Isla's POV
"Don't lie to the Council?" I whispered to Kael as we stood before the seven thrones. "What happens if they think I'm lying?"
"They'll kill you," he said simply. "So tell the truth."
Great. Just great.
The Council member who'd spoken before—a tall man with eyes like burning stars—leaned forward. "We're waiting, human. How did you awaken your Veilweaver blood?"
I swallowed hard. Seven pairs of ancient eyes watched me, judging me, deciding if I deserved to live. My hands shook, but I forced myself to speak.
"I touched a scroll. In the Institute basement where I work—worked." My voice came out stronger than I felt. "It was in a locked storage room that shouldn't have been open. The scroll glowed silver, and when I touched it, symbols burned onto my skin. Then those shadow creatures attacked me."
"A bloodline key," one of the Council members said—a woman with silver hair braided with moonlight. "Someone placed it there deliberately. Someone wanted her to awaken."
"Or someone wanted her dead," another Council member added darkly.
The star-eyed man studied me. "What is your mother's name?"
"Lydia Thorne. She died six years ago in a car accident. At least, that's what I was told."
"Lydia Thorne," Elder Seraphine repeated from where she stood beside the thrones. "I remember that name. She was one of ours—a Veilweaver who chose to live in the human realm. We warned her it was dangerous, but she insisted. She said love was worth the risk."
My heart stopped. "One of yours? My mother was from here?"
"Your mother was born in the Lunar Court," Seraphine confirmed gently. "She fell in love with a human scholar—your father. We tried to convince her to stay, but she chose him. Chose you. The Council allowed it, believing her bloodline might skip your generation."
"It didn't skip," the star-eyed man said coldly. "Which means the girl is half-blood. Diluted. Possibly too weak to be useful."
"Too weak?" Anger flared in my chest, pushing past fear. "I survived shadow creatures. I created a shield with no training. I came through the Veil without dying. How is that weak?"
Several Council members looked surprised. Kael's hand tightened on my wrist in warning—Don't provoke them—but I was done being called weak. Done being told I wasn't good enough.
"The girl has spirit," a third Council member said, sounding almost amused. "I like her."
"Spirit doesn't matter if she can't control her power," another argued. "Untrained Veilweavers are dangerous. They could tear the Veil by accident, let darkness flood through. We should bind her magic until we're certain she's stable."
"Bind her magic?" Kael's voice cut through the room like a blade. "That's the same as killing her. If shadow creatures are already hunting her signature, binding her power won't hide her. It'll just make her defenseless."
"Since when do you care about human lives, Guardian?" the star-eyed man asked pointedly. "In a thousand years, you've never objected to a Council decision. Why start now?"
Kael went very still. The silence stretched.
"Because she's my responsibility," he said finally. "I brought her here. I won't let you harm her."
The Council members exchanged knowing looks. Elder Seraphine smiled softly.
"Interesting," the star-eyed man said. "Very interesting indeed. Tell me, Guardian—did you touch her? Before bringing her through the Veil?"
Kael's jaw tightened. He didn't answer.
"You did, didn't you?" The Council member's burning eyes gleamed. "And something happened. Something that broke your curse, if only a little. That's why you care. That's why you're protecting her."
"What curse?" I looked between them, confused. "What are you talking about?"
Elder Seraphine spoke before Kael could. "Kael Moonsworn accepted a curse a thousand years ago. In exchange for immortality and great power, he gave up his ability to feel emotion. He became the perfect Guardian—no fear, no mercy, no hesitation. For ten centuries, he's been our most effective warrior precisely because he doesn't care about anything."
She looked at Kael with sympathy. "But something changed when he saved you, didn't it? When your souls connected through his act of genuine care—the first genuine care he's shown in a millennium—it began breaking the curse. You made him feel again."
I stared at Kael. "Is that true?"
He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's complicated."
"It's a soul-bond," the star-eyed Council member declared. "Rare. Powerful. Formed not by destiny but by choice—by the Guardian choosing to truly care about saving a life rather than simply completing a mission. This complicates everything."
"Why?" I asked. "What does it mean?"
"It means," Elder Seraphine said gently, "that you and Kael are connected now. Your emotions, your life force, even your pain—they're linked. If you die, part of him dies too. And if he dies..."
"I die too," I finished, my voice hollow. "We're stuck together."
"Not stuck," Seraphine corrected. "Bonded. There's a difference. But yes, your fates are intertwined now."
I looked at Kael, who still wouldn't meet my eyes. This warrior who'd saved my life, who'd brought me to another realm, who'd defied a Council of ancient beings for me—I barely knew him. And now we were permanently connected?
"This is insane," I breathed.
"Welcome to the Lunar Court," Kael muttered.
The star-eyed Council member stood. "The bond changes our decision. We cannot bind her magic without risking harm to our Guardian. And we cannot kill her without killing him." He looked frustrated. "Very well. The girl lives. She will be trained."
Relief flooded through me. I wasn't going to die. Not today, at least.
"However," the Council member continued, "she will be watched carefully. If she shows signs of instability, if her power becomes a threat to the Veil, we will deal with her appropriately. Guardian or no Guardian."
"Understood," Kael said coldly.
"Elder Seraphine will oversee her magical training," the Council member continued. "Guardian Kael will handle her combat training and protection. She will remain in the Court until we determine she's no longer a danger." His burning eyes fixed on me. "Do you accept these terms, Isla Thorne?"
Did I have a choice? "Yes."
"Then this Council session is concluded." He waved his hand dismissively. "Take her to the guest quarters. Tomorrow, her training begins."
Kael pulled me toward the door. I followed in a daze, my mind spinning. My mother was from this realm. I was half immortal. I was bonded to a cursed Guardian. Ancient beings were watching my every move. And tomorrow, I had to start learning to use power I didn't understand.
"Too much," I whispered as we left the palace. "This is all too much."
"I know," Kael said quietly. "But you'll adapt. You're stronger than you think."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're still standing. After everything that happened tonight—the attack, the journey through the Veil, facing the Council—you're still here. Still fighting. That takes strength."
We walked through the glowing streets. People still stared, but some nodded respectfully now. Word had spread fast: the new Veilweaver was under the Guardian's protection.
Kael led me to a building near the palace. Inside was a beautiful apartment—soft carpets, comfortable furniture, a bed that looked like heaven after my lumpy mattress back home.
"This is yours," Kael said. "You'll be safe here. There are guards outside."
"To protect me or watch me?" I asked.
"Both." He turned to leave.
"Wait." I caught his arm. "The soul-bond. Can it be broken?"
He looked at my hand on his arm. Even that small touch sent warmth through both of us—I could feel it, see it in his eyes.
"I don't know," he admitted. "It's incredibly rare. Most texts say soul-bonds are permanent."
"So we're stuck with each other."
"Apparently." He pulled his arm away gently. "Get some rest. Training starts at dawn, and Seraphine won't go easy on you just because you're new."
He left before I could ask more questions.
I stood alone in the apartment, looking out the window at a city with three moons, in a realm I didn't know existed yesterday. My parents were dead—murdered, probably, because of what I might become. My stepmother had betrayed me. Marcus had used me. And now I was bonded to an immortal warrior who was only just learning to feel again.
I should cry. Should break down. Should curl up and wish this was all a nightmare.
Instead, I felt something unexpected: determination.
They thought I was weak? Dangerous? Too human to matter?
I'd prove them all wrong.
I'd learn to control this power. Learn to fight. Learn to survive in this impossible world.
And maybe, just maybe, I'd find out the truth about my parents' deaths.
I was about to lie down when I noticed something on the bedside table. A note, written in elegant script:
Welcome to the Lunar Court, Veilweaver. Your mother would be proud. But be careful—not everyone here wants you to succeed. Some fear your power. Others covet it. Trust no one except those who've proven themselves. The game has already begun, and you're the prize. —A Friend
My blood ran cold.
I grabbed the note and ran to the door, yanking it open. "Kael!"
He appeared instantly, hand on his sword. "What's wrong?"
I showed him the note.
His face darkened as he read it. "Someone got past the guards. Got into your room." He looked at me, and I saw real fear in his eyes. "This isn't just a welcome message. It's a threat."
"What do I do?"
Before he could answer, a scream echoed through the night.
We both ran to the window. In the street below, people scattered in panic. At the center of the chaos stood a figure in black robes, holding something that glowed with dark energy.
"Is that—" I started.
"A dark witch," Kael finished grimly. "And she's calling out your name."
The witch's voice carried up to us, cold and mocking: "Isla Thorne! The Veilweaver! Come down, little half-blood. I have a message from those who killed your mother. They want their property back."
She raised her hand, and the dark energy exploded outward, destroying an entire building.
"Come down now," she called, "or I'll level this entire district. And every death will be on your hands."