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Chapter 1
Evelyn Blackthorn never believed in destiny. She believed in grades, rent payments, coffee-fueled mornings, and nights spent chasing impossible dreams across the city skyline. Magic belonged to bedtime stories and forgotten myths — not in her life. Not here. Not now.
That belief shattered the moment the sky split open.
It happened without warning. A low vibration — almost too deep to hear — trembled through the crowded street. Neon signs flickered, one by one, until the city seemed to breathe in… and hold its breath.
Evelyn froze outside the subway entrance, the plastic bag of groceries slipping from her hand, apples rolling into the gutter. Around her, people glanced upward with confusion, with growing fear.
The sky — it was wrong. A black crack pulsed across the stars, like a wound bleeding darkness.
And from that wound, they came.
Figures in gray cloaks, faces hidden behind iron masks. They moved unnaturally fast, weaving between frozen crowds with a predator's grace. Evelyn's heart slammed against her ribs as one of them turned — and its empty, silver eyes locked onto hers.
Run.
The instinct screamed through her, raw and primal. But her legs wouldn't move. Not until the first scream ripped through the night, followed by the smell of burning flesh.
The masked figures didn't care about the others. They cared only about her.
They knew.
Evelyn stumbled back, nearly falling over a curb. Her vision blurred, her breath caught. Her skin — it was burning. No, not burning. Awakening.
Something inside her, something she had buried all her life, tore free.
The ground beneath her feet cracked. Streetlights exploded in showers of glass. And for one terrible, endless moment — everything she touched decayed into ash.
The hunters faltered, briefly, reassessing. One of them raised a hand, chanting in a language Evelyn's mind barely registered. Chains of shimmering energy lashed toward her.
She didn't know how to fight. She didn't even know how she had caused this.
All she knew was that she was going to die.
Until he appeared.
A shadow moved between her and the attackers — swift, silent, devastating. A man, dressed in black from head to toe, wielding a blade that seemed made of the very night itself.
The chains shattered against his blade. He moved with terrifying precision, every swing a promise of death. Within seconds, two of the masked figures lay motionless, their bodies dissolving into mist.
Evelyn stared, frozen, as the man turned to her.
Steel-gray eyes met hers — cold, sharp, and impossibly deep. For a heartbeat, the world fell silent again, as if everything — the chaos, the fear, the city itself — held its breath.
"You're late," he said, his voice low and rough, as if he'd been waiting for her all his life.
Before she could answer, he grabbed her wrist — his hand warm and real against her shaking skin — and pulled her into the darkness of a collapsing alley.
They ran, side by side, pursued by death. But something inside Evelyn — something older, something dangerous — whispered that this was not the end. It was only the beginning.
The night the sky fell, so did she — into a world of ashes, shadows… and a fate she could no longer escape.
And somewhere, deep in the hollow place she called her heart, a single, impossible thought bloomed:
I know him.
To be continued...
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