Dominic dropped to the other side, catching the kid’s shoulders before he could crack his skull on the cobblestone. The contact sizzled through him like static.
“Don’t touch him bare-skinned,” Lillith warned. “That magic—it’s?—”
“Fae,” Dominic finished, his voice low and guttural. “Thaloryn.”
She looked up sharply, eyes wide with horror and understanding. “It’s the same as the shadow beast. The same stink, the same feel. But this—this is worse.”
The runes crawled higher, now wrapping up the boy’s throat like black vines. He gurgled, gasping, fingers clawing at his chest. The sigils weren’t just etched into skin anymore—they were burning into bone.
“He’s being marked,” Lillith whispered. “Claimed.”
Dominic’s blood ran cold.
“Then he’s turning them into what?” he asked. “Weapons? Hosts?”
“Conduits,” she breathed. “He’s not just spreading chaos. He’s spreading himself.”
The market had gone deathly quiet. Even the breeze had vanished. Townsfolk stood frozen behind fruit stalls and charm booths, eyes wide, faces pale. And not one of them moved forward.
Only Dominic. Only Lillith.
Bea appeared at his side with a hissed curse, tossing a protective ward circle onto the ground. It sparked to life, a dome of silver shimmer enclosing the boy and those close to him.
“It’s spreading too fast,” she said. “Whatever you do, do it now.”
Dominic glanced at Lillith. Her hands trembled over the boy’s chest, magic pulsing at her fingertips, but the runes resisted her power like oil to water.
“They’re repelling me,” she said, face taut with frustration. “They know I’m trying to break it.”
Dominic’s heart pounded like thunder.
This wasn’t a fluke. This wasn’t an isolated case of cursed magic.
This was a warning.
A message.
“I think he’s awake,” Lillith muttered.
Dominic blinked. “What?”
“Look.” She nodded at the boy’s eyes. The whites were gone, replaced with ember-red orbs—too bright, too knowing.
And they were staring directly at Dominic.
Not through him.
Athim.
The boy's lips twitched. Cracked. And in a voice not his own, a voice laced with a dozen others, low and regal and cold as winter death, he said:
“You should have stayed in the wild, lion.”
Dominic reeled back.
Lillith gasped. “That’s not him.”
“No,” Dominic growled, nostrils flaring. “That’shim.That’s Thaloryn.”
