Page 118 of The Bound Blood
Nolan clears his throat, pushing his glasses up as he always does when he’s choosing his words carefully. “Every historical source we have describes the Veil as a containment for monsters. Predators. Things that lost their place in this world.”
I look at him. “And what if that’s only because history is written by whoever trapped them there?”
The question hangs there, heavy and unanswered.
That’s when the book moves. The one Kael took for safe keeping. It was in plain sight this whole time, hidden by a glamour. It slides free from Kael’s shelf as if an unseen hand has simply decided it’s time. It lands on the bed beside me with a soft thud, pages fluttering before settling open to the same prophecy as before, but something has changed.
My breath catches.
“That page was gone,” I whisper, pointing at the place I swear the page was ripped out.
Kael leans in, eyes darkening. “Hidden,” he corrects. “It must have had a spell on it, to only reveal more when you were ready.”
The glow spreads slowly, ink lifting from the page as if it’s breathing. Nolan steps closer, careful, reverent, like he’s approaching a living thing instead of paper. The magic doesn’t recoil from him—it steadies, letters sharpening into focus.
He reads aloud, voice low.
“When the Veil answers the call of flame,
Three will stand to bind her to the living world?—
Shadow to shelter,
Mind to guide,
And beast to guard the threshold.”
My chest tightens.
Kael. Nolan. Raiden.
The words shift, ink rearranging itself, lines stretching where there hadn’t been space before. Nolan swallows and keeps going.
“But the balance will not hold with three alone.
Winter’s crown will test her will,
And choice will claim what fate disowned.”
“And that’s not all,” Nolan says, brow furrowing. “There’s… more.”
Raiden’s jaw tightens, his attention snapping fully to the page. His hand curls slowly at his side, like he’s bracing for something he doesn’t like but already recognizes.
Kael doesn’t move at all.
“And one bound fast by oath and blood,
Shaped to obey, to never love,
Will stand where faith and treason meet?—
Undone by what they may not keep.”
Silence settles over the room, thick and uneasy. The ink stops moving. The glow dims to a low, steady pulse, like the book is finished speaking—for now.
Nolan is the first to exhale. He drags a hand down his face, glasses sliding slightly out of place. “That’s… not comforting.”
I huff softly. “None of it ever is.”
