CHAPTER I

It’s much easier to kill a person than it is to bury them.

A yawn slips past my lips as I rub my sleep-deprived eyes, struggling to see through the darkness. Not even the moon wants to be awake at this hour, its figure shrouded by the clouds. The humid air is still and unmoving, like the corpse lying near my head.

The woman’s wide eyes stare at me, and I shudder as her screams echo in my mind. The smell of her blood lingering in my nose and staining the sword sheathed at my side. Despite the ache in my muscles, I peel my gaze away from her and continue digging her grave. Because it’s easier than asking for forgiveness that I’ll never receive.

And why would I?

I’m the one who murdered her. Along with all the other bodies buried in this graveyard. Because for them, death is the price to pay for being born. All of them were deemed a disgrace, their blood ruined, mixed with a lesser race.

Which is why the irony of my existence never fails to amuse me. Burying bodies when I should be lying right next to them, knowing I share the same ruined blood, mixed with a human, no less.

I stick the shovel into the ground before hopping out of the hole to crouch in front of the body. A small breeze brushes against the corpse's long brown hair, revealing the one white horn sticking out on the side of her temple, evidence of her ruined blood. I glance at the white gown I put on her, replacing the bloodstained dress she wore before.

“She was supposed to get married tomorrow,” I whisper.

Not that I should know that. Knowing anything about my victim only makes it harder to kill them. Yet somehow, I do it every time. Letting myself be haunted by the knowledge to make sure I never forget the lives I’ve stolen.

I swallow hard and shrug off my bag, pulling out a bouquet. Carefully, I grab a handkerchief and use it to rest the flowers in her hand, slowly closing her eyes afterward. I stare at her a moment longer, picturing her walking down the aisle before shaking the thought away.

It doesn't take long to fill the grave back up, with a small part indented for me to plant her tombstone.

I finally step back and grab a daisy to place on top, hoping the symbolism of the flower reaches her soul and praying she’ll have a new beginning. One where blood doesn’t bind her, and she can embrace the privileges death brings. A freedom only the living can dream of.

I hold out my hands, taking a deep breath as I feel warmth pool into my palms. A small stream of fire emerges from my hands, and I shoot it towards her grave, burning the topsoil. An act to honor those taken too soon.

“May the first flame welcome you, Fauna,” I whisper, and without looking back, I grab my things and make my way towards the front gates.

What’s the point of doing this?

The question makes me stop, silence settling everywhere but my mind, where that voice lives. Telling me all the truths I refuse to acknowledge, never letting me forget. A piece of me I buried so deeply that I had to give it a name just to pretend it wasn't my own thoughts.

“What do you mean, Zira?” I ask, looking insane as I talk to no one.

Why go through the effort to bury them like it’ll make up for you killing them?

Before I can respond, a flicker of light draws my attention.

In the distance, someone hunches near a tree with a torch and bouquet. They look around before dropping the flowers at the base of the tree, and I watch them until they leave, disappearing into the forest beyond the hill.

The metal rods of the gate creak open as I leave, failing to quietly close them behind me. How did they even get over there? This entire plot is private property.

Curious, I make my way up the hill, shocked to find a small tombstone at the base of the tree. The clouds part just enough for me to make out the name, almost as if it wants me to read it. I pull up my sleeve to wipe the mud off the stone and go still, staring at the engraving.

“Aisha Elara Bourne—Lunaris. Let the earth hold what fate couldn’t handle.”

A chill crawls down my spine as I stare at my name carved into the stone, and a surname I’ve never heard. I try to clean the rest of it to find a death, but the snap of a branch makes my breath hitch. My body tenses and my hand slowly reaches for my weapon,

“What are you doing?” A low voice asks, and I spin around, hand resting on the pommel of my sword. The person pulls their hood back, and bright pink hair falls down her shoulders in waves. Her bare feet pad against the grass as she steps closer, and I stop her, letting my sword fill the space between us.

“You can stop there.” My words portray a confidence I don’t have as her piercing gaze unsettles me. For a moment she looks like she might walk away, but her eyes narrow as she looks me up and down.

“Who are you?” She asks, her voice unnaturally perfect like a siren.

“I don’t believe you need to know,” I state, and her eyes widen as she tilts her head, watching me as I slowly walk around her to leave. She says nothing else and lets me go, her attention shifting to the gravestone while I head down the hill.

“Let the earth hold what fate couldn’t handle?” I mutter to myself, trying to make sense of what that meant. Or if there’s even a body buried beneath. Because it can’t be, not while I’m here, healthy and alive.

…Right?

“How did you know that girl?” The woman demands as she grabs my arm from behind, startling me. “How did you know that girl?” She repeats, nails digging into my skin as she grabs both my arms.

“Get off me!” But her grip only tightens as her hands begin to warm my skin, and I wince, the heat burning me.

“How do you know about that grave? Who are you!” A plume of smoke curls underneath her hands, and I bite back a scream as she burns through my sleeve. “Tell me—”

I jerk from her hold and headbutt her, using the momentum to free myself. She staggers back with a wince, and I take off in a sprint, yanking my coat off and ripping it to wrap around my now blistering skin.

Just as I reach the bottom of the hill, she grabs my throat and slams me into the ground. A sharp crack sounds in my ears, and pain erupts through my spine. Numbness creeps into my legs, and I reach for my throat to pry her hands off.

The world muffles to the pounding of my heartbeat, and panic floods me as I shove weakly against her, desperate for air. Fighting to think past the pressure at my throat, I reach for my sword, everything narrowing to the blade between my palms.

I drive it up, sinking it into the soft hollow beneath her ribs. Her grip loosens with a strangled cry, and I kick her off, rolling to my side as air rushes into my lungs. Despite my throbbing blisters, I crawl away as quickly as I can. But she lunges and grabs my ankle, yanking me back so hard the pop in my kneecap rips a scream out of me.

My sword still rests in her chest, and she rips it out, a trail of purple-slicked blood dripping down her coat. My heart sinks when she slowly raises it, hovering it between my eyes.

“No…” she whispers, leaning in closer to grab my face. “I-I watched your body burn.” Her face softens for a moment as her grip on the sword loosens and I swallow hard as I reach for it. But she quickly takes notice and yanks it back, a scowl stretching her lips.

Without hesitation, she sinks it into me, piercing my lower stomach. My scream echoes throughout the night as she pushes it in further before twisting it, my throat raw and eyes watered. My blood spills into my hands as I fail to stop the blood from flowing, panting hard as my vision blurs

“I don’t know how you cheated death or how you managed to evade us all these years, but,” she leans close to whisper, her gaze empty and cold as she plants a kiss on my cheek.

“Do us all a favor and stay dead this time, Aisha…”

She walks away, and my body hits the ground. My arms tremble at my sides, shaking as I try to grab the sword. But a searing heat makes me stop as it spreads through every vein in my body, and my skin feels like something crawls beneath it, begging to escape.

The ground beneath me blackens, grass curling into ash with every faint wheeze that leaves me. My fire flickers across my fingertips without me summoning it, devouring everything they touch. It grows wilder, and I wince as the flames burn even me.

I pant as it surrounds me, trying to will my body to move. But numbness has crept into my bones, and I can only watch as the fire grows higher…and whiter.

Why is the fire white?

But before I can get a good look at it, the flames are snuffed and a shudder rips through me at the sudden cold creeping into my body. I try to reach for the sword again, but the heat returns, hotter than the last as it tears through me. Almost as if the flames went within.

My body convulses as I claw at my chest, choking on my sobs as I beg whatever’s willing to listen to ease the pain. Steam curls off my skin and through the smoke I faintly make out a figure walking towards me.

A pair of yellow eyes gaze at me. Ink spirals across his arm, a rose vine tattoo etched from wrist to shoulder, the petals dark against his golden-brown skin. His shirt is scorched through, exposing parts of his chest where the art continues further.

But the image of him starts to blur the harder I look, slipping away from me like water. My eyelids droop, and I blink, desperate to keep him in focus.

“Please…” I beg, the simple word taking all of my energy just to speak. “Help me.” He leans over me, his chest heaving and eyes as wild as the singed hair falling into his face. His hand hovers over me, almost like he’s uncertain if he should touch me.

Another surge of heat courses through me and I scream, my stomach burning as both my attacker’s blood and mine seep together. Did she somehow poison the blade?

The man stares at me, and it feels as if something inside me cracks, his eyes bringing forth a scene I can’t recall. Fragments of a memory slipping through.

With gentle care, he lifts me and pulls out a vial, bringing it to my lips. The taste of honey fills my mouth, and my eyes flutter shut, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. His last words are barely audible as my body finally goes limp.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this soon… not when you’re still unprepared to face him.”