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. Butconvince 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.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
