“They’re here,” Stellan says quietly.
I look at him, standing perfectly still at the edge of our makeshift circle around Bree and Seth. His expression is calm—too calm. Like he’s bracing for something he both dreads and needs.
“You sure about this?” I ask, voice rougher than I mean it to be.
He doesn’t answer. Just watches the darkness beyond the silver flames flickering in the sconces.
Gray lifts his head from where he’s curled at Bree’s feet, ears flattening against his skull. A low growl rumbles in his chest—warning or fear, I can’t tell. Maybe both.
Wes shifts closer to Seth’s unconscious form, dark eyes tracking something. “Something’s wrong with him.”
I follow his gaze.
Seth’s chest still rises and falls in shallow breaths, but there’s something else now. Faint tendrils of black smoke seeping into his skin—so thin they’re almost invisible.
“What the hell is that?” Jace breathes.
Theo steps closer, eyes going distant the way they do when he’s Seeing. “Two energies. They’re not fighting.” He pauses, frowning. “They’re… feeding him.”
“Feeding,” I repeat flatly.
What the fuck.
Stellan kneels beside Seth, careful not to touch him. His gray eyes track the silver and black weaving through Seth’s body with clinical precision.
“He’s bonded to her,” Stellan says quietly. “The bond formed in the Void. It adapted him.” He looks up at Thane. “He’s feeding from both sources now. Her Ether and the Void itself.”
Silence.
“That’s not possible,” Thane says, but there’s uncertainty in his voice.
“It shouldn’t be.” Stellan’s gaze returns to Seth. “But the Void doesn’t follow rules. When a bond forms there, the magic changes. Adapts to survive.” He gestures at the black threading through the silver. “He’s feeding on Void energy the same way we’re feeding on her Ether.”
My stomach turns. “So he’s feeding the same way we are? From what’s already been taken?”
“Yes,” Stellan says quietly. “We’re all drinking from the ambient power soaking the air, the veins pulsing through the walls. It’s passive. Automatic.” His gaze shifts back to the black smoke seeping into Seth’s skin. “But Seth’s feeding from both—her Ether and the Void itself.”
He pauses, watching the black and silver weave through Seth’s unconscious body. “No one survives that kind of balance for long. Light and shadow don’t share a body without cost.”
The hoofbeats grow louder. Closer.
The silver veins pulsing through the floor flare brighter, and I feel the temperature drop—sharp enough to make my breath fog.
Gray’s growl intensifies. He’s on his feet now, hackles raised, positioning himself between Bree and whatever’s coming.
“Easy,” I murmur, but my hands are already heating, blue flames dancing across my palms.
My eyes find the chamber entrance—the threshold we crossed to get here. We walked right into his space. His territory.
The thought comes slower than it should. A year of exhaustion catching up all at once.
“Is no one worried about this?” I ask, voice tight. “We’re in his chamber. What happens when he comes back?”
Stellan doesn’t look up from Seth’s unconscious form. “He knew we were here the moment we stepped through the threshold.” His voice is flat, matter-of-fact. “He would have been here already if he was coming.”
The words should be reassuring.
They’re not.
