Kael Thorn did not trust palaces.

  Stone walls hid ambition too easily.

  He moved through Dareth unseen, navigating rooftops and broken alleyways while unrest simmered below. Atmas flickered in doorways now, more visible than before. The Veil thinned further each hour.

  He found Arin alone in a quiet courtyard after sunset.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Arin said.

  “Neither should you.”

  Arin studied him. “You knew about the demon.”

  “I survived it.”

  Kael’s voice held no drama—only fact.

  “You think I caused this,” Arin said.

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  Kael stepped closer.

  “No. But you’re connected to it.”

  Before Arin could respond, an Atma materialized between them—larger than the others, distorted by fury.

  Kael reacted instantly.

  Steel flashed.

  The blade cut through spirit—and for the first time, Arin saw black fire bleed from the wound.

  The Atma shrieked.

  It turned toward Arin.

  And bowed.

  Kael noticed.

  The spirit dissolved moments later.

  Silence followed.

  “You’re not controlling them,” Kael muttered. “They recognize you.”

  “Why?” Arin whispered.

  Kael’s expression darkened.

  “Because you’re not just marked.”

  “You’re tied to the seal itself.”