My girlfriend is trapped in my superpower

Lyra's laughter, low and wicked, rippled in my skull. "See? Even the shadows know. This little game isn't just between you and beasts, Kael. The humans in this room will gut you faster than the Devourer if it means holding the leash."

I looked up slowly. The Masters were watching me—not the note, not the bleeding bodies, me.

Bram whistled under his breath. "Well, that's subtle."

"Who wrote it?" Mira asked. Her voice was tight, her eyes scanning the room.

"Someone who knows more than they should," I muttered.

Corvin finally spoke, his tone grave but soft, like he wanted to soothe the air. "This is a warning meant to divide us. Do not let paranoia weaken what little unity remains."

Lyra snorted. 'Oh, he's good. That man's words taste like honey—and hide the knife right under the tongue."

Deyra added sharply, "Or perhaps it's the creature's trickery. A note from the shadows to drive us apart."

Korran chuckled, his teeth flashing. "Or maybe," he said, eyes gleaming at me, "it's meant for him. To remind us that no leash can hold fire forever."

The air snapped taut.

Mira stepped closer to me, protective despite her own wounds. Bram moved too, blade lifting—not at the Masters, but angled in such a way that it could turn toward them if it needed to.

The three Masters stood calm and collected. But I could feel it. The tension wasn't in their words—it was in the way they all measured me like hunters circling prey. I closed my hand around the note until the parchment crumpled.

I knew—whoever sent it was right. Not all enemies wore fangs.mSome wore robes. Some smiled. And some stood just a few feet away, calling themselves Masters.

The hall felt smaller when we finally left the ruined chamber, though it was enormous by any measure. Every step echoed as if the walls themselves wanted to remind us we were still inside their grip.

The Masters walked ahead in their flowing robes, silent shadows against firelit stone. Mira's eyes tracked them with every stride. Bram whistled low under his breath, purposefully loud enough for Deyra to hear.

"So," he drawled, "just me, or did that little cryptic note scream inside job?"

Deyra's head snapped toward him, her expression like a drawn blade. "Careful with your tongue, boy."

Bram grinned. "Oh, don't worry. I've been told I'm very careful with it. Ask Mira."

Mira slapped his arm, hard. "You're insufferable."

He winked at her. "And yet you haven't killed me. Progress."

Lyra's voice spilled into the air beside me as she manifested in her usual form—dark hair, mocking eyes, lips curled into a wolfish smirk. She strolled like she owned the corridor. "Honestly, Bram's right. That note didn't reek of monsters. Monsters don't waste time with words. They just bite." She licked her lips. "Humans, though? Oh, they adore games."

The Masters stiffened but said nothing. Corvin's shoulders tensed, and Korran shot Lyra a sideways glance full of interest, not fear.

"Lyra." Mira's tone was sharp, like she was speaking to a child on the verge of breaking something valuable. "Maybe don't pour oil on the fire?"

Lyra gave her a sweet, poisonous smile. "Oh, darling Mira, the fire's already here. I'm just fanning the smoke so you can see where it's coming from."

I rubbed my temple. "Enough."

But no one truly listened. They never listen.

When we reached the chambers assigned to us, the Masters paused outside. Corvin finally broke the silence, his voice even.

"Rest. Tomorrow's trials will test more than strength. They will test resolve. Do not let shadows cloud your judgment."

Then, without another word, they turned and glided down the hall, robes trailing like smoke.

As soon as their steps faded, Bram slumped against the wall. "Well, that was fun. Can't wait for tomorrow's resolve testing. Sounds like a real bonding experience."

Mira folded her arms, her jaw tight. "They're hiding something."

Lyra leaned close to Bram, conspiratorial. "See, she's the smart one. Knew I liked you, Mira. You'd make an excellent little demon if you'd just let me chew on your morals a bit."

"Try it," Mira muttered, "and I'll cut your tongue out."

"Promises, promises," Lyra purred.

I said nothing. The note was still clenched in my fist, crumpled beyond recognition, but its words pulsed in my mind like a brand burned into flesh.

Not all enemies wear fangs.

Sleep would not come easy tonight.

The chamber they'd given me was larger than the inn room, but it felt no less confining. Heavy drapes muffled the city sounds outside, the hearth burned low, and shadows leaned long against the stone walls.

I sat on the edge of the bed, turning the crumpled note over and over between my fingers. The ink had smudged, but the words were still sharp as blades.

Not all enemies wear fangs.

"Creepy bedtime stories," Lyra murmured, suddenly sprawled across the armchair in the corner. She had her boots up on the carved armrest, twirling a dagger she hadn't had a second ago. "Whoever slipped you that little love letter has flair. I almost respect it."

I didn't look at her. "You're enjoying this."

"Of course I am." She leaned forward, her grin wolfish. "You're finally starting to see it, Kael. Trust is just another leash people use to strangle each other. And right now, half the Masters want you leashed… or gutted."

I shoved the note into my pocket and lay back on the bed. "Enough."

But her laughter followed me as I shut my eyes. A soft knock at the door.

I sat up immediately, hand to the hilt of my blade. "Who?"

"It's me," Mira's voice, low, urgent.

I opened the door to find her wrapped in a simple robe, hair unbound, eyes sharper than daggers despite the hour. She stepped inside before I could invite her, gaze flicking over the corners of the room as if checking for eavesdroppers.

"You can't keep carrying that thing alone," she said.

"The note?"

Her lips pressed tight. "The weight of it. Whatever it means. Whoever sent it." She looked at me then, searching my face. "Do you believe it?"

I didn't answer.

From the chair, Lyra drawled, "Oh, he believes it. He's just too stubborn to admit it out loud. Isn't that right, Kael?"

Mira froze, eyes snapping to Lyra. Her whole body stiffened, but not in fear—more like barely leashed irritation. "You're out again."

Lyra stretched like a cat. "Mmm, you say that like it's a bad thing. Don't worry, darling. I'm not here to ruin your little midnight confession. Yet."

Mira glared at her, then turned back to me. "You need to watch them. All of them. Even the ones who pretend to be allies." Her voice dropped. "Especially the ones who smile too much."

Before I could reply, Bram's muffled voice called through the wall. "Oi! If you two are gonna whisper sweet nothings all night, at least keep it down. Some of us are trying to dream about beer."

Lyra burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. "Oh gods, I love him."

Mira pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why do I travel with you people?"

I just sat there, caught between their voices, the note burning like a coal in my pocket, and the sense that sleep would remain a stranger tonight.