Lysandra stood among the fallen soldiers, her breath steady. The forest was silent again, save for the rustling of the wind through the trees. The last survivor had fled, no doubt rushing to report back to his master.
Prince Kastian.
The name echoed in her mind.
She had spent years running from those who sought to control her. But this time was different.
This time, she would not run.
A Summon from the Shadows
Far beyond the trees, in the heart of the kingdom, Prince Kastian stood in his private chambers, staring at the flickering candlelight.
A messenger knelt before him, breathless from his frantic journey. "Your Highness… she's awakened."
Kastian's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.
He had known this day would come.
For years, he had felt the pull of the curse—the way the shadows whispered in his blood. The way they longed for something… someone.
Lysandra.
She was the missing piece in this twisted fate, the key to unlocking what had been sealed away for generations.
He turned to the messenger, his voice calm but firm.
"Tell the men to fall back."
The messenger hesitated. "But, Your Highness—"
Kastian's gaze sharpened. "She will not be hunted like a common fugitive. If she wants to find me, she will."
He could feel it already.
She was coming.
The Invitation
Back in the forest, Lysandra wiped her dagger clean and tucked it away. The night air felt different now—charged, expectant.
Then, a whisper rode the wind. Not spoken, not heard—felt.
A calling.
An invitation.
Her eyes narrowed. The prince was no fool. He wasn't chasing her.
He was waiting for her.
She exhaled slowly, her decision made.
Let the games begin.