For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Zyra and Kieran could breathe.
The night air was crisp, filled with the scent of damp earth and burning embers. The Abyss had spat them out, leaving them sprawled in the middle of a ruined battlefield. Cracked stone stretched beneath them, the remnants of an ancient temple long lost to time.
Zyra's pulse thundered in her ears as she lay there, staring up at the endless sky. The stars above looked wrong.
Distant. Blurred. Like they didn't belong to this world.
Kieran shifted beside her, the heat of his body grounding her in reality. His golden eyes met hers, searching. "You okay?" His voice was rough, breathless, but real.
She swallowed hard. "I should be asking you that."
He gave a crooked grin, but there was exhaustion behind it. "I've had worse landings."
That was a lie.
They had just escaped the Abyss. No one made it out of that place. No one walked away.
Yet here they were.
Zyra sat up, her fingers twitching as she scanned their surroundings. The land was scarred. The ruins around them bore the marks of battle—one not yet fought.
Kieran followed her gaze, his jaw tightening. "This place…"
Zyra knew what he was thinking.
It was the battlefield from her vision.
---
The Weight of Fate
A chill ran down her spine. This wasn't just any battlefield.
It was the place where she had seen Kieran broken at her feet. Where she had seen herself standing in the wake of destruction—flames licking at her fingers, his blood on her hands.
She forced herself to breathe, to focus on the now.
Kieran is here. Alive. This hasn't happened yet.
A hand brushed against hers, grounding her. "We're not letting it happen." His voice was steady, as if reading her thoughts.
Her throat tightened. "You don't know that."
"I do."
He turned fully toward her, his expression fierce. "You saw a future, not our future." His fingers curled around hers, firm and unyielding. "We decide what happens, Zyra. Not fate. Not the Abyss. Us."
The intensity in his voice sent a shiver through her.
She wanted to believe him.
But fate had brought them together. Fate had marked them as fated mates.
And fate demanded a price.
She exhaled sharply, pushing back the doubts. "Then we need to move. If this place is real, it means we're still in danger."
Kieran nodded. "Agreed." He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over her cheek. "Can you stand?"
The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her, something fierce and undeniable.
But she shoved it down, ignoring the way her body reacted to him.
"I'm fine," she muttered, pushing herself to her feet.
Kieran followed, though she noticed the slight wince he tried to hide. He was hurt.
Before she could say anything, a sharp gust of wind howled through the ruins—unnatural.
They both froze.
The air shifted.
And then—
They were no longer alone.
---
The Hunters Arrive
Figures emerged from the shadows, their presence heavy with power. Too many.
Zyra's stomach twisted.
She recognized them instantly.
The Sentinels of the Abyss.
Hunters sworn to eliminate anything that defied its will. Cloaked in dark armor, their faces hidden behind obsidian masks, they carried weapons forged from voidfire.
And they were here for them.
One stepped forward, taller than the rest. The air around him crackled with energy, his presence suffocating. A Commander.
His voice was smooth, yet it slithered like poison. "You shouldn't be here."
Zyra's fire flared instinctively, her body coiling in defense. "Yeah? Neither should you."
A pause. Then a low chuckle. "Brave little flame. You think you've won?"
He lifted his hand—and the ruins trembled.
The ground split open, black tendrils seeping from the cracks like living shadows. The scent of decay filled the air.
Kieran stepped in front of her, his power coiling around him in a protective aura. "We're done playing by your rules."
The Commander tilted his head. "Ah. But the Abyss does not let go so easily."
And then they attacked.
---
The Battle for Freedom
Everything happened at once.
The Sentinels moved as one—blades drawn, shadows twisting around them like living weapons.
Kieran struck first.
Fire erupted from his hands, but it wasn't just fire—it was something deeper. Darker. Power that didn't belong to the Abyss, yet came from the same origin. A paradox of his very existence.
The Sentinels hesitated for a fraction of a second—a mistake.
Kieran tore through them.
Zyra didn't waste time. She ignited.
Golden flames roared to life, consuming everything in her path. She met the first Sentinel head-on, her blade cutting through the voidfire weapon he wielded. Metal clashed. Sparks flew.
The world burned.
Kieran moved beside her, his power a storm of fire and fury. They fought as though they had done this a thousand times before.
But the Sentinels kept coming.
Zyra twisted, barely dodging an oncoming strike. A blade nicked her shoulder, pain lancing through her.
Kieran saw.
And snapped.
A wave of fire surged outward, obliterating three Sentinels in an instant. But the Commander didn't flinch.
He smiled.
"Interesting," he mused. "You're stronger than we expected."
Kieran's breathing was ragged, his power dangerously unstable. "You have no idea."
The Commander's eyes gleamed behind his mask. "Indeed. And that is why—"
A sharp whistle split the air.
Zyra's heart stopped.
An arrow **shot through the battlefield—**straight for Kieran.
"KIERAN!"
She moved before she could think.
Time slowed.
She reached for him—but she was too far.
The arrow struck.
Kieran staggered, golden eyes going wide as the impact tore through him.
Zyra's scream shattered the sky.
---