Chapter 20
20
Anora
The Beginnings of The Great War—The Sanctuary
I ’m on top of Amir, straddling him, my lips crashing against his, my hands clawing at his chest like I can’t get enough. He purrs softly, then nips at my bottom lip, grinning against my mouth. I push him back, and he laughs, a low rumble that sends heat rushing through my body. His golden eyes catch mine, and I can’t look away. It’s time. I want him—all of me his, forever.
I reach for the hem of my shirt, ready to pull it off, but a sudden rush of cold air hits me. I glance down, confused. The warmth of his body is gone. I’m no longer in my room but outside, my knees sinking into wet, cold earth. I look around frantically, but Amir is gone. All I see is the dark forest surrounding me, the trees looming like silent sentinels. The sharp chill of the air presses against my skin, unwelcome .
The whiplash is devastating—one moment wrapped in passion and safety, the next thrust into cold emptiness. My body still burns from Amir’s touch, making the bitter wind feel even sharper against my skin. It’s a cruel shift, like being ripped from heaven and dropped into hell.
Groaning, I press my hands into the ground and push myself to my feet. My breathing is shaky, and the cold settles deep in my bones. I know what this is. Another dream. But it doesn’t feel like one. Amir’s touch, his kiss—it felt too real. My lips still tingle, as if his mouth was just on mine. I brush my fingers across them, swallowing hard as I glance up at the dark sky.
Around me, the forest is alive with sounds. Leaves rustle in the wind, and somewhere in the distance, I hear laughter—children and women, carefree and haunting. My heart races. It’s not comforting. It feels… wrong.
The sound of footsteps against wet ground pulls my attention. I spin around. A shadow moves toward me through the trees, slow and deliberate. A cloaked woman steps into view, her face hidden. I can’t make out her features, but it’s her. The same woman I’ve seen before. My stomach churns, but I don’t move.
She stops a few feet away, lifting a finger to point toward the forest. Her voice is a low murmur, almost drowned by the wind. “You need to see.”
I glance in the direction she’s pointing, then back to her—but she’s gone. My heart jumps. I spin again, searching, but nothing. It’s just me and the trees. When I look back at the forest, though, there’s a new energy, like it’s waiting for me. Somehow, I know she’s already ahead.
“Wait!” I yell, breaking into a run. The cold winds claw at me, the wet earth sucking at my steps. I try to catch up, but no matter how fast I move, I can’t close the distance. My chest heaves as I slow down, realizing it’s useless. I’m not meant to catch her. I’m supposed to follow.
Shivering, I wrap my arms around myself and keep moving. My steps are uneven, the ground slippery and unforgiving. Eventually, the forest splits open, revealing a rocky mountainside. In the moonlight, the jagged peaks look sharp enough to cut.
The cloaked woman reappears, standing still just ahead. She points to the left, her finger steady. “You need to see,” she repeats, her tone calm but insistent.
“See what?” My voice comes out as a whisper, shaky and uncertain. My heart pounds, and I feel exposed in the open. But then I see them.
Three women step into view, their cloaks blending into the shadows. The one in the middle draws my focus. Her blue eyes glow like the moonlight itself, sharp and otherworldly. Her curly hair is wild and untamed, framing a striking face that’s somehow familiar. She doesn’t move, her gaze steady and intimidating, but her presence ripples with power. In her palm, she holds a glowing blue orb, its light casting eerie shadows across the mountain.
The two women behind her share worried looks. One of them shifts uncomfortably. “Aya, this isn’t right. We shouldn’t do this.”
The name shoots through me like a lightning bolt. Aya. My breath catches. Aya Bailey. It’s her. All I can do is stare as my pulse races. What is she doing here? Why do I already know that whatever she’s about to do, it changes everything?
“Aya,” one of the cloaked women says, her voice trembling.
Aya glares at her, her stare like a punch. “Don’t you see? It has to be done. We can’t win with the dragon shifters against us. The book told me so. This is the only way—take down the strongest army from the inside. They’re loyal to Amir, but if we strip that loyalty away...” Her voice sharpens with conviction.
My heart slams against my ribs as I realize what she’s planning. She’s going to kill them. My eyes dart to the mountain. There’s a faint light coming from the cave’s entrance, and then I hear it—the laughter of women, the giggles of children. Innocence. My stomach turns.
I spin around to the cloaked woman who brought me here. I glare at her, anger bubbling in my gut. “Why are you showing me this?” I snap.
“You need to see,” she says again, her tone calm, almost haunting.
I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “I have to stop this. I can’t let her do this.”
“You can’t.” Her voice is softer now, colder. “You’re not here to stop it. You’re here to see.”
“Asma, Alina,” Aya growls, turning back to face the other women. “You’ve always been too weak to do what’s necessary. That’s why Mother Fate never trusted you with the book. That’s why I have the key. She knew I’d do whatever it took to restore balance—what’s needed for humanity to survive. Now, get out of my way, or I’ll kill you both.” Her words are ice, her voice unwavering as she stares them down. In her hand, the glow of the magic ball pulses like a heartbeat.
“It’s just an illusion,” Aya adds, her lips curling into a twisted smile. “I only need them to believe they’re dead.”
“You shouldn’t trust dark magic,” Asma whispers, barely audible over the wind. “It lies.”
“You’re wrong.” Aya’s voice rises, defiant. “Dark magic hasn’t failed me. Not once.”
The glowing orb floats higher above her hand. My stomach drops as it hovers, spinning, moving toward the cave. The laughter inside continues—soft, joyful, oblivious. I want to scream, but no sound comes out. I feel frozen, helpless, as the orb glows brighter.
Aya’s gaze hardens. Her eyes lock on the orb as she closes her fist. Then, everything erupts. The orb bursts like a bomb, and the cave explodes with screams. Bloodcurdling, gut-wrenching screams. My legs feel weak. The light dies out, and the laughter is gone.
The horror settles into my bones like poison. These aren’t just nameless victims—they were mothers, daughters, sisters. Each scream that just died represented a life, a future, dreams that will never be realized. Their loss crashes into me like a physical force, and I feel something break inside me—my innocence, perhaps, or maybe just my ability to stay detached from this supernatural world I’ve entered.
Aya’s lips curl into a triumphant smile, but only for a moment. Her eyes widen when she sees the blood. It spills from the cave, thick and real, pooling and running like a waterfall down the mountain.
“No!” Her voice cracks, trembling. “That’s not what was supposed to happen. They were meant to fall asleep. That’s all—just asleep!”
“Dark magic lies,” Asma says again, her voice sharper now.
Aya stiffens. Her hands shake as she stares at the blood smearing the ground. There’s a blankness in her face, a disconnect that makes my stomach twist. “We have to go,” Asma urges, grabbing Aya’s arm. Meanwhile, Alina opens a portal, her movements quick and urgent.
Aya doesn’t move. “They were just supposed to sleep,” she whispers, her voice hollow and unrecognizable. But then her glowing blue eyes shift. They rise, locking on me. Ice runs through my veins. She can see me.
Her stare darkens, filled with venom, hatred so deep it pierces me. But before she can move, Asma and Alina drag her through the portal. Her eyes never leave mine until the portal closes, swallowing them whole.
The air vibrates with a deafening roar. I whip my head up, and two dragons circle in the sky, their cries piercing through me. Pain radiates from their screams, pain so overwhelming I feel it in my bones. My knees buckle, and I crash to the ground.
This is unbearable. The blood is rising, creeping toward me, thick and warm as it laps at my skin. I scream, my hands pressing into the muddy ground. “This is awful! They didn’t deserve this!” My voice breaks as the ache in my chest swells. “Why!?”
“This is how it began,” the cloaked woman murmurs. “Amir will explain the rest.”
The dragons roar again, louder, their pain slicing through me. I can’t take it. My screams match theirs as the blood rises higher and higher. “Make it stop!” My voice is raw as I claw at the ground.
“Anora,” the cloaked woman whispers, and suddenly her voice changes. It’s familiar. “Wake up.”
My eyes snap open, my chest heaving, sweat slicking my skin. Amir is above me, gripping my shoulders. His golden eyes are wide, filled with worry. “Anora, it’s okay,” he says, his voice soft. “You’re safe.”
But it’s not okay. Nothing is okay. I break down, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Anora,” Amir pleads, pulling me into his arms. “Please don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.” His hand brushes through my hair, trying to comfort me .
“They’re dead. All of them,” I choke out through sobs. “Women... children. Innocent lives. Why?” Tears stream down my face, the vision crushing me.
“Oh, Anora,” Amir whispers, his voice heavy with sorrow. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”
I shove him away, my hands trembling. “Get it out of me! I don’t want this—whatever this is. I can’t handle it!”
Amir grabs me before I can push myself off the bed, wrapping his arm around my waist, holding me close. “It’s your magic,” he says gently. “It’s finding its way out.”
“Then make it stop! Please!” I beg, my voice cracking.
He doesn’t let go. Instead, he holds me tighter, rocking us back and forth. “You used to come to me from the future,” he says softly. “So strong. So fierce. You were a queen.” He leans his forehead against mine, his voice steady. “Aya didn’t mean to kill them, did she?”
I shake my head miserably. “She trusted dark magic. It lied to her.”
“She’s made that mistake before,” Amir says quietly, his jaw clenching.
I sniffle, wiping my face as the guilt in his eyes pulls me in. “You blame yourself,” I whisper.
“Of course I do.” His voice wavers, rough with emotion. “I should’ve been there. I let my guard down. Once again, my people suffered because of me.”
I cup his face, my hand unsteady. “Amir…”
He closes his eyes for a second, exhaling heavily. “I never wanted to be a king. It’s a thankless job, Anora. Every decision weighs on you. And I’ve been alone for so long.” His voice softens. “I just wanted you by my side. Someone to make those hard decisions bearable.”
Tears well in my eyes again, but before I can respond, Amir pulls me into his lap, his hands firm on my hips. His lips find mine, and his kiss drowns out every thought, every ache.
“Love me,” he whispers. “That’s the best way to help me right now.”
But even as his touch sends warmth through my body, I can’t forget the blood, the screams. Something inside me stirs, a fire sparking to life. If I don’t do something, if I don’t act, this will happen again.
And I won’t let it.
The fire building inside me isn’t just anger or determination—it’s purpose. Every scream I heard, every drop of blood I saw, they’re fuel now. Fuel for something bigger than myself. I may not have my powers yet, but I have something else: the memory of their pain, the echo of their final moments.
And I swear by whatever magic runs in my veins, I will make it mean something. This isn’t just Amir’s burden anymore - it’s mine too. And together, we’ll make sure their deaths weren’t in vain.