Chapter 55 The Shape of Ashes

The fever had broken by morning.

Patrona lay curled near the hearth, her body wrapped tightly in one of Fara’s cloaks. The edges were singed, but it was warm. Her skin had color again—faint, but there. No longer cold. No longer clammy. She breathed slow, steady, chest rising with the soft rhythm of recovery.

The fire behind her popped quietly, casting flickers of orange across her pale face.

She stirred.

Her eyes fluttered open, at first glassy, confused. Then her pupils focused—sharp and alert. Her instincts always came back first.

She pushed herself up on an elbow, muscles trembling. The blanket slipped from her shoulder.

Kai was already there. He knelt beside her with a small bowl of water and a damp cloth.

“Easy,” he said gently.

She scanned the room with narrowed eyes. Skye was slouched near the door, asleep but armed, her hand close to the hilt of her sword. Revoli was a mess of tangled limbs and half-kicked blankets, softly snoring. Fara stood at the window, her back straight, tails shifting slowly—three now, the third one heavier, slower in its movements.

Patrona’s gaze lingered on Fara’s tails. Her eyes flickered with thought. But she said nothing.

“None of them trust me,” she rasped, voice dry like dust.

Kai dipped the cloth, wrung it out, and gently pressed it to her forehead. “No,” he said. “But they didn’t leave you outside either.”

She winced slightly at the touch, but didn’t pull away.

“Lockwood’s gone,” she muttered after a moment. “He was the only one willing to give me a name again.”

“So you stayed loyal to him.”

“I stayed useful,” she said. Her voice sharpened. “There’s a difference.”

Kai nodded slowly. “Then be useful to us. If you’re sincere, there’s nothing to fear.”

Patrona gave a short, bitter laugh. “You don’t know what people fear from someone like me.”

Kai’s hand paused mid-motion. His voice was quiet. “I know what people fear. And I know what they pretend to be when they think no one’s looking.”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak right away. Her jaw clenched.

“You don’t understand what it means to be darkborn,” she said after a long silence.

“No,” Kai said, steady. “But I know what it feels like to believe you’re the monster everyone thinks they see.”

Her mouth twitched—almost a flinch.

Then something in her cracked.

“It was one kiss,” she whispered. “Just one. And it shattered me.”

Kai said nothing. He let her speak.

“I was sent to stop you,” she said. “I was the one above the fountain, remember? The ambush.”

He nodded. “I remember.”

“I had you. I had everything—stealth, darkness, surprise. I’d dropped men bigger and faster than you before they knew I was there. But you didn’t draw your weapon. You didn’t try to fight. You just looked at me like…”

She shook her head. A dry laugh escaped her lips. “You looked at me like I was more than the mask.”

Her fingers curled tighter in the blanket. “And then you kissed me.”

Kai’s expression shifted, but he still said nothing.

“I’ve killed for less than that,” she murmured. “I thought it was bait. Some trick. Nobody ever touched me like that and didn’t follow it with violence or betrayal. But you… you didn’t even flinch.”

Her voice dropped to a hush.

“You gave me something I didn’t know I needed. And when I looked into your eyes… I didn’t see the thing I had become. I saw someone I hadn’t been in years. I saw myself.”

Kai’s gaze softened.

“I’ve been used before,” she said. “Not like people think. Not in beds. In power games. In silence. Gregory and the others… they made me their symbol. Their threat. The warning others whispered about. And I let it happen. I wore it like armor.”

She closed her eyes.

“Lockwood found me soaked in rain, crouched under a balcony with nothing left. No direction. No mission. No name. He pulled me out and gave me purpose again. Said I could be anything—even just a shadow with a home.”

Kai’s voice was soft. “And now?”

She looked up at him. The anger wasn’t gone, but the edge had dulled. “Now I don’t know who I am anymore.”

He brushed a damp strand of black hair from her cheek. “Then stay,” he said. “Figure it out. With us.”

She didn’t reply. But this time, she didn’t look away.

Across the room, Fara stood at the window, arms folded. The morning sun crept in slow. Her three tails swayed behind her, the newest one lagging behind the others—sluggish and deliberate.

Kai walked over. He stopped just behind her.

“I counted three,” he said.

Her voice was calm. “Yes.”

“When?”

“During the trial. I shielded Revoli. Took a blast full-force. I felt it form right after.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t want to.”

She turned around. Her yellow eyes flicked up to meet his. “Every tail changes something. It’s not just magic. It reshapes me. Body and soul. With every tail, I’m closer to… something else.”

“What happens when you reach nine?”

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “But it’s not life the way we know it.”

Kai stepped closer. He could feel her energy radiating off her skin—warm, electric, living.

“Do you die?” he asked.

“Maybe. Maybe I become something more. Or less. Either way… I’m no longer me.”

He placed a hand gently on her side, just beneath her ribs. Her breath hitched, then steadied. Her hand found his and rested on top of it, thumb tracing the curve of his knuckles.

“I see you,” he said. “Still you. Just stronger. Just braver.”

Her eyes searched his face.

“You always say things like that,” she whispered. “And I never know how to answer.”

“You don’t have to.”

They stood there together, unmoving, close. No kiss. Just quiet.

The kind of quiet where everything is finally safe.

“I don’t want to go,” she said. “Not yet.”

“Then don’t,” Kai replied. “Stay. As long as you can.”

Fara’s eyes shimmered with unspoken fear—but also trust. Her tails brushed lightly against his legs, tender and slow.

He didn’t pull away.

And behind them, Patrona—still wrapped in borrowed warmth—finally allowed herself to rest.
She didn’t sleep.
But for the first time in a long while, she stopped reaching for her blade.