Keira's POV
The knife slid into the merchant's throat before he could scream.
I caught his body as it fell, lowering him silently to the rain-soaked alley floor. Blood mixed with rainwater, swirling down the gutter in dark ribbons. My hands didn't shake. They never did anymore.
"Target eliminated," I whispered into the communication crystal in my ear. "Ninety-nine down."
"Clean kill?" Silas's voice crackled back.
I checked the merchant's pockets, finding the evidence Grandmother Nyx wanted—documents proving he'd been selling children to slavery rings. My stomach should have turned. Once, maybe it would have. Now I just felt... nothing.
"Clean," I confirmed.
The rain washed the blood from my hands as I slipped through the shadows, leaving the dead man behind like I'd left ninety-eight others before him. The city guards wouldn't find him until morning. By then, I'd be gone.
The Shadow Covenant fortress loomed against the midnight sky like a nightmare carved from stone. Home. The only home I'd ever known.
I entered through the secret tunnel, my wet boots silent on ancient floors. Other assassins nodded as I passed—some younger students who looked at me with awe, some older killers who looked at me with respect. At twenty-one, I was already a legend here.
The Lightning Blade. That's what they called me.
"Keira!" Silas appeared from the training hall, his handsome face breaking into a grin. "Ninety-nine! One more and you'll be a Master Assassin. I knew you'd do it."
Something warm flickered in my chest. Silas was the closest thing I had to a brother. We'd trained together since we were kids, competed for Grandmother's approval, survived the brutal tests that killed weaker students.
"The merchant?" he asked.
"Dead. The documents are being delivered to Grandmother now." I pushed wet hair from my face. "Where is she?"
Silas's grin faded. "Throne room. She's been waiting for you. Keira... she seems different tonight. Excited about something."
My pulse quickened. In fifteen years, I'd never seen Grandmother Nyx excited. Cold, yes. Calculating, always. But excited? That meant something big.
Something dangerous.
"I should go," I said.
Silas caught my arm. His green eyes searched my face with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. "When you become a Master... you won't forget about me, right? We'll still be partners?"
"Always," I promised, though I didn't understand why he looked so worried.
The throne room was empty except for Grandmother Nyx.
She sat in her massive black chair like a queen made of nightmares. Ancient and terrifying, with ink-black eyes that saw through every lie, every weakness. My earliest memory was of those eyes watching me cry myself to sleep after my first kill.
"My beautiful lightning," she purred as I knelt before her. "Ninety-nine souls to your credit. You've made me so proud."
Pride. The word wrapped around my heart like a warm blanket. I lived for those rare moments when Grandmother showed approval.
"Thank you, Grandmother," I said. "I'm ready for my hundredth mission. Ready to become a Master."
"Oh, this one will be special." She leaned forward, and I saw it—excitement gleaming in those black depths. "Your final test will prove whether you're truly my greatest creation. Whether fifteen years of training has forged you into the perfect weapon."
My lightning magic crackled beneath my skin, responding to my anticipation. "I won't fail you."
"No," she agreed. "You won't. Because failure means death. Not just yours—but the deaths of everyone in this fortress. Do you understand?"
Ice flooded my veins. "What's the target?"
Grandmother Nyx smiled, and it was the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen.
"Prince Caelan Stormwright of Valdoria. The rising leader of that disgusting new principality that dares to challenge the old kingdoms." She stood, moving toward me with the grace of a predator. "He's young, powerful, and dangerous. His death will trigger a war that will make us richer than kings. The contract is worth more gold than you've seen in your entire life."
My heart pounded. A prince. I'd killed merchants, traitors, even minor nobles. But royalty? That was Master-level work.
"I'll do it," I said without hesitation. "When do I leave?"
"Tomorrow at dawn." Grandmother's cold hand touched my cheek almost lovingly. "But Keira... there's something you should know about this prince. Something that makes this mission particularly... poetic."
"What?"
Her smile widened. "You'll see when you meet him. Let's just say destiny has a sense of humor." She turned away, dismissing me. "Kill Prince Caelan, and you'll be not just a Master Assassin. You'll be legendary. The girl who started a war."
I should have asked more questions. Should have demanded to know what she meant about destiny and poetry. But I was too excited, too desperate to prove myself worthy of her love.
I bowed and left, already planning the assassination in my head.
Behind me, Grandmother Nyx's laughter echoed through the empty throne room. If I'd turned back, I might have seen the cruel satisfaction in her eyes. Might have realized that I wasn't her greatest creation.
I was her favorite toy.
And she was about to watch me break in the most entertaining way possible.
In my small room, I packed light. Two daggers, poison vials, a map of Valdoria, and my black travel cloak. On my bedside table sat a small wooden horse—the only possession I had from before the Covenant found me. I couldn't remember who gave it to me, but I kept it anyway.
A knock interrupted my preparations.
"Come in," I called.
Silas entered, looking pale. "Keira, I heard about your final mission. Prince Caelan? That's suicide. He's protected by the best guards on the continent, his palace has magical wards, and—"
"I can handle it."
"You don't understand." He grabbed my shoulders, his voice urgent. "This prince, there's something about him that Grandmother isn't telling you. I overheard her talking to the client. Keira, you need to—"
The communication crystal on my desk blazed red. Grandmother's voice filled the room like poison. "Silas. Leave. Now."
He flinched but didn't move. "Keira—"
"NOW."
Silas's hands fell away. He looked at me one last time, something desperate in his eyes. "Be careful. Please."
Then he was gone.
I stared at the closed door, unease crawling up my spine. What wasn't Grandmother telling me? What was so special about Prince Caelan Stormwright?
The wooden horse on my bedside table caught my eye. In the candlelight, I noticed something I'd never seen before—a tiny symbol carved into its base. A lightning bolt crossed with wind swirls.
My lightning magic sparked involuntarily.
Why did that symbol feel familiar? Like a memory I couldn't quite reach?
I shook my head, shoving the horse into my pack. It didn't matter. In three days, Prince Caelan would be dead, I'd be a Master Assassin, and Grandmother would finally tell me she loved me.
That's all that mattered.
Outside my window, storm clouds gathered on the horizon, lightning flickering in their depths. I didn't know it then, but those clouds were rolling in from Valdoria.
From the home I couldn't remember.
From the brother I'd been trained to kill.