CH- 39

CH- 39
Aria POV

Lorien’s weight is heavy against my chest. Too heavy.
I shake him once. Twice. His head lolls, lips parted, breath shallow.

“Lorien—”
Nothing.
The sigil on his neck is still moving—three fragments circling each other like predators.

Every time they shift, the bond between us snaps and then reconnects, sending hot-cold shocks through my body.
It’s dizzying.
And then—
The door bursts open.

Sebastian fills the doorway like he owns the room, his gaze scanning the scene in one heartbeat. Lorien unconscious. Me pinned beneath him. Blood.
His fangs slide out instantly. “What happened?”

I try to speak, but the words knot in my throat. My whole body is vibrating, the bond screaming with something I can’t contain.
Sebastian’s eyes drop to my neck.

The mark. He sees it. The fresh change.
And then—before I can explain—my knees give out.

The world tilts sideways, the ceiling stretching into a blur of moonlight and shadow, and I’m falling—
—straight into somewhere else.

Moonlight.
But not the pale, cold light I know from Blackthorn’s courtyard. This is thicker. Almost liquid.

It pours down the columns of a vast marble hall, pooling at my bare feet.
I’m dressed in silver silk that clings like water. Strips of painted metal coil around my arms, cool against my skin.

My hair is bound with a crown I don’t remember putting on.
I know this place.
No—I remember this place.

They appear before me in a slow, deliberate line.
Three men.
Each wears a crown: one of molten gold, one of polished obsidian, one of pale bone. Their eyes hold no fear—only an inevitability.

They kneel, not because I command it, but because this is the rite. The ancient promise.
And I… I am not Aria here.
I am Her.

The first one rises and takes my hand. His lips brush my palm, warm and lingering. His gaze locks on mine as if to say you’re already mine.
The second steps closer, his fingers curling against my shoulder before his mouth follows—teeth grazing skin, breath hot, claiming me in front of the others.

The third… the third does not wait for permission.

He drops to his knees between mine, his hands spreading my legs with a confidence that feels carved from another life.
The silk parts easily. The cold air hits me first, and then—

I gasp.
Not here. Not now.

But my body doesn’t care. The bond reacts. Not just the one with Lorien, but Sebastian’s too—pulling tight, thrumming, demanding.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear them both—like echoes calling through stone—Aria—don’t.

The third man’s mouth is heat and wetness and ruin.
Except he’s not the man with silver eyes. Not yet. These three are… others. Mortal once. Kings in their own right.
And I remember—God, I remember—how it ended.

The eclipse.
The taste of blood on my tongue that was not offered but taken.

Three bodies cooling at my feet, their crowns scattered across the marble like discarded toys.
And me—standing over them, smiling like a queen who always knew the game would end this way.

A voice cuts through the memory. Smooth. Dangerous. Familiar.

“You were always meant for three.”
I turn, and there he is—him—silver eyes glinting in the moonlight, leaning against a column like he’s been here the whole time.

He doesn’t approach. Doesn’t need to.
“You killed them before,” he says, and his smile is not unkind. “But you won’t kill me.”

The marble under my feet dissolves into shadow, and suddenly he’s closer. Close enough to touch. His fingers ghost the edge of my jaw, and my pulse jumps in answer.
I should step back. I don’t.

The hall darkens, the eclipse beginning again, and I realize—this isn’t just a vision.
It’s a warning.
Or a promise.

My knees weaken, my chest tightens, and the silver-eyed man leans in, his breath brushing my ear.
“You have six days, Aria. The Blood Moon will take what you don’t choose.”

The moonlight snaps out.

I wake with a choke, air flooding back into my lungs.
The infirmary. The clean sting of antiseptic. Lorien is still beside me, pale and unmoving.
Sebastian is in the chair across from my bed, leaning forward, watching me like I might vanish again.

“You’ve been out for hours,” he says, his voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it—gravel laced with something darker, more primal.

His eyes are fixed on me, searching, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit anymore.

“You were burning. And your mark—” He stops abruptly, his jaw tightening as if the words themselves might burn him.

“What?” My voice cracks, barely audible over the pounding in my chest. It feels like the room is closing in around me, the air thick with unspoken truths and warnings neither of us wants to face.

“It’s… different.” His gaze darts toward Lorien, lingering just long enough for me to notice the unease flickering across his features. “So is his.”

My throat tightens, fingers instinctively pressing harder against my own mark. The skin beneath my palm radiates heat, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat—or maybe a countdown.

I can feel it now, the difference he’s talking about. Something inside it has shifted, rearranged itself without permission, without explanation.

I glance at Lorien’s neck. His sigil is still fractured, three jagged shards orbiting each other in slow, deliberate circles.

But there’s something new too—a faint glow along the edges, golden and sharp, like sunlight slicing through glass. It’s beautiful. Terrifying.

And mine?

Mine feels alive. Hungry.

“The Blood Moon,” I whisper, the words scraping against my dry lips, tasting wrong, heavy, inevitable. “It’s in six days.”

Sebastian freezes. Just completely still, like someone hit pause on the world.

For a moment, no one breathes—not him, not me, not even Lorien, who stands silently behind us, watching everything unfold with an unreadable expression carved into his face.

He knows.

Before I can say more, the shadows in the corner of the room shift—stretch—until they take the shape of a man.
The silver-eyed man.

He doesn’t move toward me, but I feel him inside my head, his voice threading through my thoughts like silk.

“Six days, Aria. Make your choice.”