Heat blooms beneath my skin at the admission.
“Okay,” I say, voice steady even as my pulse betrays me. “I promise.”
My skin still tingles with the effect I have on him.
And when he’s cured—when this is over—I fully intend to jump his fucking bones.
***
We slip through the portal into my dorm room, moving quietly so as not to wake Nala. I retrieve the Soldark from its hidden place, clutching it tight before reopening the portal to the archives office.
Ryder drops into the large burgundy chair with a weary exhale as I set the Soldark down on the desk between us. My fingers itch with the urge to touch him—to mark his skin, to pull him close and pretend the danger doesn’t exist.
But my selfish desire could be my own undoing. So I keep my hands to myself.
“This is the riddle I was telling you about.”
The words still haunt the page, stirring to life at my touch, their ink shifting and breathing.
Ryder scans it in silence. I watch him instead, hope clinging to the edges of my vision.
“Is this really the only lead you have?” he asks at last, exhaling deeply. “It could mean anything.” He lets out a bitter scoff and sets the book back on the desk. “I might as well kiss the chance of ever touching you again goodbye.”
The words hit harder than I expect.
I grit my teeth, frustration flaring hot in my chest. The thought of his hands never gracing my skin again is enough to make my knees weaken. And suddenly I hate the Soldark—the way Ryder’s fingers traced its pages without consequence. It mocked me once with riddles; now it taunts me with envy.
“For fuck’s sake!” The words rip out of me, sharper than intended.
I lock my gaze on the page, bitterness simmering beneath the surface. Drawing in a slow, steady breath, I force my mind to calm.
“You really have no clue?” I ask, clinging to hope that even a single word might spark something—anything—in his mind.
“What do I look like to you—a fucking poet?” He smirks, and my eyes narrow, blood boiling beneath my skin if only he could see it. “Sorry. No, I don’t know… but I know someone who might,” he adds, clearly aware of how his words make me tense. “But I’d have to take a visit to the Shadow Realm.”
The sentence makes me gasp, though I force it back. It’s as if a disease rides the tip of his tongue, infecting me with dread.
The Shadow Realm isn’t just a place—it’s a warning. A curse Sun parents whisper to frighten their children into obedience. Darkness reigns there, untouched by light. The ground is cold, unyielding, and Moons roam by their own brutal laws. Corruption seeps through everything, and even the air feels alive with menace.
Hearing Ryder speak of it like a joke twists my stomach. Danger drips from every syllable, and yet… he makes it sound almost tempting.
No Sun has ever dared set foot in that place.
And if they have… they never came out.
“Well, I’m coming with you.” The words slip out before reason—or fear—can intervene, before a tremble can claim my lips.
“Over my dead body.” Ryder’s voice booms across the stone walls of the archives, firm and unyeilding.
“The Shadow Realm is dangerous. I have to go with you.” I look up at him, worry threading my gaze. The thought of that place haunted my nights as a child, yet here I am, volunteering to plunge blindly into its depths. But I won’t let him go alone.
“Dangerous for people likeyou, maybe.” His eyes rake me from head to toe, and my worry twists into offence.
“People like me?” I narrow my eyes. Did he forget that the same shadows clinging to his palms cling to mine as well?
“Let’s face it, Asha. You may be Star, but you were raised a Sun. Out there, they’ll eat you alive.” He steps closer, hand lifting reflexively toward my cheek—but he hesitates, pulling back at the last moment. The empty space burns, and my lungs empty with frustration.
“I can handle myself,” I say firmly, feeling his breath brush mine—so close, yet painfully far.
