CHAPTER 9: Whispers of Destiny

Kyara's POV

The silver ring glinted ominously in my palm as if it held its light. Silverblood. The word etched inside felt heavy, far heavier than it should have. My fingers trembled as I curled them around the band, hiding them from view. My heart thundered in my chest, and the shadows within me stirred with uneasy recognition.

Victor had left this behind. He wanted me to find it.

The village around me was a blur of movement—warriors tending to the wounded, mothers cradling frightened children, and the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air. But none of it registered. I focused on the ring and the faint hum of power it seemed to emit.

“Kyara.”

Eric’s voice brought me back. Low and commanding, it was laced with the quiet concern he tried to mask. I turned to find him standing just a few paces away, his dark eyes locked on mine. His shirt was torn and streaked with blood, though most of it wasn’t his own. His stance was firm, but his expression revealed his tiredness.

"What's that?" he questioned, looking at my clenched fist.

"Nothing," I immediately replied, sliding the ring into my pocket.

Eric raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. “You’re a terrible liar.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could, Darius approached, his massive wolf form shifting back into his human one. His face was hard as he glanced between us. “The fires are under control, but the enemy’s trail vanishes past the river,” he reported.

Eric nodded, his expression darkening. “And the casualties?”

Darius hesitated, and my stomach sank. “Six dead. A dozen more were injured. It could have been worse if Kyara hadn’t held Victor back.”

Eric’s jaw clenched, and his attention returned to me. “You shouldn’t have faced him alone.”

I bristled at his tone, crossing my arms. “And you shouldn’t have been unconscious,” I shot back.

For a second, a flicker of amusement crossed his face, but it was gone almost instantly. “This isn’t a game, Kyara. Victor won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

I took a step closer, meeting his gaze. “Neither will I.”

His eyes softened slightly, the tension in his shoulders loosening. “You’re reckless,” he said quietly.

“And you’re overbearing,” I retorted.

The faintest smirk tugged at his lips, and for a moment, the chaos around us seemed to fade. But then Darius cleared his throat, breaking the spell.

“We need to regroup,” Darius said. “And figure out why Victor attacked now of all times.”

Eric nodded, his commanding demeanor returning. “We’ll meet in the council chamber.”

As Darius walked away, Eric turned back to me. His hand brushed against mine, the contact brief but electric. “Stay close,” he murmured before following Darius.

I watched him go, my chest tightening with emotions I couldn’t name. For all his coldness, Eric had a way of grounding me—a steady presence in the storm that my life had become.

But the ring in my pocket felt like a weight pulling me down.

The council chamber was darkly lit, with burning wood and iron aroma permeating the atmosphere. Eric stood at the head of the table, leading the assembled soldiers. I sat silently in the corner, tracing the edges of the ring secreted in my pocket.

"We're dealing with more than just Victor," Eric stated, his strong voice echoing across the room. "His power has risen. That attack was deliberate, not random."

Rena's words rang in my head: The line between savior and destruction is thinner than you believe.

"What does he want with her?" Darius asked, gesturing towards me.

Eric’s gaze flicked to mine, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between us. “Control,” he said simply. “Victor thrives on it. He sees Kyara as a weapon—a tool to solidify his power.”

“I’m not a weapon,” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos in my chest.

Eric’s lips pressed into a thin line. No, you are not. But it doesn't guarantee he won't try to manipulate you."

The room went quiet, as anxiety filled the air.

Eventually, one of the warriors spoke up. "So what's the plan?"

Eric's gaze scanned the room. “We fortify the village. Double the patrols. No one enters or leaves without clearance.”

“And Kyara?” Darius asked.

Eric’s eyes locked on mine. “She stays close to me.”

My heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze. There was no room for argument in his tone, but it wasn’t just about strategy. There was something else there—something he wasn’t saying.

Later that night, I found myself standing at the margin of the woods, a cold air brushing over my skin. The village seemed peaceful today, but recollections of the struggle persisted in the back of my mind.

The ring sat in my pocket like a brand.

I pulled it out, holding it up to the moonlight. The etching inside—Silverblood—seemed to pulse with a faint glow. The shadows within me stirred again, whispering their dark promises.

“Thinking about running?”

Eric's words dazed me, and I turned around to see him cheerfully lounging against a tree. His arms were crossed, and his face was beyond comprehension.

"No," I said immediately, putting the ring back in my pocket. "Just… thinking."

He moved closer, his presence dominating the calm night. "You're hiding something."

I looked aside, my fingers clenching into fists. "And you're overbearing," I remarked, repeating my earlier statement.

He smiled broadly, the corner of his lips curving upward. "You already said that."

We were still for a minute, the tension between us nearly contagious.

"Why do you care?" Finally, I asked, barely raising my voice above a whisper.

Eric's presence softened, and for the first time, I noticed vulnerability in his eyes. "Because you matter the most," he stated.

My breath got lodged in my throat, and I couldn't move.

A rustle in the woods interrupted the moment before I could even react. Eric's body tightened and his senses were on high alert.

"Stay behind me," he said, his voice low and powerful.

My heart sank as a figure emerged from the darkness.

It was Rena.

Her eyes gleamed slightly in the moonlight, and her face was inscrutable. "We need to talk," she continued, her voice calm yet urgent.

Eric stepped forward, his stance protective. “You have a lot to answer for, Rena.”

She ignored him, her gaze fixed on me. “Kyara, there’s something you need to see.”

“What is it?” I asked, my voice wary.

Rena slipped into her coat and retrieved a small, delicately carved box. She held it out to me, her look serious.

"This is your birthright," she stated.

Eric hissed quietly in his throat. "What game are you playing now?"

Rena's gaze briefly shifted to him before returning to mine. "It's not a game. It is the truth.

I paused, my fingertips hanging above the box. Something inside me urged me to open it, but another part was keen to toss it away.

"Don't," Eric exhorted, his tone tough.

Worse luck, it was too late. My fingers brushed over the box, and the moment I touched it, a strong rush of energy went through me, sending me to my knees. 

The world blurred around me, and I found myself in an unusual scene—a barren wasteland brightened by blood-red light. Shadows swirled around me, summoning my name. Shadows danced about me, screaming out my name.

Victor stood at the heart of it all, his golden eyes beaming with pride.

"Welcome home, Silverblood," he whispers, his voice echoing like a thunderstorm.