The rain refused to stop.
It hammered against the mouth of the cave, filling the night with a constant roar that echoed through the stone walls.
Water dripped from the ceiling in slow, steady rhythms, gathering in shallow puddles along the floor.
The air smelled of wet earth, smoke, and pine.
For the first time since I had fled Blackfang, I wasn’t running.
I wasn’t hiding.
I wasn’t fighting for my life.
I was simply sitting beside a fire, listening as everything I thought I knew about myself fell apart.
The flames crackled softly between us.
Vance sat across from me, his broad shoulders rigid, the silver dagger resting across his lap.
The blade caught the firelight every few seconds, flashing like a piece of trapped moonlight.
Every word he spoke felt heavier than the last.
“The Kingdom of Astravia existed long before the Alpha Packs rose to power,” he said quietly.
His deep voice blended with the sound of the storm outside.
“Back then, Elyndra wasn’t divided by borders and territories.
The land stood united.
There were no endless pack wars.
No Alphas fighting over power.” I stared into the fire.
Astravia.
The name felt strange.
Yet somehow familiar.
Like a forgotten memory hidden somewhere deep inside me.
“The royal bloodline carried Silver Magic,” Vance continued.
“Not the kind of power used to dominate others.
Their gift was different.
They protected.
They healed.
They brought people together.” His jaw tightened.
“And that frightened the Alphas.” I looked up.
“Why?” His answer came without hesitation.
“Because people who crave power fear anything they can’t control.” The fire popped loudly.
A shower of sparks rose into the darkness.
“The Alphas wanted kingdoms divided,” Vance said.
“They wanted territory.
Influence.
Obedience.
The royal family stood in their way.” Silence settled between us.
Then his expression darkened.
“So they destroyed them.” The Night of Ashes.
That was what the history books called it.
But according to Vance, the books were lies.
He told me about betrayal.
About trusted nobles opening palace gates in exchange for power.
About royal guards dying in the corridors they had sworn to protect.
About innocent families burned alive while they slept.
About children murdered simply because royal blood ran through their veins.
By dawn, the capital was gone.
Reduced to ash, blood, and ruins.
A bloodline erased from history.
Or so everyone believed.
My throat tightened painfully.
“And my mother?” The question barely escaped my lips.
Vance lifted his eyes to meet mine.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he answered.
“Princess Seraphina was the last surviving heir.” The words shattered something inside me.
All my life, I had believed my mother abandoned me.
The elders called her a rogue.
The servants whispered that she had thrown her child away.
Even the Alpha treated her name like a stain.
For twenty-two years, I convinced myself she never wanted me.
But none of it was true.
She hadn’t abandoned me.
She had saved me.
A painful ache spread through my chest.
Before I could stop them, tears slipped down my cheeks.
Hot.
Silent.
Relentless.
My mother had sacrificed everything.
Her home.
Her title.
Her future.
Her life.
All so I could survive.
I lowered my head, trying to hide the tears.
It didn’t help.
They kept falling anyway.
Vance remained silent for a long time.
Then he spoke again.
“You have her eyes.” I looked up.
“The same silver eyes,” he said quietly.
“The same fire.” My chest tightened even more.
How was I supposed to respond to that?
I had spent my entire life believing I came from nothing.
Now I was learning I carried the legacy of a lost kingdom.
Outside, thunder rolled across the mountains.
The cave trembled slightly.
But something else was happening.
A strange sickness twisted inside my stomach.
At first, I ignored it.
Stress.
Exhaustion.
Grief.
It had to be one of those things.
But the feeling kept growing.
Cold sweat formed on my forehead.
The fire suddenly felt too hot.
The smoke too thick.
The cave began to spin around me.
I grabbed my ribs and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Aria?” Vance was already on his feet.
“I’m fine.” The lie sounded weak even to me.
Another wave hit.
Harder.
My stomach lurched violently.
I barely managed to turn away before I doubled over.
Nothing came up.
There was nothing left in my stomach.
Only painful dry heaving that left my entire body shaking.
My ribs screamed.
My lungs burned.
And underneath it all was something worse.
A frightening emptiness.
As if something deep inside me was draining every bit of strength I had left.
Vance crossed the distance between us immediately.
“You’re not fine.” “I’m just tired.” “No.” His voice was calm.
Certain.
“This isn’t exhaustion.” Panic surged through me.
I tried to move away.
Tried to hide.
But I was too slow.
His hand closed around my wrist.
The moment our skin touched, silver energy flowed into my veins.
Ancient.
Powerful.
Searching.
My entire body froze.
No.
Please.
Not now.
For several endless seconds, Vance remained completely still.
His eyes closed.
Concentrating.
Feeling.
Then suddenly— His entire body went rigid.
His eyes snapped open.
Shock flooded his face.
Not suspicion.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
Slowly, his gaze dropped.
Down.
Lower.
Until it settled directly on my stomach.
The cave fell silent.
Even the storm seemed distant.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t move.
When Vance finally looked back at me, something had changed in his expression.
Disbelief.
Fear.
And awe.
“Aria…” His voice sounded unsteady.
“What have you been hiding from me?” My blood turned cold.
Without thinking, both of my hands moved protectively over my stomach.
The gesture was enough.
Vance’s eyes widened.
The truth was written all over my face.
Neither of us spoke.
Outside, lightning split the sky.
Thunder shook the mountains.
The fire flickered between us.
And in that terrible silence, I realized there was no point denying it anymore.
The secret I had fought so desperately to protect was finally exposed.
Vance knew.
He knew about the babies.
And judging by the look on his face, their existence was far more important—and far more dangerous—than I had ever imagined.