9
ELARA
The pulse of power I felt during training lingers in my veins, like embers smoldering just beneath my skin. It’s strange, foreign, yet somehow familiar, as if it’s always been there, waiting to be awakened. But I have no idea how to control it.
As I slip into a shadowed corner of the keep, I close my eyes, focusing on that spark. I have to understand this, to harness it. I can’t afford to be helpless here, not when Lucian and every creature in this realm are watching, waiting for me to slip up.
I stretch out my hand, trying to summon the light I felt before. The air around me crackles faintly, a warmth building in my palm, but it flickers out just as quickly, leaving me frustrated. “Come on,” I mutter, clenching my fists. “I know you’re there. Show yourself.”
The warmth stirs again, a faint glow flaring to life before fading. Each attempt leaves me more exhausted, but I push on, refusing to let this power slip away. If I’m stuck in this world, I won’t be a pawn—not for Lucian, not for anyone.
“You won’t control it that way.”
The voice cuts through the silence, cold and sharp, and I whip around to see Lucian watching me from the shadows. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a hint of something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe, or caution.
I glare at him, frustration simmering just below the surface. “What do you want?” I ask, crossing my arms.
He steps closer, his gaze fixed on my outstretched hand. “You’re playing with forces you don’t understand, Elara. That power… it’s not something you can simply will into submission.”
I grit my teeth, refusing to back down. “Maybe I don’t understand it yet. But I’m not just going to sit here, helpless, while you and your twisted realm try to break me.”
His eyes narrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Helpless? You truly think I’d allow you to remain that way?”
I scoff, anger flaring. “Everything you’ve done since I got here has been about keeping me weak, keeping me… afraid. I don’t need your permission to take control of my own power.”
He chuckles, though there’s no warmth in the sound. “You think strength comes simply because you demand it? Power without control will only destroy you. I’ve seen it before.”
I glare at him, refusing to let him see the doubt creeping in. “Then maybe you’re afraid,” I say, my voice low. “Afraid of what I might become if I actually learn to use it.”
For a moment, he says nothing, his gaze intense. There’s something in his eyes, a hint of reluctance, or perhaps concern. “Afraid?” he murmurs, as if tasting the word. “No. I’m simply… cautious. Power like yours, it doesn’t belong in mortal hands.”
I step closer, lifting my chin defiantly. “Maybe it doesn’t. But it’s mine now, and I’m going to learn how to use it. I won’t let you or anyone else decide what I’m capable of.”
His expression hardens, the amusement fading. “This realm is not a place for experiments, Elara. Your power will drawattention. You’re already marked by the curse—don’t make yourself a target for forces even I can’t protect you from.”
“Then teach me,” I challenge, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “If you’re so concerned, then show me how to control it.”
He smirks, but there’s a hint of respect in his gaze, as though he hadn’t expected me to ask. “Control cannot be taught. It has to be earned, forged through experience… and survival.”
I hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “Fine. Then I’ll survive. But I won’t stay weak.”
For a moment, there’s a flicker of something—almost approval—in his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. “Stubborn, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his tone soft, almost thoughtful.
I clench my fists, the faint warmth of my power stirring again. “You can try to keep me in the dark all you want, but I’m not going to stop. Whatever this power is, I’ll make it mine.”
He sighs, a mixture of frustration and something I can’t quite place. “Very well,” he says, voice cold. “But know this—the Underworld is filled with darkness, with creatures that would rip you apart for daring to wield power. And if you don’t learn quickly, your strength will break you before it ever sets you free.”
I meet his gaze, feeling a surge of defiance. “Then I’ll take that risk.”
He studies me for a moment, as if searching for something, then shakes his head. “So be it. But remember, Elara—this realm will not be merciful, and neither will I. You’re either strong enough to survive… or you’ll be consumed.”
His words hang in the air, cold and unyielding. But I refuse to let them shake me. I’ve come too far, endured too much. If this power is the key to my survival, then I’ll find a way to harness it, no matter what it takes.
Lucian turns to leave, but as he reaches the doorway, he pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. “This power… it will either break you, or it will make you something even I won’t recognize. Be careful what you wish for, Elara.”
With that, he disappears into the shadows, leaving me alone with the faint glow still flickering in my palm. His words echo in my mind, a chilling reminder of the path I’m choosing. But fear won’t stop me. Not anymore.
I close my hand, feeling the warmth settle within me, a quiet promise of the strength I know I can wield. I may not understand this power yet, but I will. I’ll make it mine. And when I do, I’ll be more than just a pawn in Lucian’s world.