SKYBLOOD

CHAPTER 15 - Echoes of Betrayal

The eastern courtyard was already swarming with guards by the time Kael arrived. Lines of soldiers flanked the perimeter, weapons drawn, eyes sharp. Garron, Thorian, and Ronin stood near the stone fountain, all grim.

“What did they leave?” Kael asked.

Garron handed him a sealed strip of black parchment—thin, brittle, and reeking faintly of shadow magic.

“It was pinned to the outer gate,” he said. “No tracks. No scent. They moved like smoke.”

Kael cracked the seal.

Ink unfurled across the page as if it were alive—words written in a jagged, unnatural script.

We want what is ours.

The Vein calls out to us.

Bloodborne cannot protect the hidden one forever.

Kael’s jaw locked.

The hidden one.

Ronin stepped closer. “Your Majesty… they know she is here. That changes everything.”

“It changes nothing,” Kael said tightly. “We were already preparing for war.”

But the truth struck him hard.

This was no longer a war of borders.

No longer about dominion or territory.

This was personal.

And whoever the traitor inside the palace was—they were feeding the Shadows information.

Garron lowered his voice. “Miric had reinforced the perimeter wards. But the Shadows walked through last night as though the defenses were made of glass.”

Kael’s hand curled into a fist. “I want every commander in the war hall within the hour. And track anyone who had access to the southern armory.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Garron said.

He turned to march off—but Kael’s mind was no longer on the courtyard.

It was on the girl he had just left alone in the King’s Ward.

Lyra.

The mirror had reacted to her.

The shadows had recognized her.

And the look on her face when the reflection shifted…

Something inside him had pulled tight—instinctive, primal, protective.

His wolf growled low inside him now.

Why did he keep reacting to her this way?

Could there be something more?

She did not even possess a wolf, so a mate bond was out of the question.

Kael shut the thought down instantly.

He had already had a mate. Lost her. Buried her.

This was something else.

This pull was not the soul-binding magic of mates.

It was deeper, older.

And far more dangerous.

THE SEER ARRIVES

When Kael returned to the King’s Ward, Eloween was already there.

The Moon Seer stood before the obsidian mirror, her long silver braids brushing the floor, her white eyes half-glazed as she murmured in an older tongue.

Lyra stood a few feet behind her—alert but pale.

The mirror pulsed when Kael entered, shadows rippling as though they sensed him.

Eloween did not turn. “Your Majesty. You should see this.”

Kael stepped beside her.

The mirror’s dark fog had rearranged into a familiar shape—

Lyra’s silhouette.

But twisted.

Shadow-bound.

Crowned in darkness.

Lyra gasped softly behind him.

“What does it mean?” Kael asked, his voice hard.

Eloween finally turned to them.

“This girl is not merely wanted,” the Seer said. “She is claimed.”

Kael’s wolf snarled violently.

Lyra looked as though she had been struck. “Claimed by what?”

“Not by what,” Eloween corrected. “By who.”

Lightning crawled across the mirror’s surface.

Eloween’s voice dropped.

“There is an entity behind the Shadows. An ancient lieutenant of the Vein. A creature that once followed the old kings… before your bloodline imprisoned it.”

Kael’s blood turned to ice.

“You mean the Voidbound.”

Eloween nodded once.

“The Voidbound remembers your lineage; after all, they imprisoned it and became protectors of the Vein,” she said softly. “And it remembers… her.”

Lyra shook her head. “I have never seen it. I do not know it or what it wants.”

Eloween’s eyes softened with something close to pity.

“You do not need to know it,” she whispered. “But it recognizes you as a High Healer—and the power you carry within you.”

Kael stepped forward, placing himself slightly between Lyra and the mirror without thinking.

Her breath hitched behind him—but she did not move.

Eloween continued:

“The Voidbound seeks to complete what it began long ago—binding the Moonsong Healer to its will. Their magic is the one thing powerful enough to open the sealed path beneath this palace.”

Lyra whispered, “The Shadows want me to help them?”

“No,” Eloween said.

“They want to control you.”

Kael’s voice came out rough, low, dangerous:

“That will not happen.”

Eloween’s pale eyes met his.

“Then you must decide how far you are willing to go to prevent it.”

Silence fell—heavy.

Then Eloween tilted her head, as if listening to something only she could hear. When she spoke again, her voice carried a faint echo that was not entirely her own.

“Luana calls to you.”

Lyra blinked. “Luana? Who is Luana?”

Eloween closed her eyes briefly. “You will meet her in due course,” she said, her tone layered with certainty. “Listen to her. Embrace her. You will need her for what is to come.”

Lyra swallowed, shaky. “What is to come? Where do I find this Luana?”

“She will find you… when the time is right.”

Another pulse of lightning flared inside the mirror, as if reacting to the name.

Eloween stepped back, letting the vision dissolve into swirling fog.

She turned away from the mirror, her white eyes dimming.

“Prepare yourselves.”

Without another word, the Moon Seer swept from the chamber, her silver braids whispering against the stone.

Silence settled behind her—deep, tense, and unbroken.

Kael did not move.

Lyra remained still, staring at the dark outline that mirrored her shape.

And when she finally spoke, her voice was small.

“Why did it look like me?”

Kael stepped closer—slow, deliberate.

“Because something ancient has marked you,” he said. “But that does not mean it owns you.”

Lyra swallowed. “Eloween thinks I am dangerous.”

“Eloween thinks you are powerful,” Kael corrected. “There is a difference.”

She met his eyes—and the air between them tightened again, that same magnetic pull he had felt before.

Her voice trembled. “What if I use my powers to help them?”

“You will not.”

“You do not know that.”

“I do.”

His wolf pushed forward, a low rumble of certainty.

Kael lowered his voice, stepping into her uncertainty with unwavering conviction.

“You saved me,” he said. “Your magic chose to protect, not destroy. I trust that.”

Lyra’s breath hitched.

“Who is Luana? How can she help? And when is the right time?”

Kael exhaled slowly. “I do not have all the answers,” he said. “But we will find them. Together.”

He stepped back suddenly, jaw tight, breaking the tension.

“We find the traitor,” he said quietly. “We stop the Shadows from reaching you.”

He turned toward the door—

But the mirror behind them pulsed once more.

This time, the shadowy version of Lyra slowly lifted its hand…

…and pointed toward Kael.

Kael’s pulse kicked hard—but he did not move.

Lyra did.

She stepped forward instinctively, placing herself slightly in front of him, as if her body could shield him. Her breath came shallow, trembling.

“Kael…” she whispered.

He did not tear his gaze from the mirror until it quieted, its surface no longer rippling with shadowy distortion, only glowing faintly like cooled embers beneath glass.

The room felt different now.

Softer.

Unsettled.

As if the prophecy it had shown was still breathing through the stones.

He reached out—one hand closing around Lyra’s arm, gentle but firm.

Her voice cracked. “But it looks like me, and it was pointing at you. What does that even mean—?”

“Lyra.”

He turned her fully toward him.

Her breath collided with his.

Her pulse raced under his fingertips.

His wolf lunged upward, instinct roaring through him—

Protect.

Claim.

Hold.

Kael swallowed the urge, but it lingered painfully beneath his skin.

Lyra looked up at him, eyes wide, shimmering. “Why would a shadow version of me point at you?”

“A message,” Kael said. “The mirror showed nothing until you stepped into the room.”

Her breath hitched.

Kael forced his voice low, steady. “The Voidbound wants you. And it knows the fastest way to break you is through me.”

Her lips parted. “It cannot—”

“Yes,” Kael said softly. “It can.”

Lyra shuddered.

And without thinking—because she looked as though she might shatter—Kael lifted his hand to her cheek, brushing away a loose strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

Her eyelids fluttered.

She leaned into the touch, just slightly.

“Kael…” Her whisper was fragile, trembling. “I am scared.”

He stepped closer, eliminating the space between them.

His thumb traced her cheek.

Her hands gently curled into his tunic.

“You are not alone,” he murmured. “I will not let anything touch you.”

Her breath hitched—sharp, almost a sob—

And she swayed closer, so close he could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his.

“Why do you care so much?” she breathed.

Kael froze.

Maybe it was the mirror’s glow or her nearness, but something inside him snapped.

Because his wolf recognized her.

Because something ancient that neither of them fully understood yet tied their powers together.

Because every moment she was near him felt like a storm pressing against its leash.

But he could not say any of that.

So he said the closest truth he could afford:

“Because when I look at you…”

His voice dipped, guttural.

“…I feel something I am not sure I am allowed to feel.”

Lyra’s eyes widened, shimmering with something soft and dangerous.

“Kael…” she whispered again, almost pleading.

He leaned in—

Not touching her lips, just a breath away—

Close enough to feel her warmth, her magic, her fear—

When suddenly—

CRACK.

The mirror split again.

A jagged fracture shot across the glass, slicing through.

Lyra gasped and clutched him instinctively.

Kael wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against him in a swift, protective grip.

Their bodies collided—her breath knocked into him, his heartbeat thundered against her ear.

For a moment, neither moved.

The mirror’s surface turned black.

Then still.

Then silent.

Lyra clung to him, trembling. “What does that mean?”

Kael did not let her go.

“It means,” he said quietly, “that whatever is coming… is coming soon.”

Lyra lifted her face to his chest, her voice muffled. “And if the Shadows try to take control of me…?”

Kael lowered his head to her temple, his breath brushing her skin.

“Then they will have to get through me first.”

She shivered.

But she did not let go.

And neither did he.