Silvercrest Academy – The Temple of the Old Bloods
The world had changed.
Or maybe it was just Ronan who had changed.
Power still hummed beneath his skin, raw and untamed. The Forsaken energy inside him no longer felt dormant. It felt awake. Hungry.
And now, standing in the temple ruins, surrounded by the Moon Reapers, Ronan realized something terrifying—
He wasn't afraid.
He should have been.
He wasn't.
The Reaper Commander took another step forward, green eyes gleaming with quiet calculation.
"Interesting," the commander mused. "I expected a monster."
Ronan smirked, but it was laced with something darker this time. "And?"
The commander's lips curled slightly. "I wasn't wrong."
Then he lifted his hand.
"Kill him."
The Reapers moved as one.
Their black cloaks flared as they closed in, silver blades flashing through the air.
Selene vanished into the shadows, reappearing behind one of them, her daggers slicing cleanly across his throat before he even realized she was there.
Kael stayed where he was, arms crossed. "Try not to die, Blackwood. It'd be embarrassing if you unlocked ancient power just to get gutted five minutes later."
Ronan ignored him.
The first Reaper lunged—too slow.
Ronan sidestepped effortlessly, his movements almost too precise, too sharp. The blade missed by inches, and in that split-second opening—
Ronan struck.
He caught the attacker's wrist mid-strike.
Then, with inhuman force, he twisted.
A sickening crack.
The Reaper's arm snapped backward at an unnatural angle, a choked scream escaping his lips. Ronan slammed his palm into the man's chest, sending him flying into the nearest pillar.
Another Reaper came from behind—
Ronan moved before his mind even processed the attack.
He turned, caught the second attacker by the throat, and drove him into the stone floor.
The sound of bones shattering echoed through the temple.
Too easy.
Something inside him whispered. Urged.
"More."
The third Reaper hesitated, eyes wide.
Ronan grinned. "Your turn."
The man swung wildly, silver blade aiming for Ronan's throat.
Ronan didn't even flinch.
He caught the sword barehanded.
The silver should have burned.
It didn't.
The Reaper's eyes filled with horror. "That's… not possible."
Ronan snapped the blade in half.
Then, with one final strike—he ended him.
Kael whistled. "Well, that escalated quickly."
Ronan barely heard him.
The whispers inside him were louder now.
"This is what you are."
"This is what you were made to be."
The power wanted more.
Selene reappeared at his side, panting slightly, daggers dripping with Reaper blood. "Ronan."
His head snapped toward her.
Selene took half a step back.
Not in fear.
In recognition.
"You felt it, didn't you?" she murmured. "Whatever's inside you… it's pushing you to kill."
Ronan exhaled sharply, forcing himself to steady his breathing.
She was right.
It hadn't been just the thrill of the fight. Something else was urging him forward, making him faster, stronger, hungrier.
He clenched his fists, ignoring the lingering heat in his veins.
"I'm fine," he muttered.
Kael snorted. "You're the farthest thing from fine, Blackwood. You're barely holding onto yourself right now, and it shows."
Ronan glared at him. "If you're about to give me a speech on control, save it."
Kael smirked. "Not at all. I'm saying if you don't start figuring out who's controlling who, you're going to end up like the ones before you."
Ronan's breath stilled.
Selene's expression darkened. "The ones before him?"
Kael tilted his head, silver eyes glinting. "What, you thought Ronan was the first Forsaken to awaken?"
Silence.
Then—
Kael chuckled. "No. There were others."
A slow clap echoed through the temple.
The remaining Reapers stepped aside as their commander strode forward, completely unbothered by the bodies littering the stone floor.
He surveyed Ronan with quiet curiosity, his green eyes gleaming. "Impressive. You're adapting faster than I expected."
Ronan didn't relax. "You expected me to adapt?"
The commander inclined his head. "Of course. If I wanted you dead, you would be."
Selene tensed. "Then why send your men after him?"
The commander exhaled. "Because I needed to see something for myself."
He stepped closer, meeting Ronan's gaze.
"You're different from the others."
Ronan clenched his fists. "You mean the Forsaken before me?"
The commander's expression remained neutral. "No. I mean the ones who survived."
Selene inhaled sharply.
Ronan's muscles locked. "You're lying."
The commander smiled faintly. "Am I?"
Kael whistled lowly. "Now that's a plot twist."
Ronan's heartbeat pounded. "Where are they?"
The commander tilted his head. "That depends."
Ronan's voice sharpened. "On what?"
The commander's smirk widened. "On whether or not you're willing to make a deal."
Ronan forced himself to remain still. "What kind of deal?"
The Reaper Commander's gaze was unreadable. "The war that erased the Forsaken? It isn't over. It never was. The Old Bloods are waking up."
Selene's expression darkened. "We already know that."
The commander ignored her. "The only thing that ever kept them at bay were the Forsaken. Now that you exist again, you're a threat to them."
Ronan's jaw tightened. "And to you."
The commander nodded. "Yes. That's why I can't allow you to lose control."
He extended his hand.
"Come with me, Ronan Blackwood. Let me show you what you are, and what you were meant to be."
Ronan hesitated.
He could feel Selene watching him, waiting.
Kael's smirk remained, but there was something dangerous in his silver eyes.
Selene grabbed Ronan's arm. "No."
He turned to her.
"You can't trust them," she whispered, urgency in her tone. "They've hunted you since the moment they found out what you are. And now, suddenly, they want to help?"
Ronan exhaled. "I need answers, Selene."
She shook her head. "Not from them."
Her grip on his arm tightened, a rare flicker of something raw in her violet eyes. "They will use you. Just like they used the others."
Ronan swallowed, then looked back at the commander.
Then—
He pulled away from Selene.
And shook the Reaper Commander's hand.