The air between us was thick with unspoken words. The flickering fire cast dancing shadows on the stone walls, and the tension in the room curled around us like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.
I had just laid it all out. My reckless, desperate plan. The need burning inside me to uncover the truth, to finally understand why we bore these marks, why we were forced to kill to live.
This wasn't fate. It couldn't be.
I lifted my chin. "Then I'll find out the truth myself."
Killian's golden eyes narrowed. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
Killian sat in silence, his gaze unreadable as he leaned back against the edge of the table, arms crossed over his chest. The golden glow of the firelight caught the sharp angles of his face, making him look almost otherworldly.
Then he exhaled, shaking his head. "You do realize what you're saying, don't you?" His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it, like he was trying to gauge just how serious I was.
I took a step forward, closing the space between us. "I do,If the mark existed before we were born, before we even took our first breath, then it means someone—somewhere—started all of this. If there was a beginning, there has to be an end."" I said, holding his gaze. "And I'm asking if you're with me. Or if you'd rather end this here and now."
Killian tilted his head slightly, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. "You're offering me a choice?"
I clenched my fists. "It's the only thing I've never been given."
Something flickered in his eyes—something dangerous and unreadable. He pushed off the table and took a slow step toward me. "You want to uncover the truth about the marks. About why they exist."
"Yes."
"And you're willing to risk everything?" His voice was softer now, almost curious.
"I have nothing left to lose."
Killian studied me for a long moment, his expression impossible to decipher. Then, without warning, he moved. In an instant, he was right in front of me, close enough that I could see the gold flecks in his dark eyes. My heart hammered, but I stood my ground.
"You think you're ready for this?" he murmured.
"More than anything."
A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. "Then let's see if we survive it."
We started moving,
The castle was eerily quiet, the torches lining the corridors burning low, casting long, flickering shadows. Killian moved ahead of me, his steps soundless against the cold stone floor. He had been the one to insist on leaving immediately—said if we lingered any longer, someone would start asking questions.
I didn't argue.
The truth wasn't waiting for us in the safety of the castle walls.
We slipped through the gates unnoticed, the weight of the night pressing against us. The moment we were outside, a cold wind bit at my skin, but I barely felt it. My pulse was pounding too hard.
"Where do we start?" I asked as we mounted our horses. The question had been burning in my mind since last night, but now, under the vast stretch of the star-lit sky, it felt more urgent than ever.
Killian adjusted the strap of his sword across his back before turning to me. "We start where it began."
I frowned. "And where is that?"
His gaze was sharp, unwavering. "The ruins."
A chill crawled down my spine at the mention of them.
The ruins.
The place where it was said the first marked warriors had risen. A place no one dared venture.
Killian must have seen my hesitation because his smirk returned. "Still want to do this, little warrior?"
I straightened. "I already told you. I'm not afraid."
"Good," he said, gripping the reins. "Then try to keep up."
And with that, he kicked his horse forward, galloping into the darkness.
The journey to the ruins took two days.
The farther we traveled, the more the land changed. The forests became denser, the air heavier. The presence of life dwindled until the world around us felt eerily abandoned. It was as if the very earth refused to acknowledge this place.
"Tell me something," I said as we rode through a narrow mountain pass. "You knew about the warriors who tried to defy the mark. But you never told me where they disappeared."
Killian glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "I didn't think it mattered."
I narrowed my eyes. "And now?"
His grip on the reins tightened slightly. "Now, I think you already know the answer."
I did.
The ruins weren't just the place where the first marked warriors had emerged. They were also where the ones who questioned their fate had vanished.
Something deep in my gut twisted. "You think we'll find anything there?"
"I think," Killian said slowly, "If we don't, then we'll have bigger problems."
I didn't like the sound of that. But I didn't say anything else.
By nightfall, we reached the edge of the ruins.
They were worse than I had imagined.
Massive stone structures stood half-buried in the earth, their surfaces cracked and weathered with age. Blackened remnants of what might have once been towers stretched toward the sky, skeletal and broken. And the air—
It felt wrong.
Like the very atmosphere resisted our presence.
Killian dismounted first, his movements slower, more cautious. I followed, my fingers brushing against the hilt of my dagger as I surveyed the ruins.
"This place feels..." I trailed off, struggling to find the right word.
"Cursed?" Killian supplied.
I shot him a glare. "I was going to say unnatural."
"Same thing."
I rolled my eyes but didn't argue. He wasn't wrong.
We moved carefully through the ruins, the crunch of gravel beneath our boots the only sound. The deeper we went, the colder it became. It wasn't just the temperature. It was something else, something that settled in my bones.
Then I saw it.
A symbol.
Carved into the stone wall ahead of us, half-covered by moss and age, was a marking identical to the ones on our wrists.
My breath hitched. "Killian—"
"I see it," he said, stepping closer.
I reached out, brushing my fingers over the carving. It was old—older than anything I had ever seen. And yet, the edges were still sharp, as if it had been made yesterday.
Something about that sent a shiver down my spine.
"This is it," I whispered. "This is where it began."
Killian was silent beside me. Then, quietly, he said, "Then it's also where we'll find our answers."
I exhaled, steadying myself. "Are you ready for this?"
He gave me a look, one that was half amusement, half something else entirely. "Are you?"
I swallowed hard.
No.
But I had come too far to turn back now.
And if this place held the truth—the real truth—then I was prepared to face it.
Even if it destroyed me.