach twisted. Sylph bodies lay scattered across the blood-streaked ground. Their lifeless blue eyes stared into nothing. Some bore deep claw marks, some were nearly split in two, and others had been brutally ripped apart, as if a pack of rabid wolves had torn through them.The village lay in ruins, smothered by the stench of death. Salamander warriors moved through the carnage, their heavy footsteps crunching over bodies—as if to ensure no one had survived.Tears welled in her eyes. This wasn’t a noble battle. This was a massacre.A few feet away, she spotted Gildeon in his leather armor. His b
ARAHFear coiled around her ribs like a vice.“I-it’s me,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.Gildeon didn’t flinch. His lips remained curled back, exposing sharp teeth. His expression was predatory, enraged. In his eyes, she was someone else—an enemy.What had Drusden done to him?She tried to choke out his name again, but her throat tightened, the pressure crushing her windpipe. Her pulse pounded—a frantic drumbeat against his grip. The steam curling from his scaled body rolled over her in suffocating, blistering waves.How the hell was she supposed to stop this?Through tear-blurred eyes, Arah caught a flicker of movement—an outline shifting, pulsing like a mirage behind Gildeon. Her eyes widened as she remembered her creature-helper.Gildeon hissed, his body tensing as his free hand shot back, claws poised to seize whatever had latched onto him. The creature clung to his neck, jaws clenched, its form flickering in and out of focus.The grip around Arah’s throat sl