The room was silent.Aisha slowly opened her eyes. The ceiling was white, the walls smooth. A dim lamp hung from the ceiling, flickering as if it shared her confusion. The air smelled of alcohol, dust… and lavender.She tried to sit up, but the movement made her groan. Everything hurt. Her body didn't feel like her own.
"Easy..." said a soft voice beside her.
Lionel sat in a chair, dark circles under his gray eyes. He was still wearing the same jacket from days before. When Aisha tried to speak, only a faint gasp escaped her.
"You're safe. For now."
She looked at him in silence. Words clung to her throat, as if fear still had claws inside her.She sat up with effort. Her skin felt warm—but not from fever. It was something else. A vibration. A quiet fire.
A new heartbeat.
"Where are we?" she whispered.
"Temporary shelter. A place with no name. No one will find us here—for now."
Aisha lowered her gaze. Her wrists still bore the marks of chains. But what disturbed her most was the mark on her collarbone. It used to be faint, almost invisible… now it burned with a soft crimson glow, as if her flesh was breathing.
"This wasn't like this before…"
"Sanathiel marked you, didn't he?" Lionel asked, voice tense.
Aisha didn't answer. She placed a hand on her chest. Her heart beat slow and deep. As if she wasn't alone.
"There's something inside me…" she whispered.
Lionel frowned, approaching. She stopped him with a gesture."Don't touch me," she said, startled by her own tone. Since when did her voice carry such edge? Lionel obeyed.
She rose with effort. Walked to the bathroom mirror. What she saw stole her breath: her skin shimmered in certain places, as if ancient runes were trying to surface. There was something new in her eyes—something not entirely human.
What did he do to me? —she murmured, touching her abdomen.Lionel held his breath. He knew what those words hinted at.It wasn't a child…It was the Kerens vow reborn within her.
A chill ran down her spine.She wasn't wounded. She had no fever. But something was growing inside her.
A silent presence.An echo of the night when the white wolf touched her—without knowing what he sealed.
Far away, on the balcony of the Thirteen's domain, Sanathiel opened his eyes.His breath quickened, as if sensing a reflection in the distance. The mark on his chest pulsed, responding to something unseen.
"Aisha…?" he whispered into the wind.
But it wasn't just her name. It was the trace of his blood.A new thread connected them.Not of hate. Not of vengeance.Of life.
"Any word on Salomon?" Sanathiel asked without turning.
"Movement in Losaré. More than word—it's a warning," Noah replied. "Lionel isn't the only one playing hero. The huntress has allies you wouldn't imagine."
Sanathiel turned slowly. His crimson eyes glowed with intensity.
"Fate always finds a way to intertwine us. Lionel brought me to her, and now… I won't let her go."
Meanwhile, in the mansion:
"Why do you always have to take what I want, Sanathiel?" Lionel muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes burning with resentment.
Outside, the sky began to cloud.An invisible storm loomed over his soul.
He remembered—"I'd rather disappear. I lived a lie…"
The image of himself at the edge of the bridge still haunted him. The cold wind. The abyss at his feet. Nothing tethered him to this world… until he felt a sweaty hand on his shoulder.
"I don't know your reasons, but pain is only mental. Don't make a mistake by jumping."He turned… and saw her.
Aisha.Not with pity. Not with sympathy. But with resolve.Her voice, soft yet firm, pierced the darkness inside him.
"What are you doing here?" Lionel snapped, hiding the tremor in his voice.
"Do you think I care if I like you? I just know you shouldn't be here," she replied, unafraid.
After that, they began meeting more often.At the bridge's rail.On the park stairs.Beneath trees that whispered silent truths.
"Do you come here often, Aisha?" he asked one afternoon, feigning disinterest.
"Here I can be free. Clear my mind. The view fascinates me, Lionel," she answered, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Then, without warning, she hugged him.
"Don't be ashamed. A hug shouldn't be denied to anyone. It always comforts me. Remember that, Lionel."
That moment sealed something in his chest.Broke him… and rebuilt him.
"Smile just like I do. Deal, Lio?"
But nothing lasts forever.
Soon after, Sanathiel tore him from that fragile peace.With cold words. Eyes that accepted no reply.
"That girl… you shouldn't get involved in what you don't understand."
And Lionel knew—Sanathiel didn't speak of Aisha as a whim.He looked at her as a right. A destiny.
But not this time.He wouldn't allow it.
Noah watched from the shadows, his crooked smile dripping cynicism.
"Do you think you can save her, Lionel? It's too late for both of you," he muttered, vanishing like cursed mist.
Lionel didn't reply. He walked to the cage.Aisha still lay unconscious, her breathing ragged.Her face bruised, yet still strong—even in sleep.
He knelt, carefully lifting her into his arms.
"Aisha… this time, I won't let you go," he whispered—A promise made not just to her,But to the broken boy who once stood at the edge of the abyss…And was saved by a stranger with fire in her eyes.
This time, he would be the one to hold her.And he wouldn't let anyone—Not even Sanathiel—take her away.
Aisha sat back on the bed.Her hands trembled over her abdomen.
"Does it hurt?" Lionel asked, worried.
She slowly shook her head."No… not yet."
But she said no more.Some truths need silence to grow.