CHAPTER SIX -SILVER IN HIS EYES.

~AVAS POV~

My breath caught halfway between a scream and a sob. My chest was rising and falling due to the sudden opening of my eyes.

The world tilted sideways, cold snow, warm blood, then nothing.

But nothing… came to heat.

Not gentle. Not kind.

No words.

No thoughts.

Just pain and the sound of my wolf.

She was awake.

Not gentle this time. Not mourning. Not broken.

She raged.

Then… silence.

A heavy one.

I blinked.

The blur above me solidified into silver hair and sharper eyes. His lips parting, jaw tightening and there was something wild behind his calm, a short moment of something that hadn’t been there before. Damon!

Kneeling beside me, with one hand moving over my chest, not touching but trembling.

His voice dropped, lower than I’d heard it before. “You weren’t supposed to shift yet.”

Parting my lips, but all I managed was a slight sound like a frog “What…what just happened?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he studied me like a puzzle he hadn’t expected to find. His brows gave that unreadable expression cracking, just for a breath, before snapping back into place.

“You didn’t just shift,” he muttered. “You surged.”

I tried to push up on my elbows. My arms felt like wet ropes. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

Damon stood.

In a moment, the warmth that spread across his face was already gone. He turned from me, stepping back toward the edge of the clearing.

“I warned Mira. The prophecy…” He broke off, voice steel-edged.

I froze.

My pulse skidded. “What prophecy?”

No answer.

My heart, slamming so hard as it tightened, stealing breath from my lungs. “Damon.”

He turned. His cloak rippled in the wind, snow settling around him like ash.

“You were marked before you were born,” he said quietly. “And now the mark is waking.”

My throat tightened. “What mark?”

Instead of answering, he stepped toward me, his gaze boring through mine. “When you were cast out, did your wolf speak?”

I hesitated. “She went silent.”

“And now?”

I blinked.

“She’s… screaming.”

His jaw flexed.

Damon crouched beside me once more, careful now, as though afraid to startle me. His hand moved toward mine, hesitated, then froze, caught between reaching out and holding back.

“The Shadowborn don’t just hunt power. They smell it. Feel it. Your blood calls to them now.”

“Because I shifted?”

“No.” His eyes darkened. “Because you’re changing.”

I pulled my coat tighter. “Into what?”

He stood again. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

That night, I didn’t sleep.The fire cracked and danced. Mira wasn’t there, she’d gone to trade herbs in a nearby den, and said she'd be back in three days.

So it was just Damon and me.

Wrapping the room like a second skin, was silence, My bones ached, my muscles throbbed, but nothing hurt as much as the questions crashing inside me.

I turned, watching his silhouette by the fire.

“Why do you care?” I asked, voice barely above the pop of the flames.

Damon didn’t look at me.

I pushed up, sitting straighter. “You saved me from the snow. You trained me. You’re telling me about marks and prophecies and Shadowborn, but you won’t even say why.”

Still nothing.

“Tell me,” I said. Louder this time. “What am I to you?”

That made him turn.

Slow. Measured.

The fire caught his eyes, silver burning like frost over ice.

“You think this is about you?” he said, voice low.

The words hit like a slap.

My throat closed.

“I…” I started.

“You were dying when I found you,” he continued. “Skin blue. Heart failure. Mira said to leave you. That your time was done.”

His gaze didn’t waver.

“But I couldn’t.”

I stiffened. “Because of the prophecy?”

“Because of your mother.”

The world stopped.

I felt it. A drop, deep in my chest. A chasm is tearing open.

“What?”

He took a breath like the air hurt his lungs. “She was one of us.”

“That’s not possible…”

“She was mine,” he said, sharp now. “And they killed her for it.”

The fire snapped.

My voice dropped. “You knew her?”

He looked down. The rare crack in his mask widened, just slightly.

“She saved me once. I gave up everything. Just like you did.”

I stared. “You loved her.”

Silence.

Then, so quiet I barely heard it…“Yes.”

Something inside me curled tight.

Damon stepped closer. “And when I found you… her blood in the snow… it was like fate gave me a second chance.”

I blinked hard. “You think I’m her?”

“No,” he said. “You’re more.”

His words struck a nerve.

Pressing down like a second skin, there was silence. I stood there, clenching my fists by my sides, throat tight with a scream I didn’t dare release. My chest ached, heavy and full, like something might split open if I even breathed wrong.

“I wanted to be enough,” I said, the words brittle as glass. “I tried.”

He didn’t interrupt. Just stood there, the way he always did, still, solid, too calm while I unraveled.

My voice dropped, barely a thread. “I want to cry. Scream. Break something.”

A pause.

Then, quieter, a confession that scraped my ribs on the way out. “But instead… I just keep asking myself, why do I feel like less?”

His hand moved then, slow and deliberate. Not forceful. Not rushed.

Just there.

When his fingers brushed mine, I shook slightly like something wild in me didn’t know how to be held.

But he didn’t pull back.

Warmth pressed against my skin. A steady anchor in a storm I hadn’t named yet.

“You’re not less,” he said. His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. “You were broken, yeah. But cracks let the light in.”

I blinked, lips trembling. Something inside me, something jagged, wavered.

“Don’t say things just to fix me.”

“I’m not,” he murmured. “I’m just holding the pieces while you remember you were always whole.”

Silence again. But not the same kind. Not sharp. Not cruel.

This one… wrapped around us like a soft echo.

And for the first time in a long time, I let my hand stay in his.

Let myself believe it.

Maybe not all the way. Not yet.

But the light?

I could almost feel it finding its way in.

~~*~~

A scream sliced through the morning air.

Not mine.

Not Damon’s.

Wolves.

I bolted upright, heart slamming against my ribs.

“Damon!” My voice cracked.

He was already at the window, sword drawn, eyes sharp with something cold and deadly. His muscles coiled like he was waiting for the floor to break.

“They found us,” he said without looking back.

My bare feet hit the ground, and I winced as pain surged through my side. “Who?”

“The Shadowborn.”

The name alone made my stomach flip. To steady myself, I crossed the room, my hands grabbing the edge of the table. “Can we run?”

“No.”

I swallowed. “Then we fight.”

Damon turned. “No. I fight.”

I blinked. “You what?”

He crossed the space between us in three quick steps. His hands landed firmly on my shoulders. “You’re not going out there. You’re still healing.”

“I don’t care…”

“I do.” His voice was low. Tight. “You’re not ready.”

I shoved his hands off. “I can hold a blade.”

“You’ll get yourself killed,” he snapped, then ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. “Damn it, you barely made it through last night. You think I’m letting you face one of them?”

“Damon…”

“No.”

The word cut like steel. Not loud. Final.

I stared at him, chest heaving.

Outside, a howl rose, long, vicious. Closer now.

The walls groaned, dust raining from the ceiling. Something slammed against the side of the cabin. A test. A warning.

I took a step toward the weapons chest.

He moved faster, grabbing the dagger before I could.

“You’ll slow me down.”