Keal's POV
He had seen death.
He had caused it.
He had stood at the edge of war, face to face with monsters cloaked in man's flesh.
But he had never felt fear like this.
Kyra collapsed into his arms, her body limp and fragile as if the explosion of magic had drained the very life from her. Keal caught her easily, cradling her like a fragile bird.
"Kyra," he whispered, voice rough with something close to desperation. "Please… don't."
Her skin was hot — too hot — like she was still burning from within. Faint silvery wisps of light curled from her fingers, fading like the last glow of embers in a dying fire. Her breath was shallow, lips parted slightly.
Keal pressed his forehead gently against hers. Nothing else mattered right now. Not the Council, not Lorian standing tense behind him, not the damage left in their wake.
He'd seen her speak the ancient words — the ones no one alive had uttered for centuries — and tear through their magic like it was paper. And she hadn't even known what she was doing.
Whatever Kyra was… she was no ordinary witch.
He shifted, holding her closer, and that's when he noticed the pain that had plagued him moments before — the sharp stab across his ribs, the bruises blooming across his chest, the sting of lashes along his back — all vanished.
Keal pulled back, heart pounding. His shirt was torn in several places, but beneath the ragged fabric, his skin was smooth, unmarked. No bruises, no cuts, no blood.
The wounds had healed themselves.
"It's happening again," Keal muttered, almost to himself.
Lorian glanced over his shoulder. "Your vampire healing."
Keal nodded slowly. "The Council's magic was holding it back, but now… it's like I'm whole again."
The strength in his limbs returned, the ache fading to nothing. It was the way of his kind — wounds closing in seconds, pain washing away like water off stone.
Yet tonight, that gift felt heavier than ever.
Because Kyra was here now.
Kyra — whose magic had shattered the Council's spell.
Kyra — who had spoken the ancient tongue like it was part of her blood.
Keal looked down at her face, pale and fragile as moonlight.
"You saved me," he said softly. "And you don't even know who you are."
Lorian remained silent but his eyes burned with understanding — or maybe fear. "You were right," he said at last. "She's connected to something older than us all. The First Circle. The Originals."
Keal's breath hitched. "You mean… she's descended from them?"
Lorian nodded slowly. "If what I saw was true, she carries their blood — and their power. The kind that even the Council fears."
The forest around them still crackled with the echoes of battle — snapped branches, scorched earth, and the sharp scent of burnt magic.
The Council had fled. For now. But the war was far from over.
A soft groan from Kyra broke the silence.
Keal's heart clenched. Relief flooded his veins as she blinked, trying to focus on him.
"What… happened?" she whispered, voice weak.
"You happened," Keal said, a faint smile touching his lips — though his eyes remained wary. "You set the world on fire."
Kyra tried to sit up, confusion clouding her features, but Keal gently pressed her back down. "Rest. Just rest."
She shivered, her hand brushing his arm. "I said words. Words I've never heard. But I knew them — like they were part of me."
Keal glanced at Lorian, who spoke quietly, "The ancient tongue. Lost for centuries. Only blood of the First Circle can call it forth."
Kyra's eyes widened. "I don't understand."
"You will," Keal promised, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "We'll find the answers."
Suddenly, a sharp gust rustled the leaves, and Keal's senses sharpened. Something watched them. Not the Council — something older, colder, and waiting.
He tightened his grip on Kyra. "We need to move. Now."
Lorian nodded, already scanning the shadows. "Soraya's shelter is close — an old circle protected by ancient magic. She'll feel the disturbance."
Keal lifted Kyra gently into his arms, feeling the steady warmth of her pulse against his chest. The night air was heavy — charged — as if the land itself held its breath.
Kyra's magic hadn't just shattered the Council's spells.
It had awakened something.
And Keal feared that whatever was coming next would be far more dangerous than any enemy they had faced before.
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