Blood-Bound Legacy

The Blood-Bound series

Chapter 1: The Forbidden Tome

Kian had always felt the weight of his family’s history, but it wasn’t until
he found the book that he truly understood why. It had been tucked away,
hidden beneath the floorboards of the attic in a chest that had long since
gathered dust. His father had always told him to stay out of that part of
the house, to never ask questions about the family heirlooms, but
curiosity had gnawed at Kian for years.

Today, that curiosity had gotten the best of him.

He crouched down, the floor creaking under his weight, and pried the
chest open. The musty smell of old leather and parchment filled the air,
mixing with the scent of dust and time. Inside the chest lay a thick book,
its cover worn and faded, as if it had been handled by generations of
hands. The edges of the pages were darkened, and a strange, metallic
glint seemed to shimmer from the book's center.

Kian hesitated, fingers hovering over the cover. It felt... wrong, like
something that had been forgotten for a reason. His heart raced as he
picked it up, feeling the weight of it in his hands. The title was written in a
language he didn’t recognize, the letters swirling into shapes that seemed
to dance before his eyes. There was no title, no name, nothing that gave
away its origin.

But the book felt alive in his hands, and Kian knew, deep down, that he
wasn’t supposed to be touching it.

Without warning, the book slipped from his grasp, landing with a heavy
thud on the floor. It opened on its own, and the pages fluttered as though
caught in an unseen wind. Kian stepped back, unease creeping up his
spine. Then, without any clear reason, he reached out and let his palm
hover above the open pages.

A flash of pain shot through his hand as if the air itself had turned to fire.
He hissed, pulling his hand back, but it was too late. The book seemed to
pulse, its pages fluttering faster now, as though drawing in the blood that
was dripping from his cut. The pain intensified for a moment, and then—
just as suddenly as it had come—it stopped.

Kian looked down at his hand. The blood had vanished, but his skin
tingled, as if the book had left a mark on him. His pulse quickened. There
was no way that had just happened. But when he glanced back at the
book, he saw something that made his stomach twist.

The pages had stopped moving. And there, scrawled across the next open
page, was something new—words he had never seen before, written in his
own handwriting.

It was a warning.

“You are bound to it now.”

Kian’s heart skipped a beat. He slammed the book shut, but it felt as
though the weight of it had burrowed under his skin, its presence lingering
like a shadow. He sat down, trying to steady his breath, but his mind
raced. What had he just done? And why did it feel like the book was calling
to him now?

As he stared at the faded cover, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his life
—his very existence—had just changed forever.
Chapter 2: First Blood

Kian couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the book’s pages
flashed before his mind, the strange, cryptic writing lingering like a
shadow over him. He could still feel the sting in his palm, where the blood
had mingled with the book’s dark magic, but it was more than just a
physical sensation. It was as though something inside him had awakened,
a part of him that was both foreign and terrifying.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his hands together, trying to ignore the subtle
hum of power that seemed to pulse beneath his skin. The book was no
longer in the attic. Kian had hidden it under his bed, hoping that out of
sight would mean out of mind. But the strange connection between him
and it only grew stronger. The pull, the hunger, it was growing inside him.

His father’s voice echoed in his mind: “Stay away from the past, Kian. It’s
better that way. You don’t want to know everything.”

But the thing was, Kian already knew too much. And now, he couldn’t
ignore the truth. The book was his burden, his curse. No matter how hard
he tried to push it aside, it was there, waiting.

He felt a deep gnawing in his gut—a hunger that had nothing to do with
food. It was a craving, a need, and the more he resisted it, the more
intense it became. It was as though something was calling out to him from
the depths of the book, urging him to embrace what he was becoming.

But Kian wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet.

The next day, he tried to go about his routine as if nothing had changed.
School was a distraction, a place where he could at least pretend to be
normal. But it didn’t last. Not when Jax was there.
Jax was a Level 1 fire user. It wasn’t hard to see. The boy had a cocky grin
and a reputation for picking fights. Kian had never been one to back down,
but lately, something inside him was different—more volatile, more prone
to snap.

“Hey, Kian,” Jax taunted, his voice cutting through the crowded hallways.
“Heard you found something interesting in the attic. Something that
doesn’t belong to you.”

Kian clenched his fists, trying to ignore the rising tide of anger that surged
in his chest. He couldn’t afford to lose control—not now. But Jax’s smug
face, his mocking tone, it was like a match to gasoline.

“What do you want, Jax?” Kian growled, stepping closer. He was trying to
stay calm, but the words tasted bitter on his tongue.

Jax’s grin widened. “Just wanted to see how long you could keep up the
act. You really think you’re better than the rest of us, huh? Think you’re
special?”

Kian’s fists tightened. The book’s power whispered in his mind, urging him
to let go, to unleash the fire that was building inside him.

“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” Kian muttered, before he
could stop himself.

The air around them seemed to crackle with tension, and for a moment,
Kian felt the heat rise. He felt it in his fingertips first—a burning sensation,
like fire flickering just below the surface. His breathing grew shallow, and
his vision narrowed, focusing only on Jax, the boy who had pushed him too
far.

“Enough!” Kian shouted, unable to hold back anymore. The words were
barely out of his mouth before a burst of green flame shot from his hands,
searing the air.
Jax’s eyes widened in shock, but it was too late. The green flames
crackled, turning the air thick and heavy with heat. It wasn’t like anything
Kian had seen before. The fire wasn’t orange or red—it was a deep,
unnatural green, like it had been drawn from the very depths of the earth.

The flames licked the walls, scorching them in an instant, leaving marks
that would never fade. Kian stood frozen, stunned by the sheer force of it.
He hadn’t meant to do that. The fire had been so much more than he’d
imagined. It felt alive, more dangerous, more uncontrollable than he could
have ever guessed.

Jax stumbled back, his face twisted in fear. “What the hell was that?” he
gasped.

Kian blinked, his hands trembling, the fire flickering and dying down
around him. His chest heaved with breath, and his heart pounded in his
ears. This wasn’t just anger. It wasn’t just some outburst. This was
something else. Something more.

“What... what did I do?” Kian whispered to himself.

Lena appeared at his side, her expression a mix of concern and

understanding. “Kian...” she said softly. “You’re not okay.”

The hunger was still there, gnawing at him, demanding more. And now
Kian knew one thing for sure: the book wasn’t just a piece of history—it
was a part of him now. A dangerous, uncontrollable part.

But as the green flames died, Kian felt something else stir deep within him
—a strange, unfamiliar energy. It was faint at first, but he could feel it,
almost as if the book was offering him more than just fire. It was like the
whispers in the back of his mind were hinting at another power, one
waiting for him to discover it. It was a pull, another part of the book’s dark
legacy, waiting to be unlocked
Chapter 3: A Fire Within

Kian couldn’t stop thinking about the fire. It had felt so real, so powerful,
and yet so uncontrollable. The way it had erupted from his hands, the
green flames licking the air like something alive, it was more than he had
ever imagined. His heart still pounded with the adrenaline from the
encounter, but underneath that rush was a deeper, more unsettling
feeling: fear.

What had he become?

He had no idea how long he had stood there, frozen in the aftermath of
the fire. The hallways were eerily quiet now, as though everyone had
vanished the moment the flames subsided. Kian’s hands shook, and the
taste of smoke lingered in the back of his throat.

Jax had already disappeared—no doubt running to save face and tell
everyone about the freak show he’d just witnessed. Kian didn’t care. It
wasn’t Jax who he was worried about. It was the power, the fire that had
come from him so easily.

“What the hell’s wrong with me?” Kian muttered, pacing back and forth in
the empty hallway. He could still feel the hunger gnawing at him, urging
him to let go, to feed the flames, to give in to whatever this was. But he
didn’t want to. Not yet.

Lena found him later, just outside the school gates. She looked worried,
her brow furrowed as she approached him. Kian could tell she was trying
not to show it, but the concern was written all over her face.

“Kian,” she said softly, her voice like a balm to his restless mind. “Are you
alright?”
He swallowed hard, glancing down at his hands. They were still trembling.
The flames had burned away any normality, any sense of control. How
could he be alright?

“I—I don’t know,” he admitted, voice shaking. “That wasn’t supposed to

happen. It just... it just did.”

Lena placed a hand on his arm, her touch grounding him. “I saw what
happened. You didn’t mean to. You’ve never shown any signs of being a
fire user, Kian. Maybe it’s a... a reaction to something.”

“Reaction to what?” Kian scoffed, pulling away from her. “To the fact that
I’ve got some kind of... curse inside me now? I’ve been hearing things,
Lena. The book... It’s like it’s talking to me. It’s not just the fire. There’s
something else, something waiting inside me.”

Lena’s expression darkened, her eyes darting around as if she were

expecting someone to overhear. “You need to be careful,” she whispered.
“People are going to start asking questions. And worse—there are those
who would use this, Kian. Use you.”

Kian ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up inside him. “I
can’t control it. I can’t even control the fire. What if it gets worse?”

Lena hesitated, clearly struggling with the weight of her next words.
“You’re not the only one with abilities. I’ve seen others... like you. People
who’ve been changed by the virus. The thing is, they don’t all have
control, either.”

Kian looked up at her, confusion etched on his face. “What are you talking
about? Who else?”

“I can’t say yet,” she replied, lowering her voice even more. “But there’s
more going on here than you realize. The book, your abilities... they’re not
random. There’s a pattern, Kian, and it’s not just the fire. The virus—the
changes—it’s all connected.”

Kian didn’t have time to process her words. His mind was already reeling
from the fire, the power, the hunger... but one thing she said stood out:
It’s not just the fire.

He had known, deep down, that there was more to what he was
experiencing than just the green flames. They were connected, yes, but
they were just the beginning.

That night, as he lay in bed, Kian felt the familiar pull again—the book
calling to him, drawing him in. But this time, he didn’t try to ignore it. He
couldn’t. The hunger inside him was growing stronger, and he needed
answers.

He reached under his bed, pulling the old tome out. The leather cover was
cold to the touch, its pages yellowed with age, but it still seemed to pulse
with a strange, invisible energy. He hesitated for only a moment before
opening the first page, his eyes scanning the words that seemed to shift
before him, blurring into something new.

“The flame is just the beginning, child. Your true potential lies deeper,
beneath the fire, where the blood runs cold.”

Kian’s heart skipped a beat. His breath quickened. What did it mean? His
true potential? What was the book talking about?

The hunger surged again, stronger this time. It wasn’t just the fire
anymore; it was something more primal, something darker. Kian could feel
it stirring inside him, a power that was as cold as it was sharp. It felt like
electricity running through his veins, crackling and sparking beneath his
skin, like it was trying to force its way out.
Before he could stop himself, the words flowed from his mouth, ancient
and unfamiliar: “Ardor alacrimis.”

The air in his room shifted. The temperature seemed to drop slightly, and
a low hum began to vibrate in the air. Kian’s skin prickled as if an electric
charge had filled the space around him. His hands tingled, the feeling
spreading up his arms like a current building toward his chest.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light, bright and sharp, and Kian’s body
jerked as an arc of electricity shot from his fingertips, crackling in the air.
The room lit up with sparks, the power surging through him, pulsing with
raw energy.

The flame in his other hand, green and wild, flickered and flickered—then
suddenly sputtered, feeding off the electric charge like a storm hungry for
fuel.

Kian stumbled back, heart pounding as the electricity danced from his
fingers, jumping across the walls. The fire and the electricity were both
alive, both feeding off his emotions, his hunger, his confusion. He couldn’t
hold them back. The surge of power was too much.

He felt alive, buzzing with it, like his very body was a conduit for these
forces. The electricity crackled around him, and the fire flickered in
response, pushing and pulling, creating a chaotic whirlwind of energy.
Kian’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm
of the storm he had created.

The power wasn’t just destructive. It was something deeper, something

Kian was only beginning to understand. And now, for the first time, he felt
the full weight of the book’s curse: it wasn’t just fire. He had two elements
to control, and both were as volatile as his own emotions.

The room fell silent as the power faded. Kian stood in the middle of the
room, panting, his hands still sparking faintly with energy. The hunger was
still there, but now it was different—it was like a part of him, like an
electric pulse that he couldn’t ignore.

What had he unlocked?

Chapter 4: The Whispering Pages

The room was silent except for the low hum that seemed to reverberate
through the walls. Kian sat on his bed, his hands still trembling from the
electric surge that had consumed him the night before. The hunger was
more intense now—like something gnawing at the edges of his
consciousness, pushing him to embrace the power. His head felt heavy,
thoughts clouded with fragments of strange knowledge.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. The fire and the
electricity—two forces that had seemed to merge together like opposites
drawn to each other, both wild, both uncontrollable. He could still feel the
electricity crackling beneath his skin, a constant, pulsing presence. It felt
almost like a warning, like something was waiting for him to unlock the
next piece of the puzzle.

The book was sitting on the floor, just within reach. It lay there, open to
the pages that had revealed the truth about the power running through
him. Kian could feel its pull even now, like an invisible force guiding him
toward it. It wasn’t just the fire anymore. It was the book itself, its
knowledge, its whispers. His fingers twitched, craving its touch, but a part
of him recoiled. He was afraid of what would happen if he opened it again.

But he couldn’t resist.

Kian’s hands moved of their own accord, reaching out to the tome. As his
fingers brushed the pages, the whispering began.

It was faint at first, like a distant murmur, but soon the voices were
clearer, louder. They came from every direction, as if the book were alive,
its presence inside his mind growing stronger with each passing moment.

"Embrace it," one voice murmured, low and seductive. "The power is
yours to control. Let go of your fear."
"Control is an illusion," another voice hissed, sharp and cold. "Let the
darkness consume you. Let the power flow."

Kian clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out the voices, but they only
grew louder, more insistent. The hunger gnawed at him, the electricity in
his veins crackling with anticipation. The fire, too, seemed to call to him,
its green flames flickering in the back of his mind, reminding him of the
rage he had felt when it first erupted from his hands.

He fought to steady his breathing, trying to stay in control, but the voices
were relentless. They whispered secrets—strange, cryptic instructions, like
fragments of forgotten knowledge slipping through his mind.

“Unleash your true power,” one voice crooned, sending a shiver down his
spine. "All will bend to your will if you claim it.”

Kian’s heart raced. The room around him seemed to pulse with energy,
the air thick with tension. His skin tingled, his muscles twitching with the
need to act. But what was he supposed to do with all this power? He
barely understood it, let alone how to control it.

The whispers grew more chaotic, more frantic, and suddenly Kian could no
longer distinguish one voice from another. They became a chorus of
madness, each voice pulling him in a different direction, each one
demanding something different from him.

“Control the fire... and the storm.” The voices seemed to merge into one,
a unified chant. "You are the storm, Kian. Let it rage.”

His hands crackled with electric energy as his mind struggled to make
sense of the chaos. The room around him began to shake as the power
inside him built to a crescendo. The whispers were no longer just words—
they were commands, urges, pulling him deeper into the storm.

He could feel the fire and the electricity inside him, pushing against each
other, fighting for dominance. The hunger swelled, gnawing at him, urging
him to give in, to let go. His emotions were raw—anger, fear, confusion—
all swirling together in a storm of their own.

What if I lose control? Kian thought, the fear creeping back into his mind.
What if I can’t stop this?

But the voices wouldn’t let him stop. They pushed him forward, into the
unknown.

And then, suddenly, it stopped. The voices fell silent, as though they had
never been there at all.
Kian’s breath came in heavy gasps as he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly
to clear the fog that had clouded his mind. The room was still, the silence
deafening. He didn’t understand what had just happened, but he felt it—
the raw power inside him, thrumming like a live wire, waiting for him to
command it.

A shiver ran down his spine. The hunger was still there, gnawing at him,
but now it was different—more urgent, more insistent.

“You must feed,” the voice of the book whispered, a cold, familiar
command in his mind. “The power demands it. Feed, or it will consume
you.”

Kian’s heart skipped a beat. He had been trying to ignore it, trying to push
back the vampire curse that was creeping through him. But the more he
fought it, the stronger it became. And now, the book was telling him what
he already feared: he couldn’t escape it. The power wasn’t just fire and
electricity. It was something older, something darker, and it wanted to
consume him.

He stumbled back from the book, his pulse racing. The hunger was rising,
the need for something deeper, something darker.

But Kian wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to let the darkness consume him.

He clenched his fists, focusing on the electric buzz that still thrummed in
his veins. He would learn to control it. He had to. Because if he didn’t, the
power would control him.

Kian took a deep breath, his mind still reeling. He couldn’t afford to give
in. Not yet. Not when he didn’t even understand what he had become.
Chapter 5: A Family Secret

The next day, Kian couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
His mind was still swirling with the memories of the voices from the night
before, their words echoing through his thoughts like an incessant
drumbeat. The hunger was there too—pushing him, gnawing at the edges
of his control.

He hadn’t slept well. The storm inside him refused to quiet, and the
faintest spark of the electricity that had come with his powers lingered,
dancing just beneath his skin. The sensation was strange, unsettling—a
constant reminder of what he was becoming.

But he knew he couldn’t hide from the truth anymore. He had to confront
his father.

Kian stood in front of the door to his father’s study, his hand hovering over
the brass doorknob. He had been here a hundred times before, but today
felt different. Today, he wasn’t just the son asking for advice or approval.
Today, he was something else—something his father hadn’t prepared him
for.

The door creaked open as Kian stepped inside. His father was seated at
the massive wooden desk, his face buried in a stack of old, yellowing
papers. He looked up when Kian entered, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

“Kian,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “What’s wrong?”

“I need answers,” Kian replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “I need to
know about the book. About what’s happening to me.”

His father’s face darkened at the mention of the book. He set the papers
down slowly, his gaze shifting to the floor for a moment, as if weighing his
words carefully.

“You’re already feeling it, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice distant. “The
power, the hunger. It’s all part of it. I hoped I could shield you from it, but I
see now… there’s no escaping it.”

Kian’s heart raced. He hadn’t expected his father to acknowledge it so

plainly. He had thought his father would try to deny it, or at least hide
behind more vague answers. But there was no mistaking the sadness in
his voice, the regret.

“What is it, Dad?” Kian demanded, stepping closer to the desk. “What’s
happening to me? What’s this curse you’ve kept from me all these years?”

His father’s expression hardened, and for a moment, Kian thought he

might say nothing at all. But then, his father sighed and leaned back in his
chair, his eyes distant as if remembering something painful.
“The book you found, Kian,” his father began, his voice low and heavy
with weight, “it’s been in our family for generations. It’s not just a book—
it’s a tool, a key. A key to power. And the power it unlocks doesn’t come
without a price.”

Kian’s stomach twisted. “What kind of power?”

“The power to control fire,” his father said, his voice trembling slightly.
“The fire runs in our bloodline, but it’s more than just that. You’re not just
a fire-bearer, Kian. You’re a vessel for something far darker. The book, the
power—it’s part of an ancient curse, a bloodline that was chosen to carry
the darkness.”

Kian blinked, the words almost too much to process. “What do you mean,
‘chosen to carry the darkness’?”

His father stood up, his face hard with regret, and walked to the large
window. The light outside cast long shadows across the room,
emphasizing the deep lines on his father’s face. He looked older than Kian
had ever realized, his eyes filled with an ancient sorrow.

“Generations ago,” his father said, his back turned to Kian, “our family
made a deal. A deal with something we couldn’t understand, something
older than time itself. We traded our souls for power. Power that would
allow us to survive—power that would allow us to rule.”

“Survive from what?” Kian asked, his voice almost a whisper. “What
happened?”

His father didn’t turn around, but Kian could hear the sharp intake of
breath, the weight of the memory pressing down on him.

“A virus,” his father finally said. “A virus that was engineered, spread
across the world. It mutated humanity, turning them into something else.
Something dangerous. Some people gained abilities, others lost their
minds. But we… we were prepared.”

The words didn’t make sense. Kian could feel his heart pounding in his
chest, the blood rushing in his ears. “The virus caused all of this?”

“The virus is what unlocked the abilities in those who survived,” his father
replied, his voice tinged with a dark bitterness. “The book, though—it’s
what made sure our family would be among the survivors. We made a
pact, Kian. And now, it’s your turn to bear the consequences.”

Kian’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had never imagined
anything like this. The power, the fire—everything that had begun to
consume him—it wasn’t just some random mutation. It was part of
something far bigger, something ancient and terrifying.

“You never told me any of this,” Kian said, his voice trembling with anger.
“Why? Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I tried to protect you,” his father said, turning slowly to face him. “I didn’t
want you to know. I didn’t want you to have to carry the burden. But
now… now you have no choice.”

The room felt suffocating. The weight of his father’s words pressed down
on Kian, and the hunger inside him flared in response. His mind raced with
questions, but one stuck out more than the others: What was his true
purpose?

Kian stepped back, shaking his head. “So this is it, then? I’m just supposed
to accept this curse and keep the bloodline going? I have no choice?”

His father didn’t answer right away. He simply looked at Kian, his
expression unreadable. After a long pause, he said, “You do have a choice,
Kian. But every choice comes with consequences.”
Kian turned and walked toward the door, the weight of everything his
father had said pressing down on him like a physical force. The book, the
fire, the curse—it was all tied together. And the path ahead was unclear,
filled with danger and darkness.

But one thing was certain: Kian was no longer just a boy. He was the heir
to something far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.

And now, there was no going back.

Chapter 6: Unseen Enemies

Kian’s mind was still reeling from his conversation with his father. The
weight of the bloodline’s legacy pressed heavily on his shoulders, but
there was something else—a gnawing sense of foreboding, like a shadow
lurking just beyond his awareness. The power surging through him, the
whispers in the back of his mind, they all felt like pieces of a puzzle he
wasn’t sure he was ready to solve.

He had thought that understanding the book, the fire, the curse, would
bring clarity. Instead, it had opened a door to something darker. The
hunger within him was growing stronger, more insistent, and Kian didn’t
know how much longer he could control it.
He needed to clear his mind. He needed to get away from the walls that
seemed to close in on him at every turn.

The playground just outside the dome’s central core was the one place
Kian could always find some semblance of peace, a place where he could
let his powers go just enough to feel something like normal. The swings
creaked in the wind, and a few scattered kids from the dome played in the
distance, their powers barely contained as they ran and shouted.

But Kian wasn’t looking for company today. He only wanted to be alone, to
feel the breeze, to breathe without the weight of the world pressing on
him.

As he stepped onto the soft grass, a voice broke the silence.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kian turned, startled. His eyes narrowed when he saw who had spoken.
Jax stood a few feet away, arms crossed, smirking in that way that always
made Kian’s blood boil. The fire user had been a constant thorn in Kian’s
side ever since the book had bound itself to him. Jax’s presence only
reminded him of the fight that had almost consumed him days earlier.

“What do you want?” Kian asked, his voice sharp. His powers, still
unpredictable, crackled just beneath the surface of his skin.

Jax’s smirk widened. “I’ve been meaning to have a word with you. You’ve
been acting strange lately. Thought I’d come see if it was the book getting
to you.”

Kian clenched his fists, his fingers itching to unleash the fire that was
always bubbling beneath the surface. He had a bad feeling about this.
“I’m fine,” Kian said through gritted teeth. “And you’re the last person I
want to talk to.”

“Funny, I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for talking,” Jax replied, his
tone turning colder. “But if you’re so confident in your control, maybe you
can show me how well you’re managing it.”

Kian didn’t understand at first. Then, without warning, Jax’s hands sparked
to life, and flames erupted around him. The fire swirled and danced, hot
and hungry, just like Kian’s own powers. But unlike Kian, Jax was at ease
with it, relishing in it.

“I’ve been wondering,” Jax continued, his grin wide and malicious, “if
you’re really ready to control that power. Or if it’ll control you.”

Kian felt the fire pulse within him, instinctively matching Jax’s flame with
one of his own. But something was different this time. He could feel the
electricity in his veins, buzzing like a live wire, urging him to do more than
just fight with fire. A voice in the back of his mind whispered something he
couldn’t quite make sense of, but it was clear enough—it wasn’t just fire
that he could wield anymore.

Without thinking, Kian raised his hand. The energy in his body surged to
his fingertips, and a crackling arc of electric power shot out from his palm,
colliding with Jax’s flames. The electric current hit the fire and
immediately changed the course of the fight. The two forces clashed,
spiraling together in a chaotic dance of light and heat.

Jax’s eyes widened in surprise, his flames flickering uncertainly.

“What the hell is that?” Jax growled, taking a step back. His fire flickered,
but it wasn’t enough to overpower Kian’s surge of electricity.

Kian’s heart hammered in his chest. He had never experienced anything

like this before. The sensation was alien, yet it felt like it belonged to him.
The power surged again, a second, stronger bolt of electricity cracking
through the air, sending Jax stumbling backward. He barely managed to
regain his footing, his flames sputtering in the aftermath.

“That’s new,” Jax muttered, his gaze flicking nervously between Kian’s
electric aura and the fire around them.

Kian, still reeling from the power he had just unleashed, couldn’t help but
feel a surge of triumph. But it was quickly replaced by a cold, gnawing
fear. The electric power—it had come so easily. Too easily.

“Stay out of my way, Jax,” Kian warned, the electric current still buzzing in
his hands. The hunger was still there, but it was masked by the thrill of his
newfound strength. He hadn’t meant to unleash that much power, but
there it was. He was growing stronger, faster. And that terrified him more
than anything.

Jax held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. You’ve got your little
tricks, but don’t think this is over. You may have won today, but there’s a
lot more coming your way.”

Kian didn’t say anything. He simply turned, his body still humming with
the residual electricity, and walked away. The weight of the encounter
hung in the air, but it was nothing compared to the questions that were
swirling in his mind.

What was this electric power? How had it come so easily to him?

As Kian stepped out of the playground, he caught sight of something he

hadn’t noticed before—a small group of kids, standing near the edge of
the dome, watching him intently. They weren’t playing. They weren’t
interacting. They were just… waiting. And when Kian caught their gaze,
they didn’t look away. They were all silent, their eyes cold, calculating.
Kian felt a chill run down his spine. Something wasn’t right. He was being
watched. And not just by Jax.

There were other players in this game, and they had their eyes on him.

The hunger gnawed at him again, more insistent than ever. He had to
figure this out before it consumed him—before it consumed everything.

But for now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the enemies he was facing
were far closer than he realized.

Chapter 7: The Hunger Grows

The hunger had become more than a sensation—it was a presence,

always lingering just beneath the surface, whispering in his ear when he
least expected it. Kian had tried to ignore it, to pretend it wasn’t there, but
the more he did, the stronger it became. It wasn’t just the electricity
anymore, or the fire. It was something primal, something he couldn’t
control. Something the book had awakened in him.
He woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, his heart
pounding in his chest. His body ached, as if it were starving, as if every
inch of him needed something—something he couldn’t name. He sat up
quickly, gasping for air, his breath shallow. The room was dark, the faint
hum of electricity still crackling in his bones. But this… this was different.
This was hunger, a gnawing emptiness that settled deep in his gut.

Kian staggered out of bed, his mind racing. He tried to focus on something
else, tried to get his bearings, but all he could think of was how badly he
needed something. The electric energy pulsed through his veins, but it
didn’t quell the hunger. It only fed it.

The moment he stepped into the hallway, he heard the soft scurrying of
footsteps. Someone was awake. He wasn’t alone.

“Who’s there?” Kian called, his voice strained, almost guttural.

From the shadows, a figure stepped forward, and Kian’s heart skipped a
beat. It was Amara, a girl from his class who had powers of her own—a
natural manipulator of the earth. She was one of the few who had seen
him at his weakest, the only one who hadn’t treated him like a freak when
the fire first erupted from his hands.

“What’s going on?” Amara asked, her eyes scanning Kian with concern.
She must have noticed the way his body trembled, the way his pupils
were dilated, as if he were in the grip of something far darker than fatigue.

Kian didn’t know how to answer her. How could he explain the fire, the
electricity, the hunger that clawed at him? He didn’t even understand it
himself.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Something’s wrong. I

can feel it. It’s like... like I’m starving, but it’s not just hunger. I don’t know
what it is.”
Amara took a cautious step forward, her brow furrowed. “You need to rest,
Kian. This can’t be good for you. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

Kian shook his head, his hands curling into fists. “It’s not that. It’s not just
the power. There’s something else. Something inside me... I can’t control
it anymore.”

Amara reached out, but stopped just short of touching him. She seemed
unsure, hesitant, like she didn’t know how to help him.

The air in the hallway grew thick, charged with energy, and Kian could feel
it in his fingertips—the electricity crackling, sparking like an impending
storm. It was almost as if the hunger had taken on a physical form, a
crackling power that demanded release. He stepped back, away from
Amara, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

“I need to find it,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes wild. He didn’t
know what he was searching for, but the urge to feed, to draw energy
from something, was overwhelming. “I need to feed. I can’t stop it.”

Amara took another step back, fear flickering in her eyes. “Kian…
whatever’s happening to you, it’s not you anymore. This power, this
hunger, it’s changing you.”

Kian felt his jaw tighten. He knew she was right. He could feel it too. The
book’s power was transforming him, but it was more than just the fire and
electricity. The hunger was something darker, something far more
dangerous.

Before he could say anything, the air around them shifted. The
temperature dropped, the faint hum of electricity growing louder. A
crackle of energy split the air, followed by a flash of blinding light.

In an instant, Kian’s vision went black.

When Kian came to, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. The air was
thick with the scent of earth, damp and heavy. The ground beneath him
felt cold, hard, and rough—stone, perhaps, or some other unnatural
surface. Slowly, he pushed himself up, groaning in pain. His body felt
strange, his skin tingling with an unfamiliar static charge. The hunger
gnawed at him still, but now it was more desperate. More insistent.

“What the hell happened?” Kian muttered to himself. His head throbbed,
and his limbs felt heavy, as though his body were weighed down by
something far worse than fatigue.

Suddenly, he realized that he wasn’t alone. He could hear soft footsteps

behind him. As his vision adjusted, he saw the figure of Amara standing a
few feet away, looking tense and uncertain.

“Where are we?” Kian asked, still trying to shake off the disorienting wave
of dizziness that clung to him.

Amara hesitated. “You... you were going to lose control. I didn’t know what
else to do. So I... brought you here.”

Kian’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s ‘here’?”

“This is one of the safe zones,” Amara explained. “We’ve got a few hidden
places outside the dome where some of us can go to train. To... release
the energy, without hurting anyone.”

The truth hit him like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t just about controlling
the fire. It wasn’t just about the electric power either. This—this hunger—it
was something far more dangerous. Something more insidious.

The realization was clear: The vampire curse was real, and it was taking
hold faster than he could control it.
Kian clenched his fists, his teeth gritting against the onslaught of
emotions and instincts that threatened to overwhelm him. The hunger, the
thirst for something he couldn’t name, burned in his gut. He had to get a
hold of it. He had to keep it together.

“I can’t keep doing this, Amara,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I’m
not sure I can control it much longer.”

Amara stepped closer, her eyes filled with empathy. “You don’t have to do
it alone, Kian. We’ll figure this out. We’ll find a way to stop it before it
completely takes over.”

But Kian wasn’t so sure. The hunger was growing stronger with each
passing day, and the book’s whispers were becoming harder to ignore. He
could feel it now, the growing darkness, the promise of power that came
with a price.

And he wasn’t sure he could resist it much longer.

Chapter 8: The Burning Path

Kian’s heart pounded in his chest, a chaotic rhythm that matched the
storm brewing inside him. The hunger had been gnawing at him all day,
growing more insistent, more demanding with every passing hour. He
could feel the electric energy crackling beneath his skin, sparking with
every movement. It was as though his very soul had become a live wire,
thrumming with power he couldn’t control.

Amara had been trying to help. She insisted on staying close, talking him
through his frustrations, offering support, but Kian could sense the worry
in her eyes. It wasn’t just the electric power anymore. It was everything.
The fire, the hunger, the whispers—everything that the book had
awakened in him. It was changing him, warping him into something he
didn’t recognize.

The night air was cooler than it had been, but Kian could feel the heat
rising within him, the surge of energy threatening to erupt. His hands were
shaking, the pressure building with every breath he took. He needed to
release it. He needed to feel something other than this gnawing
emptiness.

“Amara,” he said, his voice tight, “I can’t hold it in anymore.”

She looked at him with a mixture of fear and understanding. “You don’t
have to do this alone, Kian. We can find a way to—”

“No,” Kian interrupted, cutting her off. “You don’t understand. The power
is alive in me now. I feel it, all of it. I can’t stop it, Amara. If I don’t release
it—if I don’t let it out—something will break inside me. I can’t let that
happen.”

Amara’s expression faltered, but she didn’t argue. She knew him too well
by now. She knew that the fire, the electricity—it wasn’t just power. It was
a part of him, a part that was starting to consume him.

Kian clenched his fists, feeling the surge of electricity thrumming in his
veins, ready to break free. His mind flashed to the last time he had lost
control, when the fire had flared, and he had almost burned everything
around him to the ground. The fear was still there, but it was buried under
the overwhelming need to feel something—anything—that would quell the
growing storm inside him.
He stepped into the open field, the dark sky stretching above him, endless
and oppressive. The wind howled through the trees, and the air was thick
with the scent of damp earth. Kian could hear the crackling of power, the
static in the air that was drawing closer with every step. His body
hummed with energy, his skin alive with the pull of the book, the power
binding him to it, making him its servant.

He raised his hands, trembling. “I can’t stop it. I won’t stop it.”

With a guttural yell, Kian released the power.

The ground beneath his feet cracked as the electricity erupted from his
body in a jagged, blinding arc. His fingers sparked with wild energy, and
the air around him seemed to hum with the intensity of the release. The
crackling energy ripped through the night, lightning-like tendrils arcing out
from his body and splintering the air in every direction.

Amara took a few hesitant steps back, watching with wide eyes as the
power swirled around Kian like a living entity, the electricity spiraling in
violent patterns, crackling with every breath. Kian’s body trembled, his
legs buckling under the strain of controlling the surge of energy, but it
didn’t stop. It couldn’t stop. It was as if the very essence of the book was
taking over, pushing him further than he had ever gone before.

The hunger surged again, like a dark tide pulling at him, urging him to
feed. But now, it was more than just hunger—it was a thirst that could
only be quenched with destruction.

His vision blurred as the power escalated. The world around him was
consumed by lightning, the ground scorched and smoking from the
intensity. He could feel the electric current coursing through him, his blood
humming with the energy as the book’s power pushed him past his limits.
It was no longer about control. It was about survival.
The hunger, the dark presence within him, had become a voice, a shadow
at the back of his mind.

Release it. Embrace it. You were always meant for this. Embrace the fire.
Embrace the storm.

Kian’s chest heaved as he fought the rising tide of energy, his mind
spinning, his body feeling like it was being torn apart. He was losing
himself to it, losing touch with the person he had been. But he couldn’t
stop now.

The sky above seemed to crack, and for a moment, Kian thought the
heavens themselves might be torn open. His power was too great. The
hunger was too much.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, the storm of power ceased. Kian
collapsed to his knees, his body slick with sweat, his chest heaving as he
tried to catch his breath. The crackling energy faded, leaving only the
remnants of its fury behind.

Amara was still standing at the edge of the field, her eyes wide with shock
and fear. She took a tentative step forward, but stopped short when she
saw the look in Kian’s eyes.

“Kian...” Her voice was quiet, fearful. “What happened? What did you just
do?”

Kian couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t even form words. All he could do
was sit there, trembling, his body still crackling with the residual energy.
The hunger, the darkness—it was still there, lurking beneath the surface,
waiting for him to lose control again.

He wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come.

The storm inside him had passed, but it had left something behind: a
deep, insatiable hunger that was growing stronger every day.
“I... I don’t know how much longer I can keep this inside,” Kian finally
whispered, his voice hoarse.

Amara’s face softened, and she knelt beside him, her hand resting gently
on his arm. “We’ll figure it out, Kian. We have to.”

But Kian wasn’t so sure anymore. He had crossed a line. He could feel it.
The book was binding him to something darker, something he didn’t
understand. And with every surge of power, with every burst of energy, he
was losing a part of himself.

He was afraid of what he might become.

Chapter 9: The Price of Blood

Kian stood in front of the broken mirror, his reflection staring back at him
with eyes that looked too old for his age. The face was the same—the
same sharp features, the same dark hair—but there was a hollowness to it
now, a void where his old self used to be. His reflection was a mask, a
facade that hid the growing darkness inside.

The hunger had become unbearable. Every day, it gnawed at him more
fiercely, demanding to be fed, to be satisfied. He could feel it in his veins,
a fire coursing through him that he couldn't extinguish, no matter how
hard he tried. The power from the book had changed him. His body, his
mind—it was all slipping away, piece by piece.

He clenched his fists, staring at the cracks in the mirror, the ones he had
made earlier when his anger had gotten the better of him. The book’s
influence was stronger now. He could feel its presence like a heavy weight
pressing against his chest, urging him to embrace the darkness, to give in
to the bloodlust.

You are more than this, the book whispered in the back of his mind. More
than just a boy. You are a king. Embrace your true power.

Kian’s breath hitched as he pushed the thought away. He wasn’t ready to

let go of everything. He couldn’t be. But every time he used his powers,
the hunger grew. The thirst was worse than the fire now, worse than the
electricity. It was a deep, insatiable need that clawed at him from the
inside, urging him to do whatever it took to feed it.

His stomach twisted painfully. It was no longer just the occasional hunger.
It was a constant, gnawing ache, one that couldn't be ignored. The
thought of blood made his mouth water, his teeth aching with the primal
desire to sink into flesh. But there was a part of him—however small—that
resisted. He wasn’t like them. He didn’t want to be like them.

Amara had noticed. She had been watching him carefully, more so than
usual, and he couldn’t blame her. He could see the concern in her eyes
every time they spoke, the way she hesitated before offering him food,
the way she seemed to study his every movement. She knew something
was wrong, but she had no idea how deep it ran.

Kian sank onto the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands. He had
tried everything. Training, meditation, controlling his breathing. But
nothing worked. The hunger kept growing, relentless, unyielding.

And now, it was beginning to show in ways he couldn’t hide.

His skin felt hotter than usual, his pulse racing beneath his flesh. He tried
to steady himself, to breathe deeply, but it was useless. The moment he
did, the book’s voice returned.
You can feel it, can't you? The hunger. The thirst. You were always
destined for this.

His hands shook as he ran them through his hair. I don’t want this.

Too late for that, Kian. You’re already becoming what you were meant to
be.

Kian closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as a wave of dizziness hit him. He
stood quickly, stumbling toward the door. He needed to get out, to get
away from the constant weight of the book’s whispers. He couldn’t let it
consume him—not yet. He wouldn’t let it.

As he stepped outside, the cold night air hit his face, but it did little to
calm the fire that burned inside him. The hunger gnawed at him, sharp
and demanding. He had to find a way to feed it. He couldn’t keep holding
it back.

As he walked through the empty streets of the dome, Kian noticed

something strange. There were others out there too—kids, just like him.
Mutated children who had powers they didn’t fully understand, who were
struggling with their own dark urges. He could feel their presence even
before he saw them.

The first one to step out from the shadows was a boy—tall, with dark eyes
and a wild, untamed look. His clothes were torn, and there was a strange
aura about him, something Kian couldn’t quite place. It was as if this boy
was from another world entirely, a world where power was everything and
survival was the only goal.

“You’re Kian, right?” The boy’s voice was low, almost a growl, as though
he was testing the air with every word. “I’ve been watching you. You’re
like us.”

Kian didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t want to admit that the boy was
right, that there was a growing darkness inside him that was starting to
consume him. But the boy seemed to know.

“You feel it, don’t you?” the boy continued, stepping closer. “The hunger.
The need to feed, to take power. I know what it’s like. I’ve been through it.
You’re not the only one.”

Kian’s heart raced. He had never felt this kind of tension before.
Something about the boy’s words felt dangerous—too dangerous. “Who
are you?” he asked, his voice shaking despite his best efforts.

The boy smirked. “Name’s Dex. I’ve got powers like you, only I’ve learned
how to control them. And trust me, you’re going to need all the control
you can get. Because the price of power is steep. And the hunger? It’s
only the beginning.”

The boy’s words sent a chill through Kian’s spine. He wanted to walk
away, to shut it all out, but Dex was right. He couldn’t run from it
anymore. The price of his power was starting to become clear. And the
more he used it, the more it would demand of him.

“We’re going to need each other,” Dex said, his voice suddenly soft, as if
he was trying to make a deal. “If you want to survive this, you’ll need
more than just your fire and lightning. You’ll need a way to control the
hunger. And I can help with that.”

Kian’s mind raced. Could he trust this boy? Could he trust anyone
anymore? But something about Dex’s offer tugged at him—an undeniable
pull, like the gravity of a new reality, one that he had no choice but to
face.

“Fine,” Kian said, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him.
“What do I need to do?”

Dex smiled darkly. “Follow me.”

And with that, Kian’s journey into the true cost of power began.
Chapter 10: The Mask of Normalcy

Kian’s footsteps echoed through the empty hallways of the dome. He had
tried to push the hunger, the power, to the back of his mind for as long as
he could, but the closer he got to what passed for his normal life, the
more he realized that it was slipping through his fingers. His world had
changed—had been changed—and no amount of pretending could put it
back together.

His reflection in the window as he passed by was haunting. The boy in the
glass wasn’t the same one who had first discovered the book in his
family’s attic. The boy in the glass looked as though he was wearing a
mask, one that concealed everything he was becoming. The fire in his
eyes—green and flickering—seemed to pulse with a power he didn’t fully
understand, one that was too vast to control.

Inside the dome, there were kids like him, kids with abilities that were
often as unpredictable as his own. Some were more experienced, some
just starting to discover their powers. They all struggled in one way or
another, but they still managed to live their lives, pretending things were
normal. Kian had tried that once, tried to ignore the gnawing hunger, the
electric tingle that crawled up his spine every time he got too close to
using his powers. But it was harder now.

Walking through the familiar corridors, Kian made his way to the cafeteria.
His stomach churned, not with hunger for food, but with something
darker, more insistent. He couldn’t ignore it. He couldn’t push it down. The
temptation was always there, like a beast at the edge of his mind, waiting
for him to slip up.
As he entered the cafeteria, a few of the other kids glanced up, their eyes
lingering on him for a moment before they returned to their
conversations. Kian took a seat at the farthest table, trying to make
himself as invisible as possible. He didn’t want to draw attention to
himself—not when he was still trying to hold onto what little normalcy he
had left.

But it wasn’t long before someone noticed.

“Hey, Kian,” a voice called out. Kian’s head snapped up, and he saw
Amara standing near the counter, a tray of food in her hands. Her eyes
were wide with concern, her brow furrowed as she looked him over. “You
okay?”

Kian smiled, though it felt strained, like he was forcing himself to wear a
mask. “Yeah, just tired.”

Amara didn’t buy it. She knew him better than that. She knew when he
was lying. She sat down across from him, her eyes never leaving his.

“You’ve been acting off lately,” she said quietly, her tone laced with worry.
“You’ve been distant. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can tell
something’s wrong.”

Kian’s stomach twisted. He couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Not when
he wasn’t sure he could even face it himself. He had to maintain the
illusion—at least for a little while longer.

“I’m fine,” he said, a little too quickly. “Just... stuff’s been on my mind.”

Amara didn’t look convinced. She opened her mouth to say something,
but before she could, a sudden voice interrupted.
“Did you hear about the new kid?” It was Jax, his loud, boisterous voice
cutting through the air like a knife. He was leaning against the doorframe,
looking like he was ready to stir up trouble. His eyes flicked to Kian, a
smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “He’s got some crazy powers. I
bet he could put all of you to shame.”

Kian’s gaze narrowed as Jax made his way toward them. The boy had a
knack for getting under his skin. Jax had always been the type to push
buttons, to test limits, and he didn’t care who he hurt in the process. The
last thing Kian needed right now was to be distracted by Jax’s antics.

“You really need to learn to shut up, Jax,” Kian muttered, trying to push
the conversation back on track. But Jax wasn’t about to let him off that
easy.

“Why? Afraid you might actually lose for once?” Jax’s voice was taunting,
and he leaned in closer, his eyes glinting with malice. “You think you’re so
special, don’t you, Kian? With all that fire and whatever else you’ve got.
You think you’re above the rest of us, but I’ve seen what’s underneath.”

Kian’s temper flared, his fingers twitching involuntarily. The fire inside him
was burning, just below the surface, and it took all his effort not to let it
explode. He could feel the book’s pull again, the hunger, the desire to lash
out. It was getting harder to control.

But he couldn’t lose control—not here, not now.

Amara shot Kian a look, then turned to Jax, her voice sharp. “What do you
want, Jax?”

Jax grinned, unfazed by her tone. “I just wanted to see how long it would
take before Kian finally snapped. Not sure if he’s pretending to be normal
or if he’s already crossed that line.”
Kian’s fists clenched. Pretending to be normal? He wasn’t pretending. He
had to pretend. If he didn’t, there would be no coming back from it. The
hunger, the power, the curse—it was all too real now, and he didn’t know
if he could control it for much longer.

“I’m not pretending,” Kian said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m
just trying to survive.”

Jax’s smirk faltered for a moment, but it quickly returned. “Survival’s

overrated.”

Kian stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He couldn’t
deal with Jax right now, couldn’t deal with anything. Without another
word, he turned and left the cafeteria, his steps echoing in the silence
behind him.

As he walked, the hunger rose again, clawing at him, urging him to take
more power, to feed. He felt the pull of the book like never before. It was
stronger now, its influence growing with each passing day. There was no
escaping it.

But the worst part wasn’t the power. It was the feeling that he might
never be able to live a normal life again. Not when the hunger was always
there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for him to slip.

He could feel the darkness creeping closer.

And the worst part?

He wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it.

Chapter 11: A Gathering Storm

The air in the dome felt heavier than usual, as if it carried a thousand
unspoken words. Kian walked through the dimly lit hallways, each step
reverberating in the silence. There had been whispers. Whispers about a
new kid—a powerful new presence that was making its way through the
dome. Some said he was from outside, some said he was the result of an
experiment gone wrong. Others whispered that he was a force of nature, a
weapon meant to bring balance to the chaos of the mutated children.

Kian didn’t know what to believe, but one thing was certain: the moment
the rumors started, the tension inside the dome had become palpable.

It was Amara who first told him about the new kid.

“He’s not like the rest of us, Kian,” she said in a hushed voice, her eyes
scanning the crowd around them. “There’s something different about him.
Some of the others have seen him use multiple abilities at once—fire,
telekinesis, even... I don’t know what else.”
Kian’s stomach clenched. He didn’t like the sound of that. He was already
struggling with his own power, and the thought of someone else—
someone more powerful—appearing in the dome made his skin prickle
with unease.

“Doesn’t sound good,” he muttered, his gaze narrowing. He felt the

familiar tug at his insides, the burning hunger that seemed to have a life
of its own. He tried to push it down, but the idea of someone more
dangerous than Jax—someone who could potentially take control of the
book—set his nerves on edge.

“Exactly. We need to be careful,” Amara replied, her expression serious.

“We don’t know what he wants, but we do know that he’s making waves.
Some people are already talking about aligning with him.”

Kian’s eyes hardened. The idea of someone using the new kid’s powers to
manipulate the already fractured factions inside the dome was more than
unsettling. He didn’t trust anyone who sought power for the sake of
power, especially when it meant threatening the fragile balance that had
been established.

And he couldn’t shake the feeling that this kid was part of something
bigger. Something that involved him.

Later that evening, as nightfall draped its shadows over the dome, Kian
found himself at the edge of the training grounds, the cool air biting at his
skin. He had been trying to train, to find some semblance of control over
the powers the book had bestowed upon him. But every time he thought
he had it under control, the hunger would return, gnawing at him from the
inside. His fire was dangerous, and he could feel it, pulsing and crackling
with an energy he didn’t fully understand.

Amara found him there, her footsteps soft on the gravel.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” she asked, leaning against
the rusted fence beside him.
Kian nodded, his gaze locked on the horizon. “I can’t shake the feeling
that this is just the beginning.”

Amara hesitated before speaking again. “You don’t have to face him
alone, you know.”

Kian turned to her, her words stirring something deep inside him. He had
been trying to deal with everything himself, pushing away the people who
cared about him. But in that moment, he realized just how much he
needed someone by his side.

“I know,” he said softly. “But I can’t afford to be weak. Not with everything
going on.”

“You’re not weak,” she said firmly. “You’re just... lost. And that’s okay. We
all are.”

Kian didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to believe her, but deep
down, he felt the weight of the book’s curse more than ever. He had lost
so much already, and the path ahead felt like a never-ending struggle. The
darkness was always just behind him, waiting to consume him entirely.

“You said he can use multiple powers,” Kian said, trying to focus on the
new threat. “Do you think he’s stronger than me?”

Amara thought for a moment before replying. “I don’t know. But what I do
know is that you’re not the only one struggling to control their abilities.
We all have our limits.”

Kian let out a breath, feeling the pressure of the moment settle in his
chest. The storm was coming. He could feel it in the air, the rising tension.
The new kid was just the beginning of something far more dangerous.
Before he could say anything else, a sudden explosion of energy rattled
the ground beneath their feet. Kian spun around, his heart racing, his
body automatically readying for a fight. Amara’s eyes widened as she
reached for his arm.

“What was that?” she asked, voice tight with fear.

“I don’t know,” Kian muttered, already moving toward the source of the
disturbance. “But we’re about to find out.”

They hurried toward the edge of the dome, where a flickering light danced
in the distance. It was as if a storm was brewing, a crackling energy that
shimmered in the night. Kian could feel it—like the pulse of a heart that
wasn’t his own.

When they reached the open space, the sight before them stopped them
dead in their tracks.

A figure stood in the center of the clearing, surrounded by a violent storm

of swirling electricity. His eyes glowed with an unnatural intensity, the
lightning arcing from his hands like an extension of his very being.

Kian’s breath caught in his throat.

The new kid.

And he was dangerous.

“Who is this?” Amara whispered, her voice full of awe and dread.

Kian didn’t answer. He was too focused on the figure in front of him, the
power radiating from him in waves. The book within Kian stirred, an
almost primal hunger pushing to the surface.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” the new kid said, his voice low and confident.
“Kian, isn’t it? I’ve heard about you.”

Kian’s chest tightened. He had a feeling that this was only the beginning.

And in that moment, he realized that the storm wasn’t just outside. It was
inside him, too.