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Chapter 470
~Zara’s POV~
The scent of blood hit first. Thick. tallic and so wrong.
I was running, bare feet pounding across ground that shifted beneath —sotis stone, sotis grass, sotis nothing at all.
The air was silent, too silent, as if the world held its breath just before it broke.
The trees around twisted like they were alive, branches reaching toward like claws. I wasn’t sure where I was going. I only knew I had to get there.
He’s hurt.
The thought wasn’t mine, but it pulsed in my head like a drumbeat.
"He’s dying."
I stumbled through the clearing and ca to a halt. Davion lay on the ground, eyes closed, chest still.
His shirt was soaked with blood, crimson spreading beneath him like a blooming flower. The sight of him knocked the breath from my lungs.
"No..." I choked out, stumbling toward him. "No, no, no..."
I dropped to my knees, reaching for him.
But just as my fingers touched his cheek, his body shimred—flickered—and suddenly, it wasn’t Davion lying there.
It was Snow.
I gasped and retracted my hand briefly before looking around, making sure I wasn’t mistaken.
His black hair was splayed across the ground with the tips coloured blue now, just as Davion’s was coloured purple.
Snow’s expression was peaceful, as if he had simply fallen asleep in a field of death. The wound was still there, fresh and gaping.
"No!" I scread.
I pressed my hands to his chest, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to do sothing, anything—but he didn’t stir.
Tears blurred my vision. I blinked, and suddenly the world shifted again. His body was breaking apart.
First his hands, then his chest, then his face—all crumbling into sand. Grain by grain, Snow slipped through my fingers, disappearing into the wind like he had never been real at all.
I gasped, falling forward, my hands clawing at the pile of sand that had once been him.
Then the growls started. Low, hungry growls all around .
I looked up, breath hitching in my throat.
Rogue wolves—half-shifted, eyes gleaming with bloodlust—circled . So wore tattered remains of clothing, others dripped with fresh gore. Their teeth were bared, and they stalked closer with each second.
I tried to rise, to run, but my legs wouldn’t move. I was paralysed, kneeling in the dust of the one I’d loved, surrounded by the things that had taken him from .
One of the wolves lunged—snapping jaws just inches from my face.
But then, everything stopped.
The wolves froze. The air grew heavier. And behind , I felt sothing shift.
A breath. A heartbeat.
I turned slowly, not daring to hope.
Snow’s body lay once more in the center of the circle. Whole. Still.
And then his eyes opened.
They weren’t blue.
They were a deep, glowing violet—unnatural and otherworldly. They stared straight into , through , as if peeling back every layer of my soul.
"Zara," he said, voice low and echoing like it didn’t belong to this world. "Wake up."
I gasped—and sat bolt upright in bed, chest heaving, heart racing, drenched in cold sweat.
The room was dark, moonlight filtering through the curtains. Everything was still.
Just a dream. Just a nightmare.
But my hands still shook.
I slid out of bed carefully, trying not to wake Snow, and padded out into the hallway. My feet found the kitchen with ease. I poured a glass of water, the cold ceramic chilling against my skin as I drank.
I leaned against the counter, heart still thundering.
What had that been?
Davion. Snow. The sand. The wolves. The eyes... Violet eyes.
That detail clung to like a thorn beneath the skin.
I pressed the cool glass to my forehead, willing my thoughts to slow.
But sothing deep inside whispered that it hadn’t been just a dream.
Not entirely and the terrifying part was... it wasn’t the first ti sothing strange had happened. It was already manifesting in real life.
I was tempted to pick up my phone and call Davion, but I resisted the urge.
The kitchen was dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint blue glow of the moonlight seeping through the windows.
I sat at the edge of the wooden bench, both hands wrapped around my cup.
I stared into the still water in my glass, watching the reflection of my own wide, tired eyes. Davion’s eyes had been violet. And Snow’s—Snow’s had never been that color until now.
And what about the other day? When I’d turned to look at him, and for just a flicker of a second, his left eye had been a different color—blue like frost, not the usual shimring silver.
Heterochromia. Fleeting, but distinct.
I closed my eyes, my fingers tightening around the glass. I felt like I was losing my grip on what was real and what was dream. Was I just projecting? Or was sothing... changing?
A soft knock pulled from my thoughts.
The kitchen door eased open, and in stepped Siona, her hair braided back, dressed in a simple nightrobe. She didn’t look surprised to find awake, almost like she had expected it.
"Couldn’t sleep?" she asked gently.
I shook my head. "Nightmares."
Siona walked to the counter, poured herself so tea from the pot that always seed magically warm, and sat across from , her sharp violet eyes scanning my face.
"You’re troubled," she said. "Speak it."
Sothing in her tone—the calm authority, the quiet patience—unlocked the words that had been stuck in my throat.
I told her everything.
From the dream—seeing Davion die, only for him to beco Snow, and then for Snow to crumble into sand. The rogue wolves. The eyes. The eerie shift in energy.
And then I added, in a softer voice, "It’s not just in my dreams. Snow’s eyes... they did turn violet. Just for a second. And two days ago, one of them changed. Turned icy blue before it shifted back."
Siona went still. She sipped her tea in silence for a few long monts, as if letting my words sink into the bones of the room.
Then she nodded slowly. "I suspected this might happen."
My brow furrowed. "You what?"
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