Aurea hadn't slept.
After the storm-marked stranger disappeared into the trees, she stumbled back to the village, shaking and barefoot, mud on her hem and fire on her skin. No one saw her. No one questioned her. They were too busy dancing under the stars, still caught in the illusion of peace.
But Aurea was not at peace.
She stood before the mirror in her tiny loft room above the apothecary shop where she lived with her uncle. Her nightgown had been torn at the shoulder, exposing the glowing sigils on her collarbone. Storm-blue still pulsed like lightning veins. The other two—shadow-black and celestial gold—remained dull, sleeping.
Waiting.
She ran her fingers over the markings, expecting them to feel like burns. But her skin was smooth. Soft. As if nothing had changed. As if her world hadn't been turned upside down and bound to three strangers she'd never met.
I don't want this, she thought, gripping the sink until her knuckles whitened. I didn't ask for this.
Then why did it feel like part of her had always known?
---
The village was quiet by morning. Mist crept low over the cobblestone paths as Aurea slipped out before dawn, cloak drawn tight, trying to outrun the weight pressing on her chest. She didn't know where she was going—just that she needed to move. To breathe. To think without feeling like she was being watched.
But she was being watched.
She felt it.
A presence not as loud as the storm-born man from last night, but colder. More precise. Like a dagger against the spine just before the plunge.
She stopped walking.
The path ahead turned into the woods again—deeper this time. Wilder. The kind of forest even children were taught to avoid.
And yet…
Her feet carried her forward.
The trees closed in around her. Sunlight thinned. Shadows thickened. A silence settled, so complete it made her ears ring.
Then she heard it—
A whisper. A breath that didn't belong to her. A presence behind her.
She spun around.
No one.
"Show yourself!" she demanded, voice shaking. "I know you're there!"
Silence.
And then, a voice—smooth as silk and twice as dangerous—came from behind her, though no breath touched her skin.
"How clever of you."
She turned again—and this time he was there.
Leaning against a twisted black tree like he belonged to it. Dressed in layered midnight leathers, hood down, face pale as moonlight and lips curled in an amused smirk.
His eyes were obsidian. Bottomless.
And they glowed faintly in the dark.
"Kael," he said, inclining his head in mock courtesy. "Second of your three fates."
"You—what?" she stammered, stepping back.
But he was in front of her again.
Too close.
"You've already met the storm brute, haven't you?" he asked. "Arrogant, loud, a hammer trying to be a man."
Aurea tried to keep her breathing steady. "Don't come any closer."
His smile deepened, sharp as a blade. "You think I need to?"
In the blink of an eye, he vanished—then reappeared behind her, whispering into her ear, "I'm already where I need to be."
Aurea turned and slapped him—hard.
The sound echoed like thunder through the trees.
Kael's head turned with the force of it. He paused. Blinked. Then touched his cheek with something like awe.
"...You're more fun than I expected."
Aurea's hands were shaking, but she stood her ground. "You said you were my fate. I never asked for you."
"No," Kael said softly. "But I asked for you."
Her breath caught.
"What?"
He stepped close again, but slower this time. His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "I was the first to dream of you. Before the Oracle awoke. Before the marks. I saw your face in the dark… and I knew."
"Knew what?"
"That you would be mine. That you would be all of ours."
Aurea wanted to run. Wanted to scream. But his voice held her like silk cords, wrapping around her heart.
"You'll come to understand," he said gently. "There are things even the gods fear. And you… are one of them now."
She shook her head. "I just want to be normal."
Kael tilted his head. "Normal girls don't glow when kissed by starlight. Normal girls don't carry three pieces of a broken prophecy."
"And what exactly does that mean?"
But he only smiled again.
"Next time, don't come into the dark unless you're ready to see what stares back."
Then—like a shadow stretching and vanishing with the wind—he was gone.
Aurea stood alone.
Except she wasn't.
Because now, the second mark on her chest—shadow-black—was glowing.