I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
Every time I closed my eyes, those corrupted silver eyes stared back at me through the dark.
The phantom smell of ash and burning blood lingered in the back of my throat, thick and suffocating.
When the first pale rays of morning finally broke through the wooden shutters of my cottage, the Silver Crest on my shoulder was still throbbing with a dull, residual heat.
My skin was raw, as if the brand had been freshly pressed into my flesh only hours ago.
A sharp knock at the door made me flinch.
Before I could answer, the door swung open.
Vance entered first, his hand automatically resting on the hilt of his sword, his sharp eyes scanning every corner of the room before he let his guard down.
Corin followed tightly behind him, his expression deeply lined with worry.
“You screamed,” Vance said, his voice flat but tightly wound.
“We heard you from the courtyard.” “It was a vision,” I whispered, pulling the heavy blanket tighter around my shoulders.
My voice sounded small, raspy from exhaustion.
“A man in black robes.
He had…
he had silver eyes, Corin.
But they weren’t like yours.
They looked dead.
Corrupted.” The color completely drained from Corin’s face.
He stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to examine the glowing skin beneath the collar of my shirt.
“The Dark Alchemist,” Corin murmured, his voice barely audible.
“It wasn’t a mere nightmare, Princess.
When your crest awakened yesterday, it released a pulse of ancient energy.
He felt it.
He used that brief, fleeting tether to brush against your mind.” Panic flared in my chest.
I instinctively pressed my hand against my stomach.
“Can he see me?
Does he know where we are?” “He cannot reach you yet, Princess.
But he knows you exist,” Corin said, trying to offer a reassuring look that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“The ancient wards of this valley are strong.
They successfully blocked his sight.
But he is searching, and he will not stop until he finds the source of that light.” An hour later, Corin led us out of the cottage and toward the northern edge of the valley.
The air was crisp and sweet, but I couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the sanctuary anymore.
Every silver leaf dancing in the wind felt like a countdown clock ticking away in the silence.
We stopped before a massive, open-air structure carved directly into the side of a white marble cliff.
The ancient training grounds of Astravia.
Huge stone pillars stretched toward the sky, many of them covered in glowing blue moss and ancient symbols I couldn’t read.
Towering statues of past kings and queens stood like silent sentinels around the perimeter, their stone eyes staring down at the empty courtyard.
As we walked through the grounds, I noticed the villagers standing at the edges.
They didn’t interrupt, but they watched us with a quiet, breathless intensity.
For twenty-three years, these people had lived in hiding, nursing the embers of a destroyed civilization.
They had never given up hope that the royal bloodline would return.
Now, they were looking at me.
The weight of their expectations felt heavy enough to crush my ribs.
They looked at me like a savior.
I still felt like a frightened girl pretending to be brave.
I was a kitchen maid who had spent her life scrubbing floors and dodging kicks.
How was I supposed to lead them against a monster?
“This is where the royal guard used to train,” Vance said, his eyes scanning the cracked stone floor.
For a brief moment, a flash of painful nostalgia crossed his face before it vanished behind his usual hardened mask.
“And this is where you must learn to survive,” Corin added, stepping into the center of a wide stone circle.
“The problem we face is simple, Aria,” Corin began, turning to face me.
“Royal blood naturally shines.
In the spiritual realm, your Silver Crest emits a magical scent so bright it acts as a beacon for anyone trained to look for it.
And now, with the twins…” He paused, looking down at my stomach.
“The children make it even stronger.
They are a combination of two powerful lineages.
As they grow, their energy will naturally leak outward.
Within a few months, enemy trackers will inevitably detect the anomaly from miles away, even through the valley’s wards.” I swallowed hard, the cold dread returning.
“Then how do we stop it?” “Through the Sacred Veil,” Corin explained.
“It is the oldest protective magic Astravia possesses.
It doesn’t destroy your power; it pulls it inward, wrapping it in a dense layer of spiritual mist.
It will hide your royal aura, mask the unique scent of your pregnancy, and hide your identity completely.
To the outside world, you will appear like an ordinary, low-ranking rogue wolf.
Powerless.
Unremarkable.” A faint, bitter smile touched my lips.
“An omega.
I’ve had twenty-two years of practice being unremarkable.” “Being invisible by choice is a weapon, Aria,” Corin said softly.
“A queen who survives learns when to hide her crown.” The first lesson was an absolute disaster.
Corin instructed me to sit in the center of the stone circle, crossing my legs and closing my eyes.
“Do not force the magic,” his calm voice echoed in the quiet air.
“Breathe.
Feel the heat of the Silver Crest on your shoulder.
Now, instead of letting that heat radiate outward, imagine pulling it down.
Wrap it tightly around your core.
Protect it.” I closed my eyes and tried to focus.
I found the spark of silver magic inside my chest—it felt like a wild, living flame, burning bright and chaotic.
Beneath that flame, I felt the twins.
For the first time, I felt both babies clearly responding to my touch.
But they weren’t the same.
One felt perfectly calm, a soothing, steady presence that felt like a quiet lake.
The other felt fierce, a wild, aggressive spark that slammed against my awareness like an angry wave.
An Alpha’s temper, inherited straight from Kael.
The moment I tried to pull the magic inward, the fierce twin reacted.
It didn’t want to be hidden.
It wanted to fight.
The sudden surge of wild Alpha energy clashed violently with the royal silver light.
“Aria, control it!” Vance warned.
But it was too late.
The magic slipped from my grip like wild water.
Boom.
A violent shockwave of pure silver light exploded from my body.
The ancient training grounds shook violently, dust and pebbles raining down from the high arches.
The blue moss on the pillars flared into a blinding, neon glare before short-circuiting into darkness.
The villagers at the edge screamed, scattering backward in panic as the ground cracked beneath my feet.
I fell backward onto my hands, gasping for air, my chest burning as the silver light finally dissipated into the morning air.
My heart was hammering against my ribs, and my hands were shaking violently.
“I can’t,” I choked out, tears of frustration stinging my eyes.
“I can’t control it.
There are too many forces inside me.
I’m not strong enough.” Corin let out a long, tired sigh, looking at the cracked stone floor with a grim expression.
Vance stepped into the circle, standing over me like a shadow.
He didn’t offer a hand to help me up.
His silver eyes were completely devoid of pity.
“Good,” Vance said harshly, his voice cutting through my self-pity like a knife.
“Now stop crying about it and try again.” I looked up at him, shocked by his coldness.
“Vance, I almost collapsed the pillars—” “The enemy won’t wait for you to feel ready, Aria,” Vance interrupted, his tone unyielding.
Then, he knelt down until he was at eye level with me, his expression softening just a fraction.
“Queens aren’t born, Aria.
They’re forged.
In fire.
In pain.
If you break this easily, you won’t survive the first week outside these walls.” I stared at him, the sting of his words burning hotter than the magic.
But deep down, I knew he was right.
I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand, gritted my teeth, and pushed myself back into a sitting position.
“Again,” I muttered.
That same night.
Far outside the sacred sanctuary, deep within the freezing, jagged ridges of the Whispering Mountains, the storm had completely cleared.
The moon shone brightly over the snow-covered peaks, casting long, eerie shadows across the wilderness.
Three hooded figures slipped silently through the trees.
They moved with unnatural speed, their faces completely hidden beneath heavy, dark cloths that smelled of old blood and rusted iron.
The lead figure suddenly stopped, dropping to one knee in a clearing.
He pulled back his dark glove, pressing his bare palm against a patch of scorched earth beneath the snow.
He closed his eyes, tilting his head as if listening to a frequency no human or wolf could ever hear.
A heavy, suffocating darkness seemed to bleed from his robes, freezing the grass around his knees instantly.
For a long time, there was only silence.
Then, the lead tracker opened his eyes, his breath misting in the cold.
“The trail is weak,” he whispered, his voice sounding like dry leaves scraping against a grave.
“The ancient wards are masking the source.” The second figure stepped forward, his eyes gleaming hollowly beneath his hood.
“But it exists.
The resonance from last night was real.” The lead tracker slowly rose to his feet, a twisted, dark smile forming beneath his mask.
“The bloodline survived.” A moment later, a distant, unseen voice echoed directly inside his mind—cold, ancient, and dripping with absolute malice from the deep dark where it waited.
“Find her.” [END OF CHAPTER 19]