Chapter Fourteen
384 Words
The aftermath of the battle left the palace grounds soaked in blood and heavy silence. The air was thick with smoke and the faint cries of the wounded, but Lyanna barely noticed. Her eyes were on Kieran, who stood beside her with blood on his hands and a storm in his gaze.
They had won—for now. But the threat wasn’t over.
“We need to talk,” Kieran said, his voice low, drawing her away from the chaos. They slipped into one of the quieter halls of the palace, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the walls.
“What is it?” Lyanna asked.
He hesitated. “The prophecy. There’s more to it… something my parents never told me.”
Lyanna’s heart skipped. “More?”
Kieran nodded. “It wasn’t just about a girl saving our kind. It said that she would have to choose between the crown… and love.”
The words hit her like a blow. She turned to him, her thoughts a whirlwind. “And what if I don’t want to choose?”
He stepped closer. “Then destiny might choose for you.”
Before she could respond, a loud crack echoed through the hall—like lightning splitting the sky. They both turned sharply just as Elira burst through the doors, her face pale.
“They’ve taken Celestia,” she said breathlessly. “The hunters… they’re regrouping, and they took her as bait.”
Kieran’s jaw clenched. “She was careless.”
But Lyanna saw something else in his eyes. Not love. Not regret. Guilt. And she knew then—Celestia’s capture wasn’t just a tactic. It was a trap.
A trap meant for Lyanna.
“We can’t go after her,” Elira warned. “That’s what they want.”
Kieran looked at Lyanna, the weight of leadership in his gaze. “But we can’t leave her either.”
Lyanna stood tall. “Then we don’t play by their rules. We make our own.”
As the moon rose above them, casting a silvery glow over the palace, Lyanna felt the prophecy pressing in—looming like a shadow. But she wouldn’t let it define her.
Not when she was just beginning to understand the power within her.
Not when she had something worth fighting for.
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