Kian’s pov
For days, I kept my shirt buttoned high, even when I was alone. The mark on my chest had stopped burning, but I couldn’t stop staring at it. It was dark brown now, shaped like a crescent. At first, I thought it was a scar, but scars didn’t hum with warmth under your skin.
No one noticed. Not my father, not the guards, not even Sara, though she was too busy playing Luna and frolicking with my men to care what was happening beneath my shirt. Still, I caught myself checking mirrors, tracing the mark with my fingers whenever I had a moment alone. It was quiet now, no glow, no pain… just there, like a secret only I knew.
I thought about going back to the woman by the river, asking her what this meant; if it was another curse, or something worse. But then I remembered her warning:
