25. TWENTY FIVE
TWENTY FIVE
EAVESDROPPING
I didn’t want to admit it. The more time I spent with Cillian, the more drawn to him I felt. A warmth stirred within me whenever I thought of him, comforting on one hand, but on the other it was terrifying. I pushed the distracting thoughts aside and forced myself to get up.
As weak as I felt, I slowly made my way toward the large window to open it to let some air in.
The faint smell of rain lingered in the air, earthy and fresh, calming my nerves for just a moment. But unease crept back in when I heard voices drifting up from below.
My heart skipped a beat when I realised, they belonged to Fionn and Seraphina.
Instinct told me I shouldn’t eavesdrop.
But another part of me, the one tired of being left in the dark, urged me to listen .
“Do you think she feels the connection yet?” Seraphina asked, her tone filled with concern.
“She doesn’t trust us,” Fionn replied sharply. “To be blunt, I don’t think she ever will.”
My pulse quickened. Of course, they were talking about me. What else could they possibly have to discuss with such intensity? I gripped the windowsill, the cold stone grounding me against the rush of paranoia rising within me.
The voices below fell quiet for a moment.
“That attitude won’t work if you expect anything to change, Fionn,” Seraphina said. “She’s human, but that doesn’t make her weak. Humans have their own kind of strength. Their emotions, their fragility, that’s where their power lies.” voices faded below
kind of strength. Their emotions, their fragility, it’s where they draw power. Surely, you’ve learned this by now.”
“Learned?” Fionn scoffed. “If anything, I’ve learned that humans are inferior to us in every way.”
I was irritated by his arrogance and the fact that they were discussing me. I stood perfectly still, afraid the floorboards might creak and reveal I was listening.
But my need to hear the truth outweighed the risk of being caught. I listened more intently to what seemed to be a serious conversation.
“At least she’s beginning to trust Cillian,” Seraphina said. “Which is more than I can say for you or Torin. If we want her to make a choice, she must trust all of you.”
The choice.
The word sent a cold chill down my spine. Its weight heavier than anything else they’d said.
“You’re always the optimist,” Fionn said bitterly. “But you’ve seen what the curse does to us and to the marked. It twists everything. It warps our minds. Do you honestly believe she’ll choose anyone when she sees what we become when Vareth takes over?”
A chill ran down my spine at his words.
What do they become?
Monsters… came a whisper.
“Maybe our efforts are merely a fool’s errand, and the curse can never be broken, no matter what we do,” Fionn continued. “We’ve trodden this path many times before, Seraphina. Don’t you see? It always ends the same.”
“The Varethym have never spared the Marked,” he added, his voice like a commander delivering a decree.
“Every prophecy ends beneath the Blood Moon, and every star returns to its pattern in the Elora sky.”
What did he mean? It always ends the same. My mind raced, piecing together fragments of what I’d seen and heard since I was brought here.
The voices in my head whispered warnings, their urgency growing louder.
Escape.
Before it's too late.
Do not choose.
“Fionn, you’re letting the curse control you again,” Seraphina snapped.
“Tilly’s different. Her mark is different. We’ve never seen one like it. Vareth has chosen her for a reason. That’s why she’s the key to everything.”
Fionn’s voice took on a dangerous edge. “Her mark makes her a bigger target. And don’t pretend that the séance didn’t make it worse. You know it did.”
My blood ran cold. The séance. What had they done to bring me here?
“Stop it, that’s the curse talking,” Seraphina said firmly. “You need to stop overthinking the situation. This was the correct choice. I know it, you know it. Otherwise, we would never have found her.”
“We used the blood of the Elysium and the ancient magic of the Seraphel Order,” Seraphina continued.
“Two forces that were never meant to merge. Two skies that should have been forbidden to touch.”
“Forbidden by every Order,” Fionn growled. “By every star-scripted law. By the geometry of the heavens themselves.”
“And yet,” Seraphina whispered, “we found her before the others. Before the Gatekeepers scented her. Before the Elorium felt her pulse in the air, and before the Elders of the Seraphel read her name in the sky.”
“You think I don’t see it?” Fionn snapped. “You think I don’t know what the séance did? The séance didn’t just guide her to us, it awakened Vareth, and has made him hungrier than ever.
Vareth’s prophecy is tightening around our bloodline. Far more than it ever has. Every Marked soul feeds him, and now he’s looking to us to deliver her.”
“Stop it!” Seraphina’s voice rose, sharp and commanding.
“We used forbidden magic.” Fionn said. “We broke celestial law and for what? To drag out the inevitable?”
I heard him shuffle as if he had stepped closer to her; Then the shift in his tone, the cold certainty of a man who had already made his decision.
“She is not a soul that can bind to my brothers or me,” his voice stern. “She is a burden. We end her, and the curse resets. That is the only mercy left for the human.
Everything paused for a second.
“The Blood Moon takes what it was promised, and our realms breathe again.”
My stomach churned. He wanted to dispose of me, like I was nothing.
“That is not the way,” Seraphina hissed, but her voice wavered .
“The choice is merely a formality,” Fionn said. “If she doesn’t make it soon, the Blood Moon will demand its offering, and I will do what must be done.”
“Cillian will not allow it,” Seraphina said, He believes in the binding and that it will break Vareth’s cycle.
“He obeys The Varethym Kharos. The laws of the Marked. Fionn retorted.
“One way or another, he will remember where his loyalty belongs. Cillian will be pulled in line.”
I leaned back from the window, my hands trembling. I didn’t know what scared me more—the curse, their plans for me, or the possibility that Fionn might be right.
My chest tightened, and then the voices came. It wasn’t Seraphina or Fionn anymore, this was something else. Faint at first, like a whisper, but they soon rose in my mind. Not one voice, but many.
"They’ll kill you, Tilly. Just like the others."
"You’re nothing to them. A means to an end."
"You saw their bones, didn’t you?
Scattered, broken, forgotten about. You’ll join them soon enough."
My throat felt dry as I clamped my hands over my ears.
It didn’t matter.
The voices weren’t coming from outside me.
They were inside, crawling through my mind like parasites.
It wasn’t just fear anymore. It was anger, a deep, simmering fury that threatened to consume me.
To them, I wasn’t Tilly. I wasn’t a person.
I was a mark, a possibility, a gamble. And if I didn’t meet their expectations?
They’d discard me without a second thought.
The bones I’d seen weren’t a warning—they were my fate if I didn’t fight.
The room felt heavy and suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in. I needed to pull myself together, to wear the mask they needed to see. Hearing the door creak open, I turned to see Cillian standing in the doorway. For a moment, I swear my heart stopped.
He stared curiously at me.
“What’s wrong, Tilly?”
I forced a smile, hiding the panic. Hoping he wouldn’t notice, yet at the back of my mind, I couldn't quite vanquish the tendrils of doubt clinging to my heart like a tenacious vine.
“Nothing. I’m tired. If you don’t mind, I would like to rest.”
For a moment, he hesitated, his expression unreadable. Then, he nodded.
“Of course. Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s another step forward.”
If I survived the night, it would be a miracle. Because now I knew the truth. Fionn wanted me dead and I might not make it to tomorrow.