Chapter 56

The weight of Silas’s gaze pressed into me, steady and unwavering. He didn’t move, didn’t even blink, as if holding his breath and giving me the space I needed to unravel the truth. But the air between us was thick, charged with everything I’d kept hidden, and now, there was no turning back.

My fingers trembled as I traced the edge of the Garnet at my collarbone, feeling its pulse slow, steadying with each heartbeat. It felt like an anchor now, the one thing grounding me against the storm that threatened to tear me apart. Silas’s hands rested on my shoulders, firm and warm, a silent promise that he was here, that he wouldn’t leave, no matter what I said next.

“I didn’t think it would come to this,” I started, my voice barely a whisper, raw and brittle. “I thought I could manage it, keep it buried until… until I understood it myself. But I can’t. Not anymore.”

Silas’s brow furrowed, his honey-colored eyes darkening with concern. “Mara, whatever it is, you don’t have to do this alone.”

I let out a shaky breath, the tightness in my chest easing just slightly at his words. The trust in his voice, the sincerity—it was a balm against the fear coiled in my gut. “There’s more to my power than just being Dark Cored,” I admitted, the confession tasting bitter on my tongue. “It’s why the shadows come for me, why Russling’s creatures are hunting. They’re looking for the one who will become the Liege of Shadows.”

His eyes widened, and he pulled back just a fraction, searching my face for any sign that I was exaggerating or joking. When he found none, his expression hardened, jaw clenching. “Shadow Cored?” he asked, his voice low and measured, like he was trying to piece it together.

“Yes,” I confirmed, a strange relief coursing through me at finally saying it aloud. “I’m Shadow Cored, not Dark Cored like everyone thought.” I hesitated, letting my gaze drift to the mark on my hand, the intricate, dark lines that had appeared after the ritual. “I’ve known for a while, but I couldn’t be sure until the bindings were broken.”

Silas’s eyes softened, understanding dawning in them. “The binding… your mother did that, didn’t she?”

A pang of emotion flared in my chest. “She thought I was Dark Cored because I could see spirits at a young age. Dark Cored students can train to be necromancers, and that kind of ability made sense to her. But she was wrong. I wasn’t just seeing spirits—I was already a Seeress, and that’s a Shadow Core trait.” My voice wavered, the weight of my past pressing in. “She wanted to protect me from my father, to keep him from realizing the truth.”

Silas’s grip on my shoulders tightened, his jaw clenching as anger flashed in his eyes. “Your father,” he muttered, his tone sharp with disdain. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on me, not the past we both wished we could change. “And the mark? That’s when you knew for sure?”

I nodded, glancing down at the darkened lines that curled over the back of my hand like living ink. “When I broke part of the binding during the ritual, the mark started appearing. It was the first real sign that I was Shadow Cored, that I was destined to be more than even I understood.”

His eyes searched mine, a mix of awe and worry. “You’re the Liege of Shadows,” he whispered, the words heavy and reverent. “That’s why the creatures hunt you. They know you’re on the path.”

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, and they’ll keep coming. If anyone finds out before I complete the trials… it won’t just be Russling. It’ll be everyone. The Liege of Shadows isn’t just a position; it’s power, balance, and chaos all at once.”

The silence was interrupted by the faint hum of energy that seemed to buzz around us, a silent acknowledgment of the danger in the air. Silas reached out, taking my gloved hand in his and slowly peeling it back to reveal the mark. His gaze hardened, not in anger but in fierce determination.

“I knew there was more to this,” he said, his voice steady, resolute. “I suspected Shadow Core when I first learned about the rituals and your connection to them, but hearing it from you… it makes it real.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the weight of secrecy and fear lifting, just a fraction, at the sound of his words. “Silas—”

He pulled me into his chest, his arms wrapping around me tightly, and for a moment, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, this battle wouldn’t have to be fought alone. The scent of him, familiar and calming, mixed with the faint metallic tinge of my own fear, grounding me in the moment.

“Whatever comes,” he whispered into my hair, “we face it. You don’t run, and neither will I.”

A shudder ran through me, the tension ebbing as I clung to him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into mine, steadying the tremors in my limbs. I knew the path ahead would be treacherous, that the shadows would grow bolder, more cunning, and the threats would come from places I least expected.

But with Silas here, with his unyielding loyalty and fierce protection, the storm didn’t feel quite so impossible to weather.

“Okay,” I said, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, a small, determined smile breaking through the fear. “Then let’s get ready for whatever comes next.”

And as I looked into his eyes, the flicker of light that mirrored the strength in his soul, I knew we were ready to face whatever darkness dared to challenge us.