The rogue camp wasn't what I expected.
No crude tents. No chaos.
It was structured. Hidden deep within the Wildlands, protected by layers of enchanted mist and ancient magic wards.
Their base was a fallen city—broken towers swallowed by vines, crumbling streets lit by ghostfire lanterns. The kind of place history forgot.
Perfect for those the world wanted to erase.
Perfect for us.
They led us through winding alleys until we reached a courtyard where a fire burned blue in the center.
Around it sat the others.
Men and women marked by magic—scarred, cursed, powerful.
Outcasts.
Just like us.
At the head of the circle sat the silver-haired woman from before.
"Welcome," she said smoothly. "To what's left of the free world."
Virelya stood rigid beside me, magic still crackling faintly under her skin like a second heartbeat.
I stayed close to her, hand brushing the hilt of my sword.
We weren't safe here.
But we weren't safe anywhere.
The woman—who introduced herself as Selene—didn't waste time.
"You know what they're saying out there," she said, voice carrying over the crackling fire. "That you're the end of the world. That you're cursed beyond saving."
No one flinched.
Not here.
Selene leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
"That makes you ours."
She threw down another parchment—this one a crude map of the kingdom, marked with red X's over several major cities.
"We've been planning this for years," she said. "Waiting for a crack in the system. Waiting for a weakness in the Crown's control."
Her smile sharpened.
"You two are that crack."
The plan was simple.
Terrifyingly simple.
They wanted to use us.
Virelya's bond with me—the prophecy—the chaos we left in our wake.
They wanted to weaponize it.
March into the capital with the force of a natural disaster.
Tear down the old regime with blood and broken magic.
And then rebuild the world from the ashes.
Freedom, they called it.
Revolution.
But all I heard was sacrifice.
Ours.
Everyone's.
After the meeting, Selene pulled me aside.
Virelya was led away by another rogue to "rest."
I didn't like it. But I had no choice.
Selene leaned casually against a ruined wall, studying me.
"You love her," she said simply.
It wasn't a question.
I said nothing.
"Good," she said. "That'll make it easier."
"Easier for what?" I asked coldly.
"For you to break the world when we tell you to."
I stiffened.
She laughed—low and sharp.
"Don't look so betrayed, pretty boy. You're not a hero. You're a weapon. So is she."
Her gaze softened—mocking.
"And if you're lucky, you'll get to keep her after the war's over."
"If?" I growled.
Selene smiled.
"If she survives."
That night, I found Virelya sitting by the edge of the ghostfire river that wound through the ruins.
She didn't look up as I sat beside her.
For a long time, we just listened to the strange, low hum of the water.
Finally, she spoke.
"They're going to use us."
"I know."
"You're going to let them?"
I stared at the fireflies dancing over the river.
"I'm going to let them think they're using us," I said quietly.
"And when they try?"
I looked at her then—really looked.
At the girl who carried a curse like a crown, who bore the weight of a thousand broken futures and still stood upright.
"When they try," I said, "we'll burn them down first."
She smiled.
It wasn't happy.
It was fierce.
Hopeless.
Beautiful.
"Good," she said. "Because I don't intend to survive just to be someone's puppet."
Neither did I.
But even as I promised her that—
Even as I wrapped my arms around her under the shattered stars—
I knew the truth.
Every moment we stayed together...
Every heartbeat we shared...
The curse grew stronger.
Hungrier.
And it wasn't just fate we were fighting anymore.
It was ourselves.