The Bleeding Dunes stretched endlessly, a wasteland of crimson sand and bone-dry wind. Ancient whispers rode the dust like spirits too tired to haunt, and every hill looked the same as the one before.
But Kade had never looked more certain.
"He's here," he said. "I can scent him."
"You said the same thing three dunes ago," Reid muttered, brushing sweat from his brow.
"This scent is different," Kade replied. "It's wild. Untamed. It reeks of power."
Aria didn't argue.
Her mark had been burning for two nights straight—hotter than ever. The pull to the fourth Moonborn was undeniable, like a thread wrapped around her soul, tightening with each step deeper into the sands.
Beside her, Mira said nothing. She hadn't spoken since they left Hollowmarsh.
She didn't need to.
Her dreams were showing her things now.
Flashes.
A boy kneeling in ash.
A silver blade drawn across his palm.
A voice saying: "You are not a child of the moon. You are its weapon."
---
They found him at sundown.
He stood alone atop a dune, the wind whipping his dark hair across his face. A sandstorm raged behind him, swirling unnaturally—controlled, restrained. His skin was sun-dark, his frame lean, muscled. Barefoot.
Waiting.
"You took your time," he said without turning.
"Name?" Kade asked.
The boy tilted his head. "Kai."
Aria stepped forward. "You're Moonborn."
Kai turned his gaze on her. His eyes were golden. Not like Varian's—these were pure, glowing like sunlight over still water.
"I know what I am," he said. "Do you?"
Aria hesitated. "We've come to find the Moonborn. There's something coming—someone."
"Varian," Kai said, spitting the name like poison. "He tried to reach me. In dreams. Through storms. He wants my power."
"He can't have it," Aria said.
Kai's eyes flickered. "You think you can stop him?"
"We already severed his hold on me," she said, showing her bare wrist. "You're stronger with us."
Kai stepped closer. "You're the one they talk about. The girl who glows. The girl with the mark."
"I'm just someone trying to survive."
"No," Kai said. "You're more than that. I've seen it."
---
That night, they camped beneath a rock overhang. The winds had calmed, but the sand still hissed with unseen movement.
Kai sat apart, sharpening a curved dagger with careful, methodical movements. Mira approached first, offering a canteen. He accepted it silently.
"You hear them too?" she asked. "The voices?"
He nodded. "All the time."
Aria sat beside him. "What did they tell you?"
Kai paused. "That we were created as a weapon. That we're meant to cleanse the cursed bloodline."
"You mean Varian's?"
Kai shook his head slowly. "No. I mean all of them."
Reid stiffened. "What do you mean by that?"
Kai stood. "The Moonborn weren't just protectors. We were made in the beginning as judges. To keep the balance. If the bloodlines corrupted, we were supposed to end them."
"That's not true," Kade growled. "The packs were always built on unity."
"Then why did they start killing us?" Kai asked, voice cold. "Why did they lock Mira underground? Why did they bind Lyra in chains? Why did they come for me when I was six years old?"
Silence.
Aria looked down. "Because they're afraid of us."
"Exactly," Kai said. "And fear becomes cruelty."
---
Later that night, Aria couldn't sleep.
She walked out onto a flat rock overlooking the dunes. The moon was high, casting silver light over the red sands. Her mark glowed in response.
Kade joined her quietly.
"Trouble sleeping?" he asked.
"Too many thoughts."
"What do you think of Kai?"
"He's powerful. But… angry."
"He's been alone a long time."
"We all have," she said softly. "Even when we were surrounded."
Kade stepped closer. "We're not alone anymore."
She looked up at him. "Do you believe the prophecy?"
He hesitated. "I believe you."
Then his hand brushed hers—warm, steady.
She didn't pull away.
And for a moment, the fear, the curses, the blood—all of it disappeared beneath the moon.
---
But in the darkness beyond the firelight, something watched.
A shadow coiled across the sand. Eyes like coals blinked.
And then—it spoke.
"He's found them all."
---
Elsewhere…
Varian stood atop a black tower, wind howling around him. The bindings around his arms shimmered with energy, pulsing with each name spoken.
"Lyra," he said.
One chain snapped.
"Mira."
Another broke.
"Kai."
A third turned to dust.
And then—he whispered the final name:
"Aria."
He opened his palm. A single drop of blood hovered in the air.
The seal glowed.
And the sky split with thunder.