Chapter 61
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
KATELL
When Katell’s mortal body followed Alena into the circle of standing stones, the mirror’s sheen flickered, then dulled. The magic vanished in a flash, leaving only a blank, polished surface and the trickling fountain.
“No!” Katell leaned over the basin and slammed her palm against the bronze mirror, but the image didn’t reappear. Only her own distorted reflection stared back.
The standing stones were ancient magic, Laran had said—a hallowed place where Gifts and magic alike unravelled. Alena, clever as ever, had lured her there on purpose, hoping to sever her connection to the Makhai.
Still, Katell’s strength and fighting abilities were part of her.
A cold weight settled in her gut. She didn’t know much about Leukos’ sword skills, but Nik had the best chance of defeating her, and he was already injured.
“Laran—”
The god raised his dark eyebrows, infuriatingly calm, sword resting across one shoulder.
Katell pressed her lips together, fighting the knot in her throat before forcing the word out. “Father”—something unreadable flashed in his eyes at the word, gone as quickly as it came, buried beneath his usual air of smug detachment—“please, do something. Don’t let anything happen to my sister.”
He shook his head. “Those are the Western Lands. I can’t intervene. But you can. Embrace what you are, and you can go.”
Magic writhed beneath her skin, a rising tide that clawed at her fragile control.
And there it was.
The ruse.
The trap.
Laran wasn’t any better than Dorias. He might be her father and had helped her in some ways, but in the end, he craved the darkness coiled inside her. He would gladly twist her into the very monster she fought so hard not to become—and he was willing to gamble her sister’s life to achieve it.
Her chest heaved. Her fists clenched so tight that blood welled between her fingers. “And what if I refuse?”
He huffed. “You really think you can escape who you are?” Rolling his shoulders, he swung the massive blade free in one fluid motion. His grin curved, sharp and merciless. “Fine. Let’s do this the hard way.”
In the next beat, he clamped down on her shoulder and drove his sword straight through her gut.
A scream caught in Katell’s throat and fractured, pain exploding through her body. She staggered, blood spilling hot and fast down her new tunic. Her vision blurred—part agony, part betrayal—each breath a ragged battle to stay upright.
When Laran wrenched the sword free, white-hot pain ripped through her again. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the ashy ground. Blood poured everywhere. Her control splintered, and raw magic began to churn within her.
Stars be cursed…
Laran seized her chin, forcing her face upwards. He loomed above her, unreadable, as if he hadn’t just gutted her. If she’d had even a scrap of strength left, she would’ve driven her knuckles straight into his smug face—god of war or not.
He arched an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that.”
A dozen curses burned in her mind, but when she opened her mouth, blood trickled past her lips. She met his gaze instead, defiance flaring through the haze of pain.
“You asked for help,” Laran reminded her, tilting her face higher.
“And this is it. You’ve spent days in my realm surrounded by magic.
You ate immortal food, bathed in our waters, and still you refuse to embrace what makes you strongest. This way, you’ll have no choice.
” His thumb traced her cheek as if soothing a child.
“You want to save your sister? Then stop pushing my magic away.”
Her strength ebbed, the wound pulsing as flesh knit together. But worse—far worse—was the magic. It coiled within her, curling tighter with each heartbeat, surging through her veins, seeping into her very bones. It was… claiming her.
Terror clawed at her ribs. If she gave in, there would be no turning back. She would become the thing she feared most—the monster she’d fought so desperately not to be.
Her breath hitched. “Every time I’ve let go… dozens have died.”
Laran knelt before her, his massive frame blotting out the light. “The power you fear so much isn’t the darkness you believe it to be, daughter.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, his tone softening. “It’s simply me.”
His magic pulled at her, threading through every fractured part of her being. It coiled in her chest, waiting, demanding.
He leaned closer, eyes a storm-dark brown, touched with a flicker of crimson light that burned like a hidden forge. In their depths smouldered the fury of countless wars, yet behind them lingered something almost familiar—a reminder that he was not only a god, but her father.
“Make no mistake. You are not just a warrior, daughter. You are war.”
Her heartbeat thundered. Crimson light flared from her fingertips, snaking up her arms until it sheathed her skin in living armour.
Laran’s magic.
Her immortal side, no longer dormant.
“But I am not only the god of aggression and destruction,” Laran said. “I am the protector of borders. The maintainer of peace. Find that balance within you…” His fingers tightened on her shoulder, power pressing down like an anvil. “And let go of your fear.”
Katell’s body shuddered as something vast and ancient sparked inside her—a blazing inferno of rage so fierce and untamed it seemed capable of incinerating everything in its path.
It was a force of nature, wild and uncontrollable, one that screamed to tear the world apart.
Her mind roared with the thirst to strike, to feast on the blood of those who dared challenge her, to rend the universe itself with her fury.
She could feel it—the power of destruction rushing through her veins, an unstoppable torrent of violence.
Blinding light radiated from her skin in pulsating waves. Relentless. Terrifying.
Her thoughts fractured.
Then—through the maelstrom—a voice pierced the air.
Kat. It’s me. Little star.
The words cut through the madness, clear as a bell in the dark, and Katell’s breath caught.
Air flooded back into her lungs. The magic, which had only moments before threatened to consume her entirely, seemed to withdraw—immense, burning, but no longer dictating her every breath.
Her hands stilled. Alena’s voice anchored her, steady as a hand on her heart, a tether pulling her back to what was human.
To the mortal world.
Katell scanned the ashen field of wandering souls, searching for her sister’s form. “Alena!” she cried, her throat splintering on the name.
But her sister wasn’t here. She remained in the mortal realm—fighting, bleeding, in danger.
Katell shoved at Laran’s chest. Pain flared through her side, the gash he’d carved only half-sealed. “She needs me,” she gasped, magic crackling under her skin. “I have to go.”
Laran’s brow furrowed, but he caught her arm and helped her rise. She staggered towards the mirror, one hand clamped to the wound, fingers slick with blood.
The bronze circle rippled with light, though no image appeared.
Behind her, Laran sighed. “Hmm… This is taking too long.”
He stepped forward, but Katell was faster.
She spun, summoning Laran’s Flame to her palm with a snap of heat and light. “If you stab me again,” she warned, the fire casting a red glow between them, “I’ll personally burn down every one of your temples in Rasenna.”
Laran exhaled a quiet huff, but it carried no real anger. A spark of pride flickered across his face as he nodded towards the fire in her hand. “Just like your mother,” he murmured. “Stubborn to the very end. I am trying to help, you know.”
He offered his hand.
She hesitated, then grudgingly took it.
Heat surged through her body, and the gash in her gut sealed at once, the pain vanishing.
She gave him a curt nod. “Thanks.”
I failed you. Leukos was right. I should’ve picked up that sword and fought beside you against the slavers.
Katell’s stomach twisted. Why did her sister’s words sound like a goodbye?
She whirled towards the mirror, but before she could reach it—
“Katell.”
She froze. It was the first time Laran had ever said her name.
The usual glint of mockery in his expression had vanished, replaced by something quieter, older.
“When you return, your memories will come back with you. Everything your mortal self experienced while you were here. It won’t be pretty, but don’t waste time punishing yourself for what was never in your hands. ”
The blood drained from her face. A chill coursed through her.
He knew.
He knew exactly what awaited her on the other side. More than he’d said.
Panic flared in her chest. What had the Rasennans done to her? What had Dorias let her become?
The steady trickle from the fountain cut through her spiralling thoughts. When her knees touched the basin’s edge, she paused and glanced over her shoulder.
Laran stood where she’d left him. Watching.
“Will we ever meet again?” she asked.
He was arrogant and manipulative—a god who had tricked her, tested her, pushed her to the edge and beyond. But he was still the only parent she had.
Something in Laran’s expression shifted, turning more thoughtful, almost fond. “If you ever need me, I won’t be far.” The familiar smirk crept back in, and he tipped his head towards the fountain. “Now, go. And try not to embarrass yourself too much.”
Katell didn’t hesitate. She leaned forward and grasped the mirror’s polished surface. It yielded as though made of water, light exploding around her in a blinding surge.
I love you. Nothing will ever change that.
Her sister’s rasping words echoed through her, and her heart clenched. “I’m coming, Alena,” she breathed. “Just hold on.”
The mirror swallowed her whole, and Laran’s realm vanished.