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I deepen the kiss, fingers tightening in her hair, my restraint, the control I've built my existence upon, shattering completely as she sinks into me with unexpected surrender. A low sound escapes her throat, half-gasp and half-moan, and it's like something detonates.

The shadows in the room surge in response to emotions I've denied for too long.

They curl around us like living smoke, thick, alive, protective and possessive all at once.

An extension of hunger I can no longer contain.

They dance across her skin where my hands don't touch, tracing patterns that mirror the desire pulsing through the bond, leaving trails of cool darkness against her warmth.

Silver light blooms beneath her skin in response, not fighting my darkness as opposing forces should, but meeting it as an equal.

Where shadow touches, light answers. The two powers intertwine like lovers embracing, creating intricate patterns across her skin and mine—silver threads through black tapestry, darkness cradling light.

Her palm skims my jaw, her touch featherlight, tentative, exploring ground never before surrendered. Then firmer, more certain. Fingers push into my hair, pulling me down into her, deepening the kiss with the same hunger burning through me. The same need for connection after too long in isolation.

Time shatters.

There is no war. No prophecy. No looming battles against the Authority. No Veinwardens looking to me for salvation and strategy. No past filled with blood and shadow. No uncertain future.

Only the pull between us. Stronger than gravity. Stronger than reason. Stronger than all the barriers I constructed to keep the world, to keep her , at the distance necessary for survival.

The line between us blurs, the boundary between selves dissolving until there is nothing left but the perfect agony of connection. Something primal and powerful, beyond magic, beyond understanding.

I'm drowning in her.

And I don't care.

I should pull back. The tactician in me, the survivor, knows this is dangerous, unpredictable, a complication that could unravel carefully laid plans.

I can't.

Time is unraveling, the world falling away. Thought is becoming a pure sensation. We are collapsing into each other in ways I never allowed before, never believed possible.

Her body presses even closer, melting against mine, seeking more of whatever is happening between us.

I groan against her lips, a sound torn from depths I thought long buried.

My restraint is fraying, control slipping away entirely as the shadows respond, drawing tighter around us, creating a world apart. ..

And then …

The connection implodes without warning. The shadows retreat with violent suddenness. The link snaps like a thread pulled beyond endurance .

The world rushes back in—cold, harsh, separate—and we break apart, staggering as if struck. Breathless . Disoriented by the abrupt severance.

She stares up at me, the silver in her eyes burning brighter against her dilated pupils.

Her breathing is quick and uneven, lips slightly parted and reddened from our kiss, cheeks flushed with color.

Her hand trembles where it hovers between us, as if she still feels the echo .

.. as if part of her is still in it, still connected.

“I …” She shakes her head, pressing fingers to her lips. “I don’t know why I did that.”

I exhale, ragged and sharp.

“When you touched my raven.” It takes effort to speak. To breathe . To stand separate from her. “It triggered a bond. Something unstable. Temporary.”

She touches her lips briefly, eyes searching mine for answers I can’t give her.

“Was that real? Or just some ... magical effect?” Vulnerability threads through her question—the fear that what felt genuine was merely an illusion, a trick of power and proximity.

“The connection was real.” I choose my words carefully, still grappling with what just happened between us. What it means for everything I've planned.

“That's not an answer.”

“Yes, it was real.” The truth serves better than evasion after walls between us have been so thoroughly breached. “Intensified by the shadows, but not created by it. ”

She studies me, eyes narrowing slightly as she searches for deception, for the manipulation she's come to expect.

“Is this part of your plan too?”

“No.” Stripped of my usual defenses I can’t lie. “This was not anticipated.” In all my careful mapping of possible futures, this connection, this vulnerability , was never something I could have foreseen.

A smile breaks across her lips—unexpected, disarming me more effectively than any weapon.

“Good to know there are things that can surprise the strategic mastermind.” The teasing holds a newfound intimacy that should concern me more than it does.

Her smile fades, and she steps back, reestablishing physical distance.

“I think I should … maybe we need to … It’s late. I think I should go to bed.”

Years of discipline take over, locking down the fire still burning inside, sealing off the hunger still running through my veins. I draw a breath. Force it even. Anchor myself to necessity.

“We begin your training at dawn.” Focus returns gradually. “Understanding your abilities is essential, both for control and for determining how they might connect to your return.” The word catches in my throat. It carries new implications I'm not prepared to examine.

“My return,” she repeats softly. “Yes.”

She moves toward her chamber door, pausing with her hand on the latch, silhouetted against the darker wood. The silver light beneath her skin hasn't fully faded, tracing delicate patterns along her wrists and throat. For a moment, she stands there.

“Goodnight, Sacha.” My name in her voice carries weight it never did before.

“Goodnight, Ellie.” I allow her name the same weight in return.

The door closes behind her. I remain where I stand, my mind trying to make sense of what just happened—trying to reassemble my shattered pieces into something I can understand, can use, can control.

The shadow connection created something I haven't experienced before. A merging of awareness that broke through barriers. Ones that should never have been lowered. A vulnerability I've spent most of my life ensuring no one could exploit. Yet with her, it felt like strength instead of weakness.

The physical sensations remain with me. The softness of her lips, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the silken texture of her hair between my fingers. More dangerous are the emotional echoes.

Desire I thought long buried, vulnerability I can't afford. Connection I never allowed myself to seek.

My attention moves to the table where maps await my consideration, plans that should command my full focus. I’m expected to resume my leadership. To step back into the role I once commanded. To be the weapon they thought would never be available to them again.

Yet my thoughts return to that moment of shared consciousness, to the kiss that followed, the way her soul tangled with mine. The way silver met shadow, weaving patterns that shouldn't exist. Patterns that echo fragments of the Veinbound Prophecy they whisper about.

Two forces never meant to meet shall intertwine.

Their union defies the pattern of ages past.

Something has changed. Not just between us, but within the very fabric of what I believe possible. The path I've calculated so carefully now blurs. New variables demand reassessment of everything I thought I understood.

About my purpose. My power. My future. And now prophecy itself.

The Veinwardens need a weapon and a leader. Meridian needs the Vareth’el .

But for the first time in my life, I want something beyond duty and vengeance.

For the first time since the Authority made their move that shattered Meridian, the future holds more than strategy and sacrifice.

It holds her .

Unpredictable. Powerful. Impossible to ignore, like the silver light beneath her skin that calls to the shadow in mine.