My girlfriend is trapped in my superpower

The air was electric, thick with clashing wills. One wrong move and the clearing would turn into a battlefield.

Lucien's hand twitched toward his blade, cloak snapping in the rising wind. Mira's bowstring creaked as she drew it taut, her aim bouncing between Lyra and Lucien. Bram, to his credit, just muttered, "Well, this escalated quickly," and spun his knives between his fingers like he was warming up for a circus act.

Meanwhile, Lyra tightened her grip on my arm, heat radiating off her like a living forge. "Back off," she warned, her voice smooth but sharp as glass. "He's mine now. Chosen is chosen. You don't get a redo."

"Chosen?" Lucien snarled. His composure cracked completely, desperation spilling into rage. "That artifact was not meant for him. The bloodline is—" He cut himself short, chest heaving, as though spitting the truth aloud would set the whole forest ablaze.

Mira's voice was like an arrow loosed. "Then explain, Lucien. If Kael isn't the heir, why did the relic choose him? Why did*she step out of it with his name on her lips?"

Lucien's jaw tightened. He didn't answer.

The orb—fading now that Lyra had manifested—still pulsed faintly at my feet, glowing like a heartbeat gone wrong. Each thrum synced with my own pulse, and no matter how hard I tried not to notice, it was like being chained to something vast and hungry.

"Uh," I said, raising a shaky hand, "can we maybe not kill each other right now? My arm's still bleeding, I'm dizzy, and apparently I've adopted a magical girlfriend against my will. This is… a lot."

Lyra's grin widened. "Against your will? Don't lie, Kael. You've felt me. You've heard me. You knew I was yours long before I stepped out."

Mira made a strangled sound in her throat. Bram whispered, "Oh, this is better than theater," before Mira smacked him on the arm.

Lucien's eyes blazed as he finally snapped. "You don't understand. That thing is not a gift—it's a curse! It ties you to the throne you cannot hold. It marks you for enemies you cannot defeat. You think the ambush today was a coincidence? No. They smelled the relic waking, and more will come. Stronger. Hungrier."

A shiver rippled through me. My stomach flipped as the words sank in. Marked. Enemies. Throne. None of that sounded like the paycheck I'd signed up for.

Lyra leaned closer, whispering at my ear, her voice silk over a blade. "Don't listen to him. He's afraid. Afraid that you've taken the power meant for him. Afraid you'll become what he could never be."

Lucien's gaze locked with mine. Raw, furious, and something else—fear. "If you stay with that relic, Kael, you will die."

The glow around Lyra flared. She straightened, eyes blazing with unearthly light, her aura washing over all of us like fire. "Then he'll die chosen, not forgotten."

The ground trembled beneath us. The orb cracked again, a shockwave shuddering out in every direction, bending the trees, scattering ash. The mark of the relic—its light—burned faintly into my skin across my collarbone, hot and unyielding.

Bram stared. "Kael, buddy… you're literally glowing."

I looked down. He wasn't wrong. The faint outline of a sigil shimmered against my chest, curling like molten script.

Lucien swore, the words old and guttural. "The bond is complete."

And just like that, I knew—whatever fragile normal I'd clung to was gone.

Lyra turned to me, smiling like a cat with cream. "Guess we're stuck together now, darling."

I swallowed hard. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

The silence after Lucien vanished into the trees didn't feel like peace. It felt like a blade held over our heads, waiting to drop.

Bram broke it first, his blades sheathing with a hiss. "Well, that went well. Just your average night: glowing orbs, mysterious girlfriends, doom-wizard storming off into the shadows. Totally normal."

Mira shot him a look, then turned to me and Lyra. "We move. Now. Whatever that thing is, it just broadcast itself across half the forest. I'd bet my bow we're not the only ones who felt it."

Lyra's grin faded. She tilted her head as if listening to something I couldn't hear. "She's right. They're coming."

"Who?" I asked, my throat tight.

The ground answered for her. A tremor rippled underfoot, subtle at first, then stronger. Birds burst out of the trees in a panicked cloud. Something—no, many somethings—were closing in fast.

Bram cursed. "Please let it be bunnies. Giant, fluffy, harmless bunnies."

The treeline shivered. Shadows peeled out of it, long-limbed, wrong-shaped. At first they looked human, cloaked and hooded—but as they stepped closer, the firelight caught glints of obsidian masks and the shimmer of runes carved into their skin.

"Sentinels," Lyra murmured, her hand tightening on my arm.

Mira's face went pale. "The cult?"

Lyra nodded. "Guardians of the sealed heir's relic. They've been waiting for the day someone broke the seal. And now that it's bonded…" Her gaze cut to me. "They'll kill you to take it back."

"Oh, fantastic," I muttered. "Do I get hazard pay for this?"

The nearest Sentinel raised its hand. Runes flared down its arm, and a sickly-green blade of light coiled into existence, humming like a nest of angry wasps. The others followed suit, a dozen weapons igniting the night.

Bram pulled both daggers, flashing a grin that was more nerves than humor. "Guess that's a no."

Mira already had an arrow notched. Her voice was sharp. "Kael. Stay behind me."

"Actually," Lyra purred, stepping in front of me, her aura flaring like fire caught on oil, "this time, he's the reason they're here. He doesn't get to hide."

Before I could argue, the Sentinels lunged, rushing into us in perfect unison—twelve black-cloaked figures, masks gleaming in the moonlight, blades of sickly-green light humming with runes. Their movements weren't human: too sharp, too silent, like puppets pulled by a single unseen hand.

"Stay together!" Mira barked, her bowstring snapping as she loosed two arrows in quick succession. Both found their marks—but instead of falling, the Sentinels staggered, glowing runes across their chests eating the arrows into ash.

"Great," Bram muttered, twirling his daggers. "Magic-eating mummies. My favorite."

The first Sentinel reached him. Bram dropped low, steel flashing as he swept its legs out with a spin. The figure toppled—but didn't even grunt. It just reached for him with unnatural speed.

"Not today!" Bram snarled, jamming both blades under its mask. Sparks spat. The Sentinel collapsed in a heap, but its body twitched unnervingly, like it wasn't sure whether to stay dead.

Another came for me. My pulse thundered in my ears as I raised my hands—what was I supposed to do? Punch glowing rune warriors?

"Kael!" Lyra's voice cut through my panic. "Don't think. Just feel it."

"I'd prefer not to feel being stabbed!"

"Shut up and reach! The power is already inside you!"

The Sentinel lunged. Instinct screamed at me to dodge, but Lyra's presence inside my chest pulled me instead. My hand shot up—and suddenly the air rippled. A burst of violet light roared from my palm, slamming into the creature's chest. The runes flared once, then shattered like glass. The Sentinel flew back and crumpled, smoking.

I staggered, panting. "What… what the hell was that?"

Lyra's grin was wild, her golden eyes burning. "Our bond. The heir's power recognized you."

"Couldn't it have recognized me yesterday before I nearly got skewered?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

Two more Sentinels closed in, blades humming. Mira was already loosing arrows, driving them back, while Bram whirled between two others like a storm of steel, his laughter half-mad.

"Kael, focus!" Mira shouted. "Whatever you just did—do it again!"

"Yeah, no pressure!" I raised my hands, but nothing happened this time. Just empty air.

The nearest Sentinel swung its blade down at me— and Lyra stepped in, hand snapping up. A shield of burning light flared between us, the blade sparking against it. "He's mine," she hissed. Then she shoved. The shield exploded outward, flinging the creature across the clearing.

"Show-off," I muttered.

"Learner," she shot back.

The fight turned brutal. Mira's arrows found weak points—joints, exposed runes—slowing them down, but never quite finishing them. Bram darted like a shadow, every strike precise, yet more Sentinels kept coming, their movements eerily coordinated.

Then something worse happened. The fallen Sentinels began to rise again.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Bram groaned, kicking one back down. "Do these guys come with a warranty? Because I'm filing a complaint!"

Lyra's expression darkened. "They're bound by a hive rune. Unless you break the source, they'll keep reanimating."

"Where's the source?!" Mira demanded.

Lyra pointed. Beyond the circle of trees, glowing faintly, was a sigil carved into the earth—an anchor, pulsing with sickly green.

"That's it!" Lyra shouted. "Kael, with me!"

"Wait, me? Why always me?!"

"Because it chose you, idiot!" She grabbed my hand, and heat surged through my veins, setting my skin on fire. The world tilted, and suddenly we weren't running—we were sliding through air, pulled toward the sigil like gravity had been rewritten.

The Sentinels turned in unison, masks swiveling, as if one thought controlled them all. Too late.

Lyra thrust her hand forward, pressing mine to the glowing sigil. The moment our palms touched it, a violent crack split the clearing. Green light screamed upward, shattering into sparks. The rune burst like glass under a hammer.

All at once, the Sentinels froze mid-step. Their blades flickered out. Masks tilted lifelessly as bodies collapsed like puppets with their strings cut and the forest fell silent.

Smoke curled from the broken anchor at my feet. My knees buckled, but Lyra steadied me, her arm sliding around my waist.

"You did well," she murmured.

I laughed, shaky and bitter. "I nearly got gutted six times."

"And yet, you're still here." Her smile turned soft. "That's what matters."

Behind us, Bram dropped onto a log, wiping sweat from his brow. "I hate forest missions. Give me a tavern brawl any day."

Mira lowered her bow, still breathing hard, her eyes flicking between me and Lyra. Suspicion lingered there, sharp as her arrows. "We need to talk about her," she said flatly.

Lyra's smirk widened. "Yes. I believe this is the part where I say…" She leaned forward, golden eyes glinting. "Hello, teammates. I'm Kael's girlfriend."

Bram nearly choked on his own laughter. Mira did not laugh and before I could explain—or deny, or even breathe—a low, resonant bell tolled in the distance. Not church bells. Guild bells.

Mira stiffened. "They're summoning us."

"To report?" Bram asked.

Her eyes flicked back to me. To Lyra. "To account."

The bell's toll reverberated through the night, low and commanding. Even the air seemed to tighten at its sound.

Bram sat up straighter, grin fading. "That's not the dinner bell."

"No," Mira said grimly. "That's the Guild demanding we return. Immediately."

The weight of her words pressed heavier than the silence left by the fallen Sentinels. My stomach twisted. I glanced at Lyra—her hand still looped loosely in mine, her smile infuriatingly calm. She looked like someone who had just arrived where she belonged.

"They'll want answers," Mira added, eyes narrowing. "About that." She jerked her chin toward Lyra.

Lyra only tilted her head, golden eyes gleaming as if daring Mira to ask the wrong question.

I swallowed hard. The Guild already didn't trust me. With Lyra standing here in the flesh—power humming at her fingertips—they'd either see her as proof of my worth… or as a threat that needed to be cut out.

The bell tolled again.

And I knew, whatever waited for me back at the Guild, nothing about my life—or Lyra's place in it—would ever be the same.