My girlfriend is trapped in my superpower

The morning came far too bright for the heaviness I carried in my chest. Sunlight cut through the shutters of my room like blades, slicing across the floor. I stared at it for a long time before finally forcing myself out of bed.

No training today. The Masters had decreed it after the last battle, claiming we needed rest. A "gesture of goodwill." I couldn't help but hear it as a pause before they try again.

When I stepped outside, the village was awake in a way it hadn't been in days. Merchants barked over fruit carts, children darted between wagons, laughter rose from corners like sparks catching in the air. For once, Ashthorne felt alive.

Bram was already waiting at the well, tossing stones into the bucket and grinning when he spotted me. "Finally! I was about to storm your room. Thought you'd turned into some brooding statue again."

"I don't brood," I muttered, rubbing at my neck.

"You are brooding," Mira's voice cut in as she joined us, her dark braid swinging over her shoulder. She carried a basket of bread, the steam of fresh loaves curling into the air. "But at least you're walking. Eat before Bram devours everything."

We sat on the edge of the well, sharing bread, trading jabs. For a while, it almost felt normal. Lyra stayed quiet, lurking in the back of my mind like a cat curled in shadows. But every laugh, every bite of bread, every smile—they all weighed heavier against what I knew.

The Masters scheming. Sareth sneaking away. My bloodline—Selene. Every piece pointed me away from this place. Away from Bram. Away from Mira.

The decision came like a knife drawn in secret. If I wanted answers, I couldn't stay here waiting for them to be handed out in half-truths. I had to leave Ashthorne. Alone. Away from Corvin and Korran before they strike.

That night, when the village hushed under moonlight, I packed lightly. A cloak. A waterskin. A blade. I moved like a shadow, careful not to wake anyone as I crept through the halls. My chest ached with every step.

I was almost to the gate when a voice stopped me.

"Kael."

I froze. Bram stood there, leaning against the post like he'd been waiting for me the whole time. His grin was gone, replaced by something sharper. "Going somewhere?"

I swallowed hard. "…I need to."

"To what? Run off in the middle of the night? Leave us behind without a word?" His voice wasn't angry—it was hurt. That made it worse.

"This isn't your fight," I said, the words harsh on my tongue.

"The hell it isn't!" Bram stepped forward, eyes blazing. "After everything we've been through, after Mira nearly died, after you nearly died—you think we'll just let you vanish? You think so little of us?"

The noise drew Mira. She appeared behind him, her expression unreadable, but her voice cut clean. "Is it true? Were you leaving us?"

I couldn't answer. My silence spoke louder than words.

Her jaw tightened, eyes shining with something that twisted in my gut. Disappointment. Betrayal. "After all this time, Kael…"

"I have to find out who I am," I finally said, the confession clawing out of me. "If I stay here, they'll keep hiding it. Sareth. The Masters. Everyone. I can't—" My voice cracked, and I hated it. "I can't keep walking blind."

Bram shook his head, his fists clenched. "So your answer is to walk away from us? To lie to us? We're supposed to be a team, Kael. Family, even."

"I'm not…" I exhaled, shaking. "I'm not ready to tell you everything yet."

That was the truth, and the wound it carved showed in their faces. Mira looked away first, her voice low. "Then maybe we're not ready to follow you."

The silence that followed was worse than any blade.

The silence after Mira's words pressed down on me harder than any weight I'd ever lifted. Bram stood rigid, Mira's eyes glinted with something between sorrow and anger, and I… I felt like the ground beneath me had vanished.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came. Every word tasted like betrayal before I even spoke it.

Then Lyra stirred. "Well, well," she purred from inside my mind, her tone dripping sarcasm. "Look at you. Prince of secrets, breaking hearts like it's your grand destiny. Should I clap, or would that ruin the drama?"

"Not now," I hissed under my breath.

Bram narrowed his eyes. "Not now, what?"

"Nothing," I muttered. Too late.

Mira's gaze sharpened. "You're hiding more than just your plans." Her voice cracked, almost a whisper, but laced with venom. "It's not just about leaving. What are you carrying, Kael?"

I wanted to tell them everything. About my bloodline. About the shadow of something monstrous pressing closer every day. But my throat tightened like a vise. The words wouldn't come.

Before the silence could crush me again, the ground beneath us trembled. A low, raspy rumble rolled through Ashthorne like thunder dragged across stone.

The three of us snapped our heads toward the village gates. Torches flickered violently, and from beyond the walls came the sound of something primal—heavy, uneven breathing, followed by a scream that shattered the night.

Bram's fists curled. "Not now," he growled. "Not when—"

The scream cut him off. Another rumble shook the ground.

Mira grabbed her blade, already sprinting toward the gate. "Talk later. Fight now!"

Bram shot me a look, a thousand words locked behind his clenched jaw, then turned to follow her. I—hesitated.

In that moment, with the villagers panicking, the walls shuddering, and the sound of something massive slamming against the gates, I knew the truth:

Whoever was out there wasn't after Ashthorne. They were after me.

Lyra's voice coiled sharp in my skull, mocking and warning all at once. "Guess your little midnight stroll isn't happening. Looks like the monsters decided to give you a send-off party instead."

I clenched my fists, cloak falling useless at my feet. The choice I'd tried to make in secret had been ripped open, exposed under firelight. I couldn't run. I couldn't hide. Not anymore.

And as the gates cracked, splinters flying, and a shadow loomed against the torchlight—massive, twisted, almost hungry—the truth hit me harder than any blade:

If I wanted to uncover my past, I'd have to survive the future first.