the rejected mate: special awakening

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They were just finishing their third round of sweet fire dumplings—Liora's idea, obviously—when Felice paused mid-bite.

"Someone's watching us," she said quietly.

Liora, ever the chaos goblin, licked her fingers. "Well, if they wanted to murder us, they missed their chance before I got full. Let's go see who it is."

Before Felice could object, Liora grabbed her arm and yanked her down a dark alley between two market stalls.

The moment they rounded the corner, a figure stepped from the shadows. Tall. Hooded. Wrapped in a cloak that shimmered faintly in the moonlight like it had been sewn with starlight.

"Felice," the figure said, their voice deep and oddly calm. "You shouldn't be here."

Felice blinked. "Excuse me?"

Liora raised a brow. "Rude. You shouldn't be here either, Mister 'I Skulk in Alleys at Night.'"

The figure ignored her. "There are eyes on you, girl of three bloods. Powers that stir when you walk freely. You must be careful. They're coming."

Felice stiffened. "Who's coming?"

"Those who fear what you are. Those who would use you. The moment you stepped into the world again, the balance shifted."

Liora stepped between them, arms crossed. "Okay, very cryptic and dramatic. But either you tell us what's going on or I start throwing street pies."

The figure chuckled—low and eerie. "You are bold, princess."

"You have no idea."

The figure turned back to Felice. "You'll know more soon. The truth was hidden, but it can't stay buried forever. Not now. Not with you awakening."

And before Felice could ask literally anything useful, the stranger tossed down a crystal that exploded into a swirl of smoke and… was just gone.

"Did… did that dude just vanish like a magician at a birthday party?" Liora asked.

Felice nodded slowly. "Yep. And I think… I think I've seen that cloak before. In one of my mother's old visions."

Liora groaned. "Girl. If this turns into some ancient bloodline chosen one thing, I swear I'm going to need snacks and stronger tea."

Felice didn't answer. Her hand brushed the dagger at her hip.

Something was coming.

And this time, she wouldn't run.

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