Anaya and Riyan reappeared in the ruins of the old temple-once sacred, now forgotten. But Riyan knew better.

Riyan: “This is where our bond was written. Before we were even born.”

The ancient runes on the stone floor pulsed with their presence. As their hands met, images flashed two bloodlines cursed and blessed to intertwine, destined to challenge the Council's rule.

Anaya gasped. Anaya: “They knew. Our parents… they knew this would happen.”

And then, the final vision.

Her mother-alive, imprisoned beneath the mountain of Myrran, hidden by the Council all these years.

Riyan (jaw clenched): “They took your mother to control you. To keep you obedient.”

Anaya’s tears burned hot on her cheeks. Everything was a lie.

Anaya (furious, magic thrumming): “Then we burn their lies to the ground.”

At the break of dawn, Anaya and Riyan snuck into the underground resistance hidden beneath the city’s catacombs-rogues, rebels, and exiles who had once defied the Council.

They were greeted with suspicion until Anaya stepped forward, rune glowing like wildfire across her skin.

Rebel Leader: “So... the Flame Princess lives.”

Plans formed. Alliances forged in whispers and blood. The battle was near.

But in the stillness of night, Anaya and Riyan finally breathed.

Underneath an ancient willow, with stars as their only witness, they touched not with fear, but fierce, unstoppable love.

Riyan (whispering against her skin): “They can take kingdoms. But this us, they’ll never own.”

Clothes forgotten, hearts racing, they lost themselves in each other burning away pain with passion, letting their souls fuse in the most dangerous way of all.

The bond, now complete, glowed bright enough to crack the sky.