She’s still breathing. Still alive.
But barely.
And I can’t do anything to stop it.
I need to leave. Need to get out of here before Ethos returns and finds me with her.
But I can’t make myself let go of her hand.
The thread between us pulls tight, humming with something I don’t understand.
I force myself to release her fingers, and the loss feels like tearing something vital.
The Ether clings to me for one more moment before reluctantly retreating back to her.
Like it doesn’t want to let me go either.
I push to my feet, legs unsteady, and back away from the cushions.
Every instinct screams at me to stay. To protect her. To do something.
But I’m powerless here. Insignificant. If Ethos finds me, I’m dead.
Or worse.
I take one last look at her—naked and vulnerable and so beautiful it makes my chest ache—and commit every detail to memory.
The way her hair falls across the velvet. The rise and fall of her chest. The faint glow of corrupted Ether still drifting around her like a shroud.
“I’ll find you,” I whisper again, even though she can’t hear me anymore.
Then I turn and run.
The chamber melts back into Void as I flee, darkness swallowing the stone walls and silver fire. But the thread stays intact, pulling tight across the distance.
She’s still there. Still connected.
Still mine, somehow.
I don’t stop running until the chamber is far behind me and the oppressive emptiness of the Void closes in again.
Only then do I let myself collapse, gasping, shaking, every nerve still singing with the aftershock of her touch.
The thread hums faintly in my chest.
A compass.
A promise.
A way to find her again.
However long it takes.
Chapter 27
Bree
I wake hollow.
