Page 25

Chapter

Twenty-Four

The damp chill of the dungeon was as familiar as his own skin. The rough stone walls. The muted clang of distant footsteps. The lingering taste of iron in his mouth.

He’d thought Hale had killed him—that this was finally over. But Jaxon’s Healer had pulled him back from the brink, slowly and painfully knitting his flesh back together and forcing his body to recover. Her magic numbed his body, the tonic she forced down his throat softening the edges of his mind. It dulled everything—even his slow, creeping awareness of the shadows that slipped back out of the corners once she and Jaxon left. They whispered urgently, but the only thing Loren could understand was her name.

Araya. They said it over and over again, their voices rising to a frenzied pitch.

He hadn’t seen her—not in his cell, not in his dreams—since Hale had torn him from her mind. It should have been a relief. But fear tightened around his throat like a noose. He had no way to know if Hale had gotten to her too. No way to know if she was safe.

He fought the sedative, trying to stay conscious as his vision blurred and the world dulled around him. He couldn’t help her like this—but exhaustion rushed over him, dragging him under like a dark tide.

But then— fear . Not his. Hers— Araya.

Araya was terrified .

Loren’s body jerked. He was useless in the waking world, but somewhere deep in his mind—something cracked open. Shadows surged forward, rushing into the gap as he latched on to her fear, cutting a path through the numbing weight pushing down on him. It was a beacon, dragging him steadily through the chaotic, fragmented jumble of their minds.

The dreamscape was fragmented—one moment, there was nothing but darkness. The next, he felt hands on him. The sharp bite of a hard surface against soft skin, the salty taste of tears. Her fear. Her memories.

The shadows lashed outward, trying to rip through the shifting dream and pull her toward him. But the dream fought him—her fear spiking, then pulling away like a string unraveling faster than he could catch it.

Loren clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus. He had to reach her. He had to?—

The dreamscape lurched.

And then, suddenly, Araya was in his arms.

“ Ael’sura ,” he choked out, clutching her like she might disappear again. She clung to him with the same desperation, her tears soaking into his shoulder as the dream flickered and reshaped itself around them over and over again.

But Loren wasn’t watching their surroundings. He was looking at her. At the bruises blooming dark on the delicate skin of her arms. At the bleeding gash along her hairline. Her cheekbone was swollen, the skin there bruised and tender.

Someone had struck her—hard. Loren could feel the echoes of what had been done to her through the tether between them. Her helplessness. Her fear and pain .

“Who did this to you?” His voice came out rough, almost unrecognizable. “Was it Hale?”

Araya sucked in a breath, but she didn’t answer. Her pulse was too fast, her shoulders too tense as the dream twisted, dragging her back toward whatever nightmare she was reliving.

“ Araya .” Loren’s hands found her shoulders, trying to anchor her here with him. “ Who . Did . This .”

She blinked, her gaze refocusing on him as his words cut through the panic gripping her. She sucked in a trembling breath, and for a moment Loren didn’t think she was going to answer.

But then—she did.

“Jaxon.”

Loren froze.

But the shadows did not. They surged outward, snapping violently, coiling like a living storm. And for a single, terrible moment, Loren thought he might lose himself to the fury twisting inside him. Rage burned in his chest, a wildfire he had no will to contain.

It was only the shock and fear in Araya’s silver eyes that made him let her go, allowing her to step back as he fought for control. The shadows didn’t though, clinging to her like a mantle of darkness—holding her when he couldn’t.

“You said he would never hurt you,” Loren said when he could speak again, the words scraping from his throat.

“It—It was my fault,” Araya stammered. She dropped her eyes, staring down at her feet as her voice dropped. “He—I forgot my place.”

“Your place,” Loren repeated, his rage cooling, hardening into something sharper. “And where exactly is that?”

He didn’t move towards her, but the shadows didn’t have his restraint. They twined around her ankles, shifting and coiling as they dragged over her skin.

“It doesn’t matter.” Shame flickered across her face, but she pulled in a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’m more worried about you. The last time I saw you…” She trailed off, her face haunted. “Why won’t you tell Jaxon it was Hale?”

Loren’s jaw tightened so hard he felt pain shoot up his temples. The shadows abandoned her, snapping back to his side and wrapping around him like armor. She had known—and she still hadn’t come.

“If you really wanted to know how I was recovering, you could have skipped your tea one night and checked for yourself,” he bit out.

“What?” Araya faltered, confusion flashing across her face at his accusation. “I haven’t had my tea in over a week—I’ve been waiting for you. Jaxon won’t let me come in person after how I…reacted. When I found you. But I’ve been actively trying to find you in my dreams.”

How she had reacted ? Loren couldn’t let himself get distracted by that. What she was saying didn’t make any sense. It shouldn’t have been hard for them to reach each other. Not when fate itself wanted them together?—

“Serafina,” Araya said suddenly. “Your Healer. She’s the one who recommended the tea to me. I told her about the dreams. If she’s drugging you?—”

“You told Jaxon’s Healer about the dreams?” Loren hissed. “What part of don’t tell anyone was unclear?”

“The part where you have any sort of authority over me,” Araya snapped, glaring back at him. “And she isn’t Jaxon’s Healer—she’s my friend. I’m the one who begged Jaxon to let her help you, because I didn’t want you to die .”

She clenched her fists, staring at him. “She figured something out when I told her. If the two of you expect me to keep this a secret, you have to tell me why. ”

Loren stiffened, the shadows twitching around him. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Araya crossed her arms, scowling. “She said you were right and that we couldn’t talk about it there—and Jaxon hasn’t let me see her either. And now he’s convinced there’s some sort of connection between us . He’s throwing around some sort of insane theory that we’re related?—”

Loren’s stomach dropped. Even the shadows stilled, frozen in panic.

“But we’re not—” Araya’s voice faltered at his reaction. “Right?”

“We’re not related,” Loren confirmed hoarsely. “Why would he think that we are?”

Araya hesitated, but something about the look on his face must have convinced her to continue.

“We tested the first round of amulets tonight,” she said. “To see if imbuing an amulet with your blood would allow us to dispel the shadows.”

She paused, her gaze flicking past him to watch the shadows that swirled at the periphery of the dream.

“Two of them failed, but the third…” she took a deep breath. “I cut my hand—and when my blood combined with yours…the shadows responded.”

“What did they do?” Loren asked, already dreading the answer.

“They…stopped. Like they were waiting for me to do something.” Araya rubbed her injured wrist absently, tracing the bruised skin with her fingertips. “But when Jaxon took it…” Her voice dropped, hushed with fear. “He could command them.”

“He commanded them?” Loren’s pulse stumbled, then pounded. The dream quivered at the edges, alive with writhing shadows.

“With an amulet imbued with our combined blood.” Araya nodded. “That’s why he thinks we’re linked in some way. He’s convinced I’ll be able to wield them like some sort of weapon—I tried to protest, but…” she gestured toward her face. “He didn’t take that very well.”

Loren swore viciously, his shadows surging as he turned away for a moment, raking a hand through his hair. But he couldn’t stand her being out of his sight so he turned back around almost immediately, staring at her with a desperation that scared even him.

“Are you safe? ”

“He left the apartment,” Araya said, her voice quiet. “I’m alone there. For now at least.” She shivered, cradling her injured wrist against her body.

Loren tracked the motion, his shadows twisting tightly around him. “Good,” he said, but his voice cracked, the single word strained. His hands clenched at his sides, and for a moment he feared he might shatter into a thousand pieces like the dream around them.

“You have to convince him there’s no link,” Loren said, forcing the words out even as the bond screamed in his chest. “Whatever it takes—make him think it’s a dead end. Distract him—whatever you have to do. But convince him .”

“But there obviously is some sort of link—” Araya started, but Loren caught her hand in his, stopping her.

She didn’t jerk away from him. Her fingers curled around his, grounding him, anchoring him. Loren longed to keep her here. Just for a moment. Just long enough to feel something other than the weight of inevitability pressing down on him.

But that wasn’t a choice he could afford. His fingers slipped from hers. He forced himself to step back.

“You can’t come back here, ael’sura .” The words burned like acid. The bond recoiled, twisting inside him, dragging him toward her even as he fought to push her away. “You can’t see me again. Stay away from the dungeon. Drink your tea—and try to have a happy life. However you can.”

His voice broke slightly, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his stoic mask. “But if you care about surviving—you have to stay away from me.”

“If I’m in danger I deserve to know why.” Araya stepped towards him, trying to close the distance between them again. “What are you so afraid of, Loren?”

He could only smile sadly. There was nothing he could tell her. He had no answer she would accept. No truth that wouldn’t tear them both apart.

"Tell me," she pleaded, her voice breaking .

She took another step toward him, but the dream shuddered around her, the nonexistent ground under their feet lurching. Loren didn’t move to meet her this time, his shadows curling around him like a shield. He forced a smile, but it felt desperately hollow.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said softly. His voice broke slightly, but he held her gaze. “Go, ael’sura . And whatever you have to do—stay safe.”

The dream crumbled, but her silver eyes—wide with confusion and bright with heartbreak—were the last thing to fade.

And when she was gone, there was nothing.