Now the bond pulsed beneath his ribs like a second heartbeat. Her dreams called to him without effort. Her thoughts stirred like mist through a web he’d spun from silver lies and desperate questions. He had woven himself into her. And he was beginning to feel the cost.
His jaw tightened.
Dream meddling wasn’t like other magic. It left marks. Scars in the soul if you weren’t careful. Too much, and the boundaries blurred. Alarik had walked through the minds of kings and children —warriors and madmen. He had never lingered too long. Until now.
Maris was different.
Not just because she was beautiful. Not because she intrigued him with her defiance or that glittering starburst magic.
But because her dreams were not entirely her own.
They were shared.
Something else had touched her. Someone.
Something old and god-born.
Alarik’s smile faded.
“I can’t reach her into her thoughts tonight,” he said softly.
Zairon glanced over, eyes sharp. “Has Kael found a way to block you?”
“No.” Alarik’s brow furrowed. “She’s afraid.”
He could feel it.
Panic curled at the edge of her consciousness, an animal cornered in the dark. Her magic sparked and screamed. Her pulse ran wild.
She had seen something. Felt something.
A war was coming. But it wasn’t just steel and blood that would decide the victor.
It was what she became.
“What are you thinking?” Zairon asked, tone guarded.
Alarik stared into the fire.
“She’s not ready,” he said. “But if I wait too long…”
“You’ll lose her.”
“I’ll lose more than that.”
The bond thrummed again, like the strike of a bell across kingdoms.
He stood, white-blonde hair glinting in the firelight, and moved to the window that faced north. Toward her.
Maris.
The girl he was meant to ruin. The girl he couldn’t stop thinking about.
He had only ever meant to toy with her. To guide her gently, bend her just enough to reveal what slept inside her. The Veil Breaker. The gods’ last thread of mercy or perhaps their undoing. Encourage her to come to his side over Kaels.
But now… her dreams felt tight with fear. She was shaking in her sleep. He could feel her, like a tether drawn taut, fraying at the edge of something dangerous. Something final.
And Kael — Alarik closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
