Page 17

Torric

I push off the railing, exhaling sharply. I shouldn’t leave him alone like this, not when he’s spiraling, but I don’t know how to pull him out of it this time. And I don’t think I can do it alone.

I take the stairs two at a time, my mind racing.

Malrik. Out of everyone, he’s the only one who might be able to cut through Aspen’s walls.

They don’t always get along, but Malrik sees things the rest of us don’t.

He understands Kaia in ways I don’t even want to think about, and Aspen is losing himself because of her. Because of what we’ve become.

I find him near the sanctuary’s entrance, his silver eyes distant as he stares toward Kaia’s room. Even now, with everything going on, she’s still on his mind—I see it in the way his fingers twitch, restless. His gaze flicks to me the second I step into the room.

“Something wrong?”

“It’s Aspen,” I say, hesitating just long enough for Malrik’s expression to sharpen. “He’s… not handling things well.”

Malrik doesn’t blink. “You mean he’s falling apart.”

I grit my teeth. “Yeah. ”

He exhales slowly, standing. “Where is he?”

“Upstairs. He—” I hesitate, rubbing a hand over my face. “He thinks he’s a monster.”

Malrik’s expression doesn’t change, but I see the flicker of something behind his eyes. Understanding.

“Of course he does,” he mutters. “Because he is.”

I stiffen, but before I can snap at him, he shakes his head. “Not in the way you think, Torric. Not in the way he thinks.” His silver gaze sharpens. “We’re all monsters in our own way. What matters is what we do with it.”

I huff out a breath, tension still coiling in my chest. “You gonna tell him that?”

Malrik smirks, but it’s sharp, edged in something dark. “I’ll make him listen.”

I almost feel sorry for Aspen. Almost.

We move through the halls in silence, the shadows flickering against the stone walls. I keep my gaze ahead, focused on the path toward the balcony, but Malrik doesn’t let it go.

“You think this is just about Aspen?”

I exhale sharply. “He’s the one who’s losing it.”

Malrik hums like he’s unconvinced. “And you’re not?”

I cut him a glare. “I’m fine.”

His silver eyes flick toward me, unimpressed, cutting straight through the lie. “Sure you are.”

I roll my shoulders, tension creeping up my spine. “Aspen’s the one who won’t talk to anyone. He’s the one pulling away. ”

“And what are you doing, Torric?” Malrik’s voice is too even, too measured. “You think you’re handling this better just because you’re not standing on a balcony, looking like you might snap in half?”

My jaw tightens. “This isn’t about me.”

He scoffs. “If you say so.”

I grit my teeth, shoving a hand through my hair. “I didn’t come find you for a therapy session, Malrik.”

“No,” he says, stopping at the base of the stairs. “You came to find me because Aspen is feeling the exact same thing you are. And you’re too damn stubborn to admit it.”

The words hit like a gut punch, and I hate that he’s right. The ache in my chest hasn’t let up since the moment Kaia collapsed. It’s only gotten stronger, worse, like something is missing. Like something is breaking inside me, piece by piece.

Malrik watches me for a long moment. “You know why that is, don’t you?”

I shake my head, pushing past him. “We’re wasting time.”

Malrik doesn’t follow immediately. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, but no less certain.

“This isn’t just about Aspen, Torric.”

I don’t answer, because I don’t want to hear it. Aspen is the one breaking. And I don’t know how to stop it.

I find him on the balcony, gripping the railing like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His knuckles are white, his breath controlled too carefully.

“She’s not yours, you know. ”

Malrik’s voice is casual, but Aspen goes rigid. I feel it too, something sharp and defensive twisting in my gut.

Aspen exhales slowly. “I know.”

Malrik steps closer. “Do you?”

Aspen doesn’t answer.

Malrik doesn’t let it go. “You think you’ve lost her.”

Aspen laughs, but it’s empty. “Haven’t I?”

And damn it, that question does something to me. Because it’s not just Aspen who feels it. It’s me. Every time Kaia’s shadows curl toward someone else first. Every time she hesitates before meeting my gaze. Every time I think about the moment she collapsed and I wasn’t fast enough.

It’s been clawing at me since that night in the corrupted forest. Since the berserker inside us awakened and we let the monsters out.

I thought whatever this was between us would snap into place after that, that it would settle the ache I’ve felt since the moment I met her. But it hasn’t. It’s only gotten worse.

Malrik leans against the railing, his silver eyes unreadable. “You felt it the second she went down, didn’t you?” His voice is quieter now, sharper. “Like something inside you broke.”

I don’t breathe. Because yes. I did.

Aspen swallows. His voice is rough when he finally speaks. “What are you saying?”

Malrik glances between us. “You both feel the connection to her. But it’s incomplete.”

A cold weight settles in my chest.

Aspen tenses beside me. “What do you mean? ”

Malrik exhales, shaking his head. “You think this is just about Kaia? That it’s just her fate being decided?” He levels us both with a look. “You felt it. You both did.”

Neither of us answer. We don’t have to.

Malrik nods like he already knew. “The ache in your chest? The pull that’s only getting stronger? It’s not just in your head.” His gaze sharpens. “It’s a bond. An ancient one.”

I stiffen.

Aspen swears under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

Malrik keeps going. “She doesn’t just need one of us. She needs all of us.”

A flicker of movement catches my eye, Walter, that strange shadow who’s been following Kaia, drifts between us like smoke.

He pauses, bobbing in the air as if considering something, before splitting into multiple copies of himself.

Each shadow-Walter hovers near one of us before merging back together with what feels suspiciously like satisfaction.

Malrik’s words about needing all of us, combined with Walter’s perfect demonstration of many becoming one, hit me like a punch to the gut. The shadow is literally showing us what Malrik just explained, multiple bonds forming into something greater.

And suddenly, everything clicks.

The ache.

The pull.

The thing that never settled.

Kaia isn’t just ours.

We are hers.