Chapter 4 Shadows of the Court

The forest ended abruptly, replaced by the looming walls of the Shadow Court. Towers of black stone spiraled into the stormy sky, glowing veins of dark magic pulsing along the surface. Avalora's chest tightened.

"I...this place," she whispered, awe and fear mixing. "It's...alive."

Rion's silver eyes never left hers. "It is alive," he said. "And it hates intruders."

She swallowed hard. The mark on her wrist burned faintly, pulsing as if reacting to the Court itself. She glanced at him. "It feels...angry?"

"Not angry," he said, voice low, almost a growl. "Hungry. And it senses you."

Avalora's heart skipped. Senses me? What did that even mean?

Rion's cloak swirled around him as he led her inside. The gates groaned, ancient and ominous, opening with a sound that echoed through the stone halls. Shadows moved along the walls, alive, whispering, crawling like snakes.

"This way," he said, gripping her wrist-not too tightly, just enough to remind her she couldn't escape. The electricity between them made her stomach twist. She hated that she felt drawn to him, hated the warmth spreading through her chest at every brush of his fingers.

Inside, the court was darker than she imagined. Figures cloaked in black robes moved like whispers through the halls, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Avalora's breath caught. Are they...human?

"They're the council," Rion said quietly, as if reading her thoughts. "Shadow-blooded, like me. They'll decide if you stay...or die."

"Decide if I...what?" Avalora's voice trembled.

Rion's jaw tightened. "Your mark has power none of us fully understand. They'll want proof you can survive-and control it."

Before she could protest, a figure stepped forward: tall, lithe, eyes like black ice. "Rion," it said, voice smooth and commanding. "You bring her here? The Half-Blood? Dangerous and untrained."

"She is stronger than you think," Rion said, tone cold. His eyes, silver and piercing, locked on Avalora's. "And if you touch her, she will destroy you."

The council member's gaze flicked to her mark. Avalora felt heat rush to her cheeks. She wanted to hide it, cover it, do anything-but Rion's presence made her mark flare golden. Why does it react to him?

The figure's lips curved into a faint, sharp smile. "Interesting. Perhaps she is...fated."

"Fated?" Avalora asked, trembling.

"Yes," Rion said, stepping closer, hand brushing hers again. Sparks of warmth-electric and terrifying-ran through her. "The prophecy speaks of one with the mark who will decide the balance of magic. And it begins with her."

Avalora's stomach dropped. Balance of magic? Decide the world? Me?

Her eyes widened as the council members circled, whispering, watching, waiting. Fear clawed at her chest-but alongside it, a strange thrill. Every glance from Rion made her heart hammer, every brush of his cloak against hers felt like fire.

"You will train," Rion said, silver eyes softening just slightly. "And survive. And maybe..." His gaze flicked down to her lips, almost imperceptibly. "...you'll learn that your power belongs with me."

Avalora swallowed, trying to focus, trying not to give in to the pull that had been growing since the first moment they touched.

With him? she thought. Impossible. Dangerous. And yet...

She couldn't deny it. The connection between them was undeniable.

The council's whispers grew louder, a chant of shadows and magic, as the storm outside raged harder. Avalora realized the storm outside wasn't just in the sky-it was in the Court, in her mark, and in Rion.

And for the first time, she understood: there was no turning back.

The dark prince, the prophecy, the magic in her veins-it was all tied together. And it was just beginning.