Page 46 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

The scent of woodsmoke pulled me from sleep. I blinked away the heaviness in my eyes to find Aether already awake, crouched by the fire. Dark clouds churned across the horizon where sea met sky, their edges bleeding into each other until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

It seemed the tension from the night before still lingered in the air. I could feel it in the careful way he moved, in how his shoulders stiffened when I sat up. Even his shadows seemed more contained, pulled tight against his skin like armor.

"Looks like it might rain," I said, the words falling flat in the heavy air.

Aether's eyes flicked up from the fire, scanning the sea. "Looks like it."

I lowered myself to sit across from him, watching the way his fingers gripped the makeshift spit with more force than necessary. Last night's conversation hung between us like a mist.

He pulled a fish from the flames and handed it to me first. "Careful, it's hot."

Thunder rolled in the distance as we ate, the sound echoing off the cliff face. Neither of us spoke. I found myself counting the seconds between lightning and thunder, anything to fill the silence.

"Will rain affect the Vordr?" I asked, watching as Aether tossed pieces of fish to Nihr and Tryggar. The massive beasts tore into their breakfast with none of the discomfort that plagued their riders.

"They love it," he said as he finished his own meal, gaze fixed somewhere, anywhere other than me. "For the journey, it won't matter so much. We can fly above it."

I nodded, tracking another flash of lightning as it split the sky.

Aether stood abruptly, adjusting the straps of his leather armor. "When you're finished, there's something we need to do before we leave."

"We shouldn't waste time," I countered, but something in his posture told me this wasn't up for debate.

"I know you think we're going to go do all of this without struggle." His fingers worked at his weapon belt, checking each blade. "But I need you to be prepared for any outcome."

"What do you mean?"

"You've never used your shadows in battle. At least not intentionally." His eyes finally moved toward me, but settled somewhere over my shoulder. "You need to learn how to fight with it intentionally ."

I pushed myself to my feet, brushing dirt from my leathers. "I'm all ears."

Angry waves crashed against the shore as Aether began to explain, his voice taking on that familiar commanding tone I remembered from my first days in the tower. "Going in and out of spectre form can disorient your enemy. When you're pure shadow, you're resistant to physical damage. You need to use that to your advantage." He moved toward the center of the cliff, keeping well away from the edge. "But it requires speed, precision. Complete awareness of your surroundings."

I followed him, feeling the electricity in the air as another burst of thunder shook the ground beneath us.

"Try to attack me." The words were clipped.

I hesitated for only a moment before lunging forward. But where Aether had been standing, there was nothing but smoke. Before I could turn, his hands locked around my wrists, pulling them behind my back.

"You see how it can be extremely useful in a fight," he said, his breath warm against my ear. Then he released me just as quickly, and I felt cold in all the places his hands had touched.

Lightning split the sky as I spun to face him, my own shadows coiling beneath my skin in response to his challenge.

"Again," he commanded, circling me slowly. "This time, don't just attack blindly. Feel the shadows around you. Use them."

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, letting my awareness expand. Shadows were everywhere, cast by the clouds above, by the rocks scattered across the cliff, by our own bodies. They called to me.

This time when I moved, I let myself dissolve just as he had. The sensation was exhilarating—being everywhere and nowhere at once. Nothing more than black mist. I reformed behind him, but he was already turning, his arm blocking my strike with infuriating speed.

"Better." His golden eyes had darkened, shadows writhing beneath them. "But you're still thinking too much. Let instinct take over."

Thunder cracked overhead as we began to move. Aether's form blurred into darkness, and I matched him, our shadows dancing around each other like smoke. Every time I thought I had him, he would slip away, reforming just out of reach. But I was learning, watching how he moved, how he used the environment to his advantage.

I caught a glimpse of his solid form and struck, my fist connecting with his shoulder. The victory was short-lived as he grabbed my arm, using my momentum to flip me. I dissolved before I hit the ground, reforming on my feet several paces away.

"Now you're getting it," he said, and for the first time that morning, there was something other than careful distance in his voice.

We continued to spar as the storm drew closer, lightning illuminating the cliff in stark bursts. Each flash cast new shadows for us to bend and manipulate. I was beginning to understand what he meant about letting instinct take over. It was as if my body knew what to do before my mind did.

My next attack caught him off guard. I feinted left before dissolving, reforming low and sweeping his legs out from under him. But instead of falling, he turned to smoke, reappearing behind me. His arm locked around my waist, pulling me back against his chest.

"Creative," he murmured, his breath stirring my hair. "But you left yourself open."

The next clash came faster, more intense. I caught a glimpse of Aether's form through the shadows and moved instinctively, arm shooting out to grab him. But everything happened so quickly, movements blurring together, and in my flustered state, I felt my shadows begin to flow into him without permission.

Aether immediately solidified, his eyes burning. "Fia," he snapped, yanking his arm away.

"What's your problem?" Heat rushed to my face, whether from embarrassment or anger, I couldn't tell.

He laughed darkly, shaking his head as he turned away from me. "That's not how it's done. You're aware of that. "

"But why? Does it hurt you?" I asked, watching as the muscles in his back tensed beneath the leathers, how his fingers curled into fists.

He remained silent as the first raindrop splashed against my shoulder. The storm had finally reached us.

"We didn't get to do the transfer before we left. I know you must be getting close." My voice was barely audible over the growing wind.

"If you had told me about your plan before leaving Ravenfell, this wouldn't be an issue." His voice was low, almost a growl.

"I understand that. But it's not an option anymore." I watched as rain began to darken his hair, how droplets traced paths down his neck.

He turned back to me slowly, something unreadable crossing his face. "It makes it more difficult," he said, finally meeting my eyes for the first time that morning. "For me."

My heart thundered against my ribs as I moved closer, drawn by the rawness in his voice. "What does that mean?" But something in his expression told me more than his words could. The way his eyes darkened, how his breath seemed ragged as I stepped nearer.

"Do you remember when I gave you shadows on the lawn that day, how it felt?"

The memory rushed back—that moment when his darkness had filled me, how it had felt like drowning in the most exquisite way. How for one terrifying, beautiful moment, I'd almost lost myself to the sensation. How a part of me had wanted to.

I nodded, suddenly feeling flushed despite the cool rain beginning to fall.

"What I gave you is a fraction of what you just transferred to me." He took a step closer, and something in his voice made my stomach flip. His eyes burned into mine.

"Why is it difficult?" The words caught in my throat. My better judgment was roaring for me to step back, to retreat from whatever was building between us. But something treacherous in me wanted to move closer.

He paused, conflict written across his features. Rain dripped from his dark lashes as he seemed to wrestle with himself. "It makes things confusing for me." The words were careful, like they weren't the ones he really wanted to say.

"I'm confused too." The admission slipped out before I could stop it. I looked down, pushing away the guilt that came with those words—guilt about what we weren't saying, about everything I thought I knew about myself. But I could feel him closer now, feel the heat radiating off him despite the rain. His presence seemed to fill all the space around me, making it hard to think clearly.

"I felt nothing for decades." His voice was rough. "Existed, but barely lived. Hiding from no one other than myself, but hiding all the same. And then you showed up. And now..." His voice trailed off, pain crossing his face as he tried to collect himself. A dark familiarity tugged at me. "I've tried to go back to that place. But I can't find my way there. I'm not sure it even exists anymore. Not since you showed up and destroyed every wall I'd built."

His words struck something deep within me, a truth I'd been trying to ignore, but that had become so glaringly obvious over the last few days that I felt it in my bones. Laryk had been the first person to see what I could become, to believe in my potential. But Aether... Aether was the first person who understood who I'd always been. In that deep, unexplainable way that only two souls who had existed by hiding could ever truly understand.

My mind drifted to that first night in the tower, when something had sparked between us in the darkest and most confusing of ways. That connection had terrified me then. Maybe it still did. But I couldn't deny it anymore.

Rain streamed down my face as I looked up at him, my heart thundering in my chest. "That's why I'm confused, Aether. Because you've been tearing my walls down too."

Suddenly he was moving, and my world narrowed to nothing but him. His arms wrapped around me as my lips found his, and the sky split open.

Rain poured. Thunder cracked. But all I felt was the sun.

The heat of him burned through my wet clothes, searing every place we touched. I wanted more. Needed more. My fingers tangled in his hair as my shadows slipped free, seeking his darkness. The groan that tore from his throat sent lightning through my veins, and he deepened the kiss with a hunger that matched my own.

His hands slid down, gripping my thighs, and the world tilted. My back hit the wet ground, and then he was everywhere—his weight pressing me down, his heat seeping into my bones. More shadows poured from me, seeking him, needing him.

He broke away, breathing hard. Raindrops clung to his lashes as he stared down at me, his golden eyes molten. His fingers threaded through my soaked hair, and something in his gaze made my heart stutter. Like I was both salvation and damnation. Like I was everything.

Darkness crept into my vision as our shadows merged, dancing beneath our skin. Every touch sparked something deeper. Every brush of his fingers left trails of fire. The pleasure of it was devastating—this giving and taking, this sharing of darkness. I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.

His mouth found my neck, tongue tracing paths that burned despite the cold rain. Another wave of shadows passed between us and I moaned, the sound raw and desperate. His answering groan vibrated against my throat as his teeth grazed my skin.

My head fell back, eyes fluttering as pleasure threatened to consume me. Through the rain, through the haze of desire, my eyes widened .

And my heart stopped.

Fear crystallized in my veins, sharp and sudden as a blade. There, through the storm—a ship. The Sídhe crest billowed on its sails.

And it was heading straight for us.