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??Live Wires & Shadowed Truths

Dorian

She didn’t have to say it.

The moment I stepped into that room, her studio, her sanctuary, her stage, I saw it in her eyes. The shift. The surrender. The slow-burning trust that had been clawing its way up through her fear like a flame starving for oxygen.

She didn’t push me away.

She let me in.

And now, I had no intention of ever leaving her side. Not for the dreams. Not for the monsters. Not even for the secrets she was too afraid to ask me about.

I stayed with her long after the show ended. Not saying much. Just standing close. Her presence did something to me, settled my demons just enough to make me feel human. But not so much that I forgot who I was.

She mattered now. She always had. And I was done pretending she was a detour. She's the destination.

“Come on,” I said, breaking the silence. “There’s something I want you to see.”

She watched me warily, but there’s no resistance. Just cautious curiosity. I took her hand, warm, hesitant, and guided her out of the studio, down the hall, into a part of the house she hadn’t seen yet.

The study .

But not the one with books and brandy and dark oak paneling. The other one. Hidden behind a warded door that recognized only my blood.

The room glowed with low silver light as we entered. The walls pulsed with protection runes. Shelves were filled with black tomes, faded journals, and sealed, glass cases filled with relics, some ancient, some stolen, some humming with locked-away power.

Ember stepped in slowly, her breath catching. “What is this place?”

“This,” I murmured, “is what I use when I stop pretending the world isn’t ending.”

She turned slowly, taking it all in. “Is all of this about the Veil?”

“Yes. And Watchers, Seekers, Vampires, all paranormal beings. And what’s coming next.”

She ran her fingers along the spine of a book without opening it. Her touch was light, but even that made the glyphs on the cover shimmer faintly.

“Why show me this now?”

“Because I meant what I said. You’re not doing this alone.”

I walked to the far cabinet, pulling open a drawer. Inside was a thin file, marked with a black wax seal, stamped in a rune that hadn’t been used in over a century. Her mother’s name was scrawled across the top in a hand I remembered from a time I’d rather forget.

I handed it to Ember.

She looked at it like it might bite. “What is this?”

“Your mother’s last assignment. As a Watcher.”

Her hands trembled as she took it, and I fought every instinct I had to pull her into my arms again. But I let her open it herself.

Inside were photographs, burnt, faded, but still visible. A body carved up. Eyes gouged out. A symbol scrawled in blood near the chest cavity.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Kreed?”

“Yes,” I said. “He didn’t start with you. And he didn’t stop with her.”

She swallowed hard. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was waiting for you to be ready to want the truth,” I said quietly. “Not just survive it.”

Her silence said more than words could. But then she looked up at me, shoulders squared, eyes sharp. “Then let’s find him. Together.”

A slow, dark smile spread across my lips. Not because of the hunt. But because of her.

“Yes, Little Thief . Together.”

Later that night, she fell asleep beside me again. And this time, she didn’t drift to the other side of the bed.

She stayed close. One leg tangled over mine. Her face nestled against my throat.

And as I watched her sleep, beautiful and terrible in her magic, I felt it again. That pull. That purpose.

She was never just someone to protect. She’s the weapon fate buried in fire and tried to forget.

And now that she was mine… We were going to burn this world clean.