I have hidden in plain sight, a phantom in the gutters of Virellin. I have thieved and starved, fought and survived. Revryn has given me shelter, trained me, and kept me alive, but the hunger for justice—no, for vengeance—has been my true sustenance.
And now, the Stars have called me to collect on their promise.
I clutch at my chest, squeezing my eyes shut against the brutal reality crashing down around me. The Lightborne mark burns beneath my skin, searing with a light that refuses to be ignored. My fingers dig into my shirt, desperate to claw my fate free, to tear it out and cast it away.
But there’s no running now. No hiding. My destiny has found me, and it demands that I face it.
The warehouse looms around me, its shadows heavy and oppressive, threatening to swallow me whole. The air is thick with the lingering stench of blood and smoke. My chest flares with light once again, a cruel beacon that pierces the darkness. The burning is relentless, a reminder of what I am and what I cannot escape.
I fall to my knees, gasping as if I could extinguish the light inside me with sheer willpower. My hands tremble in recognition—my time has come. The Lightborne mark pulses beneath my palms, a brand that feels too heavy to bear.
“Breathe, Isk. It’s okay. Shhhh,” Ronyn soothes. His voice cuts through the haze, low and steady. His hand finds my back, rubbing slow circles against my spine. His touch is firm but careful, anchoring me to the moment when I feel like I might shatter.
“You’re okay,” he says softly, his tone so at odds with the chaos within me that I almost believe him. “I’m obviously shocked, butlisten to me—you’re still you. And I’m still me. We’ll figure it out, okay?”
I open my eyes, my vision blurred with unshed tears. Ronyn’s face hovers just inches from mine, his expression raw with concern but unflinching.
For a moment, the weight in my chest eases, and I focus on the steady rhythm of his hand against my back. He’s always been there—through every scrape, every scheme, every impossible situation. And even now, as my world shifts on its axis, he’s here.
“Let’s go home, Isk,” he says, as if nothing has changed at all.
“Elyssara,” I correct him with a whisper, becauseeverythinghas changed.
CHAPTER SIX
“Isk! Ronyn! You’re okay!”Seren shrieks.
Her excitement hits me like a burst of light, sharp and overwhelming, after the darkness of The Tannery. Before I can take a full breath, she barrels into us, pulling us into a tangle of limbs and nervous energy.
“What happened? Were there guards? What happened to your face?” she asks, her words tumbling over one another in a rush. “Oh, Stars, you were gone for so long I thought?—”
“We’re fine, Little Star,” I interrupt softly, brushing her hair back the way I always do when she’s worked up. “See? Safe and sound.”
“Well...” Ronyn drags out the word, edging away just enough to dodge my elbow intended for his ribs. “Safe is maybe pushing it a bit. Sound? Debatable.”
I roll my eyes, scoffing.
He grins at me, all teeth and mischief. “What? I’m just saying, your rescue methods could use a little... finesse.”
“Rescue methods?” Seren pulls back, blinking up at me. “What’s he talking about?”
Before I can stop her, she turns toward the trapdoor and shouts, “Revryn! Get up here! Something happened!”
Revryn appears at the top of the ladder, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “I take it you didn’t stick to the plan?”
“Define ‘plan’,” Ronyn says innocently, dropping onto one of the blankets strewn across the floor.
“The plan,” Revryn says dryly, “where Iskara gets you from The Barrier District quietly, without raising half the city’s guard force.”
Revryn used to serve in the Royal Guard—back when swordsmanship, not the constellation in the sky when you were born, earned you a place in the ranks. Swordsmanship is a skill. The constellation you were born under? That’s just luck. After King Thalmyr’s decree that only Starborn could serve, he was cast aside like so many others. For twenty-five summers now, he’s worked the forges in the slums, crafting weapons for the same crown that exiled him.
“Ah,” Ronyn says, scratching his jaw. “Yeah, no. Definitely didn’t do that.”
Revryn sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, someone explain.Now.”
I shift uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. “Ronyn got caught.”
“Hey, in my defense,” Ronyn says, holding up his hands, “It was a very high-level operation—I was practically invisible.”
