Keira's POV
I woke to cold steel pressed against my throat.
"Dead," Silas whispered above me. "If I were an enemy, you'd be dead right now."
My lightning magic exploded instinctively. Blue-white energy crackled across my skin, throwing him backward across the room. He hit the wall with a grunt, then started laughing.
"Still got those killer reflexes," he said, rubbing his shoulder. "Good. You'll need them in Valdoria."
I sat up, heart pounding. Dawn light filtered through my small window—I'd slept maybe two hours. The wooden horse sat on my packed bag, that strange symbol seeming to glow in the morning sun.
"You trying to get yourself killed?" I snapped. "Breaking into my room like that?"
"I needed to make sure you were ready." Silas stood, his expression turning serious. "Keira, about last night. What I was trying to tell you—"
"Don't." I cut him off, pulling on my boots. "Grandmother doesn't want us talking about it. You heard her."
"Grandmother doesn't control everything."
I froze. In fifteen years, I'd never heard anyone say those words. Never heard anyone question her authority. It felt like blasphemy.
"She controls everything that matters," I said carefully. "She saved me, Silas. Saved both of us. Without the Covenant, we'd be dead in some gutter."
"Would we?" His green eyes locked onto mine. "Or would we be something else? Someone else?"
The air between us crackled with tension. My lightning magic sparked nervously.
"What's wrong with you?" I demanded. "This is my final test. You should be happy for me."
Silas crossed the room in three strides. Before I could react, he pulled a dagger from his belt—beautiful, deadly, with a lightning bolt etched into the blade.
"I am happy. And terrified." He pressed the dagger into my hands. "Take this. For luck. For... protection."
The weapon felt perfect in my grip, balanced and light. "It's beautiful."
"It's spelled. The blade will always find your hand if you drop it. And Keira..." He hesitated. "If things go wrong in Valdoria. If you discover something that changes everything. Use this dagger to come back to me. Not to the Covenant. To me. Do you understand?"
I didn't understand. Not at all.
"Silas, you're scaring me."
"Good. You should be scared." He cupped my face with both hands, and I saw something I'd never seen before—tears in his eyes. "I love you. I've loved you since we were kids training together. And I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
He kissed my forehead, then stepped back. "For not being brave enough to tell you the truth before it's too late. For being a coward. For—"
The door burst open. Grandmother Nyx stood there, her black eyes blazing with fury.
"Silas. Training yard. Now." Her voice could freeze blood.
He flinched but nodded, giving me one last desperate look before fleeing. Grandmother watched him go, then turned that terrifying gaze on me.
"What did he tell you?"
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just wished me luck on the mission."
She studied me for a long moment. I forced myself not to look away, not to show fear. Finally, she smiled—that cold, cruel smile that meant someone was about to suffer.
"Good. Because if Silas has been filling your head with doubts, I'll have to remove his tongue." She moved closer, her ancient fingers trailing across my packed bag. "Are you ready, my lightning blade?"
"Yes, Grandmother."
"Repeat your mission parameters."
I recited them like a prayer. "Infiltrate Valdoria's palace. Locate Prince Caelan Stormwright. Eliminate him silently. Escape before dawn. Return with proof of death."
"And if you fail?"
My throat tightened. "I won't fail."
"But if you do?" Her nails dug into my shoulder. "If you hesitate? If you let emotions cloud your judgment? If you prove yourself weak?"
"Then I don't deserve to come back," I whispered.
"Correct." She released me, satisfied. "But there's more at stake than your pride, child. The client paying for this assassination is powerful. Very powerful. If you fail, they won't just kill you—they'll destroy the Covenant. Every assassin here. Every student. Everyone you've ever trained with. All dead because of your weakness."
Ice flooded my veins. "I won't fail."
"See that you don't." Grandmother turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Keira? When you meet Prince Caelan, look carefully at his face. Really look. You might find it... familiar."
Before I could ask what she meant, she was gone.
I spent the morning in the training yard, practicing my lightning magic until my arms ached. Other assassins kept their distance—everyone knew I was leaving for my final test. Some looked envious. Others looked relieved they weren't me.
Master Chen, the weapons trainer, watched me throw knives at moving targets. Every blade hit perfectly.
"You're ready," he said gruffly. "More than ready. But Keira... be careful in Valdoria. That principality isn't like other kingdoms. The prince isn't like other targets."
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I exploded. "What's so special about this prince?"
Master Chen's scarred face softened with something like pity. "You'll see soon enough. Just... trust your instincts. Even if they go against everything you've been taught."
He walked away before I could press him further.
What weren't they telling me?
At noon, I stood at the fortress gates with my pack and Silas's dagger strapped to my thigh. The horse was already saddled, provisions loaded. I was ready.
Silas appeared one last time, pressing a folded piece of paper into my hand. "Don't read this until you're far from here. Promise me."
"I promise."
"And Keira? Whatever happens in Valdoria... remember that family isn't always the people who raised you. Sometimes it's the people who should have." His voice cracked. "Sometimes it's the people stolen from you."
Before I could respond, he was gone.
I mounted my horse and rode through the gates, confusion and unease churning in my gut. The folded paper burned in my pocket like a secret I wasn't ready to know.
Three days to Valdoria. Three days to complete my final test.
Three days until I killed a prince whose face might be "familiar."
I didn't open Silas's note until I was miles from the fortress, deep in the forest where no one could see. My hands trembled as I unfolded the paper.
Only three words were written there, in Silas's messy handwriting:
He's your twin.
The paper fell from my numb fingers.
No. Impossible. That couldn't be—
But suddenly everything made sense. The symbol on my wooden horse. Grandmother's cruel excitement. The way everyone looked at me with pity.
They'd raised me to kill my own brother.
My lightning magic exploded outward in a wave of pure shock, scorching the trees around me. My horse reared in panic. And somewhere deep in my chest, something cracked—the first fracture in the perfect weapon they'd created.
I was riding toward my twin brother.
And I had three days to decide whether to kill him.