hadn't bothered changing, and instead had gone through the opposite door leading to Leon's rooms. The wall around our bond had been down the moment Blake's shadows vanished, and I left nothing hidden. Not a word, not an emotion.

I couldn't do that to him, not again.

I was still trembling as I went in, not bothering with looking around. I found him in the bedroom, sitting at the edge of the footboard, a small paper in hand, yellow stains smearing its edges. Blake's drawing.

He remained silent as I went in and rested against the doorframe, arms around myself. Still trembling. My bones felt cold, my legs numb.

He didn't say a word, didn't make any attempt to do so.

I couldn't remember for how long we remained like this, me standing at the door, him seated on the edge of the bed, staring at each other.

I waited for him to say something, to yell, to set something on fire. Begged for him to do so with each breath.

He didn't.

I'd seen this face before, the cold, unbothered eyes, the calm, waiting face. I'd seen it so many times during work, at courts, in meetings. I'd never thought I'd see it when we were alone. Never thought I would be at the other end of that voided stare.

Say something.

There was no strength in my legs to carry me to the end of the room. And I didn't know how to speak, how to look him in the eye when Blake's scent wafted from me with every movement. I'd let him see what happened—all of it. A bare truth.

I was tired of lying, of hiding.

Say something. Please.

Leon put the paper aside, not offering it another glance, his eyes not slipping from my face.

The silence pressed on my chest, on my lungs, stealing every breath. I couldn't take it anymore, couldn't take the distance between us. Couldn't take the quietness anymore.

"You're angry.'' So small—my voice was so, so small.

Not even a blink. "I am not.''

He was—I tasted it in my mouth. In my soul. Not because of the mere fact that I didn't kill Blake, but for what laid behind it. The reluctance, the memories, the emotions. I didn't tell him about them, kept them a secret. He'd taken an oath, he'd chosen death than to live without me. I kept secrets from him.

Say something.

"I…''Gods, I felt so cold. So small. I felt like I was losing him, like he was slowly slipping away. ''I tried killing him. I really did.''

"I know."

I still didn't meet his eyes. Didn't have enough dignity. He did nothing, said nothing to make me feel so low, but the guilt—it tore me in halves.

"Did I do something, along the road, to lose you? Did I—''

"No…'' I couldn't endure the burning atop my throat, the heavy weight on my nose, my eyes, the burning hotness slipping down my face. Gods—gods. Blaming himself…I wondered if he could feel how hard my heart broke, wondered if he could hear it.

My legs wobbled the distance between the door and the bed, and each step, each breath was labored. I hurt him. I hurt him so many times.

He made to stop me, but I had been on my knees in front of him before he could. Didn't budge even as he tried to get me up. He never allowed me to kneel in front of him, never would, and not because of the titles I bore.

"I love you, Leon.'' I took his hands in mines, clasped them hard. Pulled them to my mouth despite the slight tensing. I kissed them again and again, palms and fingertips. Again and again. "With every piece of me.''

His hands closed around mine harder, so hard it almost hurt."So what happened then? Why does it feel like I'm losing you?"

The cuffs hugging his wrists became soaked with my tears. "You're not losing me, Leon.'' I leaned forward, forehead pressing against his arm, just over his lap. "You're not losing me.''

I hurt him again.

For a moment, he added nothing, did nothing. For a moment, it felt like I was the one losing him. And then he pulled his hands away.

It was that one heartbeat, that one instant. That second of clean terror. Of pain. I couldn't retain any of my tears when he'd pulled my head to his lap, when my forehead fell on his thigh, when his fingers went through my hair.

I cried so much it hurt. I cried so much it felt like my back and throat were turning into wood. I cried so much it felt my body was about to dry up. I cried out the guilt, the fear, the tiredness, the frustrations. All of it.

His fingers remained in my hair, running over the scratch in my scalp from earlier, back in the Sombers. I had entirely forgotten about it.

"I love you, Leon.''

He pulled me up and I didn't protest. Didn't really have the effort. I found myself tucked beneath his chin, swallowed with his warmth. His mouth brushed my temple, my ear. "And I love you, darling.''

I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve all that love.

"You cared for him.''

It wasn't quite a question but I still nodded.

"Do you still feel that way?"

"I hate him for what he did. I hate him for all of it. But—''

I didn't find the words to finish it. Didn't know how to without causing damage, without…

"But you don't hate him for him.''

"No."

Another wave of silence crept in between us and the fingers in my hair idled, leaving my skin tingling for more. For him.

"Do you really believe he's still in there?"

My silence was enough answer.

I still waited for him to burn the place down, to let the words in his mind out, to yell, to do something. It wasn't like him, all that coldness. It wasn't like the man I loved.

"I hated it whenever you were close to him. I hated it whenever he called you to his rooms, having you a step away while I spent nights without you. I hated it when he would lean so close to you he could kiss you. I hated every single moment of it.''

''I know.'' I held the hand he'd rested over my knee, held so tight my knuckles turned white.

"But I never felt the need to kill him with my bare hands. I never felt that blind urge to push him away like when it happens when any other man looks you up and down.''

My back straightened then, my eyes barely able to make out of his features through the blurriness. But the words echoing in his mind—in my mind—the absurdity of them…

"What if you have more than just one mate?"

My world spun with how hard I shook my head. The absurdity, the senselessness, the—"That's impossible. It never happened before, it was never thought off before.''

"You didn't happen before, either. It makes sense, somehow.'' His head lowered, and I met his eyes then. Met the hollowness, the void in them. The crushing pain that he wasn't the only one. "A mate for every piece of your symbol.''

The symbol that I couldn't share, that I couldn't give a part to him. That bit to tell the whole world that he was mine and I was his.

"No.'' Absolutely not. "It's you Leon, always had been, always will be. No one else.''

"And what if—"

"There are no what ifs.'' I pulled myself a bit more up, both hands cupping his face, holding him like he was the only anchor in the world. "I chose you once, Leon. And I will choose you every time. In every life, in every day. You, only you, even if it costs me war with every single god known to this world.''

His forehead pressed against mine, and it was then that I realized how much I missed the intimacy. How much I missed and craved the contact, the closeness. How much I missed feeling like I was home.

He wrapped an arm around my waist while his other hand tucked the strand that fell over my eyes aside.

"What about we leave this matter for after we get out of here?"

I stroked his cheeks with my thumbs. "I would love that.''

His mouth brushed my cheek, the corner of my mouth—

I pushed him away so hard the arm around me couldn't hold me in place. So hard I fell on the floor, tumbling to get on my knees and elbows. The horror, the flashing shock and pain, they smelled so heavy in that moment I pushed him away. And then they became clean terror as I vomited on the floor.

Vomit and blood. Stark, crimson blood. So much of it.

Leon's hands didn't reach me fast enough before my head hit ground.

Red was the only thing I saw before the world faded from my eyes.

The cradle was a beautiful masterpiece. A glorious structure forged, like the rest of the cave, with endless, glowing crystals with more colors than the ones known to the worlds.

It was glowing. Radiating. It looked as though it had been woven with dreams, as though it held the universe as it grew. Such a beautiful thing.

The only shame was its emptiness. Its coldness.

So cold—it had been so cold despite its warmth that my fingertips turned red and numb.

It didn't hum either like the rest of this unknown world. Didn't sing like the running lights. So beautiful, so bright, so inviting…but dead. Hollow.

I'd never seen such a thing, never read about it, not even in the Book of Astazan. I wondered if it was even real outside the confines of this dream. Of this serene, joyous place.

Lights of many colors were rendered crystals forming the entirety of the place. No dirt, no stones, nothing but crystals and gems melted together. The ground beneath my feet shifted with every movement, auroras swaying, dancing with the twinkling stars. Such endless stars—not a moon, not a cloud. Nothing but stars, eight of them shining with might, dancing to the hums of the lights.

I was left breathless.

The air was filled with the same calming magic that made the night sky dotted with stars that held me during the trial. When Leon and I had sealed our oaths. And perhaps that glorious night beneath my feet was the same one, perhaps these two places were truly one greater picture.

The faint singing was inviting, captivating, mesmerizing. It filled my head, my blood. My soul. It owned me, it made me sway along the tune it whispered. It had been so long since I so joyfully danced. Since I felt so calm, so…real. Not trapped in a skin that wasn't mine, not moving with threats above my neck.

And so I followed that siren's song, that angel's ode. Followed it and danced. Swayed and twirled until it felt like it held me, like it danced with me.

I was still dancing as I went down an endless looking-like corridor, hair floating and fingers caressing the warm, throbbing surface of the crystals, lights birthing at the contact. The singing grew louder.

I felt happy, even as the numbness in my fingers spread to my hand, as my muscles wished to rest, to sit somewhere. I kept walking through the corridor, the ground warming more and more with each step. More and more and more until something burning and wet licked the sole of my right, bare foot.

Blood. Scarlet, liquid blood.

There had been only one drop, followed by two others a couple steps ahead. More and more with each step until the starry sky could no longer be seen. Until my feet burned.

The lights were still shining. The music still enticing. I couldn't run back to the cradle even when I tried.

Come.

It still pulled me, the sound becoming an addiction. A must.

Come come come.

The blood kept on adding until it soaked my ankles, until it felt like walking on hellfire.

Come.

I obeyed, no longer dancing, no longer humming along.

The end of the corridor came as a glass wall, all the lights pointing at it, guiding me toward it.

Come come come come come…

Every step was painful, every breath was excruciating.

My lungs became heavy in my chest. The scent of iron filled my nose. The lights were dimming.

My hands were shaking by the time I rested them on the wall, my entire body was shivering as I leaned against it, as I pressed my forehead on its cold surface. It gave me the same numbness the cradle did.

I couldn't break through it, couldn't shatter it. I could only stare at the fading lights reflecting on its surface, on the faint image of the glowing eyes it contained—

Glowing eyes. A face. A hand.

I knew that face. I held those hands so many countless times.

His name his name his name—

"Leon!"

I couldn't scream loud enough. I couldn't hit this barrier hard enough.

I felt it rattle as he pushed it, felt it tremble as he screamed, as he yelled.

The lights went out, and the only thing that remained was the glow of his eyes and of the symbol on my palm.

I screamed his name again, again, again, banging on the wall, scrapping it until blood came out from beneath my broken nails. There was nothing but that wall between us, nothing but that unbreakable barrier.

More blood seeped out from between the dark walls, filing up the space, burning, burning, burning—

It hurt. It chained me. It suffocated me.

The beautiful song was no more. The mellifluous voices gone, drowned beneath the pained screams. The broken cries. The weeping and grieving. So many sounds, so many voices, so many pained yells and gasps.

It rang in my ears. And the hands that had gripped the wall, that tried to remain over the reflection of Leon's fists, slipped. Loosened.

His voice became louder than the cries and the screams. Loud, so loud it vibrated though the wall, through the blood.

I was numb. I was nothing.

He was still screaming. Him, my mate and lover and husband. Still screaming.

My eyes felt heavy.

The curled fingers on my marked hand unfurled one by one, the Mark of Aether the only thing I could see. The golden Sun and silver, crescent Moon, inked with such delicacy, with such precision. I'd never wondered what they were, the small lines, small symbols actually forming it. Never wondered what they were...

My eyelids dropped heavier.

Still screaming.

Never wondered…that old, forgotten language.

Heavier.

The light coming from my mark went off.

Darkness.

The warmth of Leon's body had been the very thing I noticed when I woke up, almost jerking out of the bed from relief. Awake and breathing, lying next to me.

They were all here, the members of my court, Carter taking a chair facing my side, Mayra and Luthian pacing through the room, and Yesar and Liam who took guards, one next to the curtains-drawn window, the other roaming the room, one eye on the magically shielded ceiling. On the hissing monsters behind it. Rhiannon was here, her scent light and wafting, but nowhere to be seen.

The bed shifted and I felt the hand my husband slid beneath the heavy covers as he straightened, welcomed his fingers around mine, their warmth. His free one rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

I felt it through the bond, I saw it through the paleness of his face, the tightness of his hand, the long sigh of relief…it had been him at the other side of the wall. Not an imagination, not a wicked game of my mind. He'd seen it all, heard it all.

His hold went tighter before it let go, to let me hug Carter back, then Mayra, then Luthian, who all made sure to check me more than once. But it was Carter's face, the heavy shadows in his eyes, that made me ask, "What happened?"

My blood-bound brother pulled his chair closer, his fiancée taking seat on the edge of the bed while Luthian remained leaning near.

Carter—Dier—nodded his chin at Leon before he breathed out, "He called, I answered. Found you already tucked in bed and unconscious while he was splayed, face down on the ground.'' A breath as he ran a hand through his hair, over his temple. He sensed it, must had, the tension in the room, the heavy scent of magic, the clear sign that it wasn't a normal dream. "Had to hurl his heavy ass up to the bed.''

I smiled, more at the laugh they shared than the images that flickered in mine, the memories and the sharp rush of panic.

Carter leaned forward in his chair, elbows on thighs, that hint of a smile still there as he eyed my husband, "How your mustang hasn't crashed beneath all this weight, I have no idea.''

Mayra was the first to laugh, and we followed suit while Luthian only smiled from where he remained. It was refreshing, seeing that side of them amid all the tensions. Just like it had been this last summer. It felt like such a lifetime ago.

The door opened then clicked shut, light footsteps carrying Rhia's scent as she came, in a cup of steaming tea in hands. The cup was fast to become in her brother's hands before she pulled me into an embrace, and it had taken some quite convincing to make her sit and not bother with preparing another drink. But she did, and I realized how long it had been since we were all gathered, not a sword in hand and a pile of bodies waiting to be discharged.

A few moments of silence crept in around us, and the only sound had been the furious winds outside these walls.

Stay inside tonight, all of you.

I never believed I could enjoy silence this much, never thought I would ever beg for it when the screaming had been deafening. When it wrecked my mind, my soul.

I leaned back against the headboard, stares sliding to my husband. To my mate. "What was there, from your side of the wall?"

The Shadow took another sip of his drink before he offered me the mug, and I knew he wouldn't let me refuse it. "A cradle. And voices, so many of them." His head tipped back, and his eyes closed for a few heartbeats. "They sang at first.''

''And then they turned into screams.''

And he'd screamed with them, screamed even louder when the blood swallowed me whole. Screamed so mightily I could still feel it in my blood, could still feel the world rattling with his fists in my bones.

Leon's only response was the breath he let out.

Yesar and Liam remained silent as they listened, not quite acquainted with those dreams and visions, and I truly didn't have the explanations for any of them. Still sought it for myself.

I took a sip, the sweet liquid drowning the bitter taste beneath my tongue…vomit. I had vomited before I was out, and there been blood. So much of it. And yet when I glanced, there had been nothing. Not a smear and not a whiff of my scent.

I didn't need to ask to know that Leon had taken care of it before Carter even arrived.

The mug vanished from my hands the instant it was done and it took only one nod of the chin to get Liam and Yesar to bring their chairs. They obeyed, not a word coming out of their mouths, but their thoughts had been loud, filling the space.

We still had so much to plot, so much to do.

But the blood—crimson. We had little time left before Sorcha's spell broke.

And so I turned to my husband, mind already spinning and scheming. "What did you find in the library?"