The temple smelled of ash and iron. Shadows danced like serpents across the cracked walls, and the storm outside beat like a war drum.

Anaya’s hands trembled, though fire pulsed beneath her skin. She had never felt so alive and so broken.

Riyan stood before her, lightning flickering faintly in his veins. Dangerous. Untamed. Everything she had been warned against. Yet when his eyes locked with hers, the rest of the world bled away.

Mira, in contrast, leaned against the stone pillar, blade in hand. Dark hair plastered to her face, shadows curling at her feet like loyal hounds. Betrayer. Enemy. But once... once a sister.

Riyan (low, urgent): “Anaya, look at me. They’ll come for us by dawn. We can’t stay here. You feel it too, don’t you? The bond, they’ll rip it apart unless we run.”

His hand brushed hers. The contact sent fire racing through her veins, the rune on her wrist blazing in defiance of every law the Council had written.

Mira (cutting in, bitter): “And where will you run, Sweety? To your cursed bloodline? To the rebels hiding in gutters? She’ll burn for you, Riyan. The Council will carve her name from history, just like her mother.”

Anaya flinched. Mira’s voice was poison, but the truth in it stabbed deeper than any blade.

Anaya (whispering): “My mother… was she truly erased for love?”

Mira’s eyes softened for the briefest heartbeat. And in that crack, Anaya saw the girl she had once loved like kin. The girl who had stolen bread from kitchens just to share it under candlelight.

Mira (quiet, almost pleading): “She chose wrongly. Don’t do the same. I can protect you. Stay with me, Anaya. Stay where you belong.”

The storm boomed. Lightning cast both their faces into stark relief. Riyan’s raw defiance, Mira’s desperate hunger.

Anaya’s heart split. To choose Riyan was to choose freedom, passion, love that burned brighter than fire itself. But it meant war, exile, blood.

To stay with Mira was to cling to safety, to family, to the girl who once called her sister. But it meant chains. Silence. A half-life.

The rune on her skin throbbed violently, as though demanding her decision. Fire leapt from her palms, uncontrolled, licking at the temple walls.

Anaya (to herself, shaking): “Flame or Shadow… freedom or betrayal… love or trust…”

Suddenly, Mira moved. Too fast. Too precise. Her blade caught the light, arcing toward Riyan’s throat.

Instinct took over. Anaya screamed, fire exploding outward. The dagger melted mid-strike, Mira thrown back into the stone wall, shadows writhing to shield her.

For a breathless moment, all three stared at one another. Smoke hung thick in the air.

Riyan (hoarse, fierce): “You see now, Anaya. She’ll never stop. She doesn’t want to protect you. She wants to own you.”

Mira (snarling, tears cutting through soot): “No. I want to save you! He’ll destroy you, Anaya. Just like he destroyed everything he touched!”

The words cut deeper than the flames had. Anaya’s knees buckled. Her world spun.

And then-

A horn’s wail split the storm.

The Council’s armies had arrived.

Her choice could no longer wait.