3. Lirien
3
LIRIEN
I push my way through the thick undergrowth, branches catching at my robes. Every step forward feels heavier than the last. The weight of Darak's stare burns into my back, and my cheek still tingles where his fingers gripped my jaw last night.
Reaching up, I gather my hair, twisting it away from my neck. The silver ribbon slides through my fingers as I secure it, but my hands shake slightly. That moment by the tree replays in my mind—the heat of his palm, the intensity in those crimson eyes, the way his gaze dropped to my mouth. The bond pulses between us, stronger than it should be this early. Each beat matches my quickening heart.
The forest grows denser, shadows deepening unnaturally. Branches twist overhead, blocking out more light with each step. The air grows thick, almost syrupy.
"Stop." Darak's command cuts through the heavy silence. "What game are you playing? The sun's still high—this darkness isn't natural."
I turn to face him, careful to keep my expression neutral despite the flutter in my stomach. "Very observant."
"Don't patronize me. Answer the question."
"We're entering Kanturak." I gesture to the darkening woods. "It's a cursed forest."
His hand tightens on his sword hilt. "And why exactly are we entering somewhere that is cursed?"
I turn around, fixing him with a glare. "Do you want to get rid of this bond or not?"
But something aches as I say the words.
His silence weighs heavier than any curse. I push forward, leaves crunching beneath my feet, trying to ignore the void where his response should be. The bond thrums between us, a constant reminder of his presence—and his distrust.
My arms wrap around my middle, fighting off the creeping cold that has nothing to do with the forest's unnatural darkness. Each step feels like walking through molasses, the air thick with ancient magic that sets my teeth on edge.
A shadow darts across the path—too fast, too fluid to be natural. I stumble backward, colliding with solid leather armor. My breath catches as Darak's warmth seeps through my robes, his chest rising and falling against my back.
"Don't move," he whispers, his breath stirring my hair.
My heart pounds against my ribs, and I'm not sure if it's from the creature or his proximity. His hand grips my shoulder, steadying me, and for a moment, I let myself lean into his touch.
The bonded sensation intensifies, stronger now with the contact, and I sense his confusion mingling with my own longing. Electric tingles race across my skin where we touch, a sensation both foreign and achingly familiar. He releases me as if burned, and the loss of his touch stings more than it should, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.
"What was that?" His voice is tight, controlled, but I catch the slight tremor beneath his usual stoic tone. His crimson eyes narrow as they scan the shadows, one hand already resting on the hilt of his curved blade.
I swallow hard, trying to focus on the threat rather than the lingering warmth where his hand had been. "Nothing good." The words come out rougher than intended, betraying my unsteady nerves.
I draw in a shaky breath, scanning the twisted branches above. Shadows dance between the leaves, and I can't tell which are natural and which might conceal something more sinister.
One foot in front of the other. Just keep moving. The mantra echoes in my mind, grounding me despite the chaos of my thoughts.
A dark shape streaks across the path—closer this time. The shadows seem to bend around it, distorting like smoke in water. My scream catches in my throat as I whirl around, crashing straight into Darak's chest. His arms wrap around me instinctively, and I press my face into the worn leather of his armor. The scent of pine and steel surrounds me, and for a heartbeat, I forget to be afraid.
The bond flares between us, bright and warm, before he shifts his stance. In one fluid motion, he pushes me behind him, his curved blade singing as it leaves its sheath. The metal gleams despite the darkness, those ancient elven runes catching what little light filters through the canopy.
"Did you get a good look at it?" The doubt in his voice makes me bristle.
"I'm not imagining things." My fingers curl into the back of his armor. "It's moving too fast, but it's big. And the shadows... they're wrong around it."
"Wrong how?" His shoulders tense as another rustle sounds to our left.
"They bend. Like they're being pulled." I peer around his arm, trying to track the creature's movement. "I've never seen anything affect darkness that way. Not even my magic."
"That's because shadow manipulation is precise. This is..." He trails off as leaves crunch behind us. "Hungry."
The word sends ice down my spine, and I press closer to his back. The bond hums with shared tension.
The shadows part like a curtain, and my breath catches in my throat. The creature emerges—massive, its body a writhing mass of darkness that seems to absorb what little light remains. Limbs stretch and twist impossibly, ending in curved claws that leave deep gouges in the earth.
Darak moves like liquid shadow himself, his blade singing through the air. The creature's claws whistle past his head as he ducks and weaves. His sword finds flesh—or what passes for it—but the wound seals instantly, darkness flowing back together like oil.
"Quite the welcoming party you've brought us to," he grunts, rolling beneath another vicious swipe that whistles through the air where his head had been. His blade flashes again in the dim light, catching the creature's foreleg with a sound like metal striking frozen water. "Any helpful insights, demon?"
I back against a tree, feeling the rough bark dig into my spine as my fingers tremble with the effort of reaching for my magic. The power feels slippery, hard to grasp in the face of such overwhelming darkness. "Working on it."
He pivots with preternatural grace, but not quite fast enough. The creature's claws rake across his leather armor with devastating force, and the screech of torn material fills the air like a dying animal's cry. A flash of pain echoes through our bond.
"Work faster ."
My heart pounds as Darak launches himself forward, his sword a blur of motion. The creature howls—a sound that vibrates in my bones—but doesn't slow. Each strike seems to pass through it like water, leaving no lasting damage.
"This isn't working!" Darak's voice strains with effort.
The bond weighs with his exhaustion, his growing desperation. I close my eyes, reaching deep inside where my magic coils like a serpent. The power burns as I grab hold, yanking it upward. It fills me, setting every nerve ending alight, but before I can direct it?—
Darak's roar of pain snaps my eyes open. The creature has him pinned, massive jaws snapping inches from his face. His muscles strain as he holds it back, but those teeth keep inching closer. Dark ichor drips from its maw, sizzling where it hits the ground.
My chest constricts. The magic thrums through my veins, waiting to be unleashed. I can't lose him. Not now. Not like this.
I raise my hands slowly, palms out. The magic thrums beneath my skin, making my fingers tingle. "Look at me," I command, my voice steadier than I feel.
The creature's head snaps toward me, those bottomless eyes fixing on my face with an intelligence that sends ice down my spine. Its roar shakes the trees so violently that leaves spiral down around us, and I taste copper on my tongue, sharp and metallic like blood magic.
"That's right. Focus on me." My voice carries more confidence than I feel, drawing on years of purna training.
"Have you lost your mind?" Darak's voice strains with effort as he holds the beast at bay, his muscles trembling with exertion. Sweat gleams on his ash-gray skin. "Get back!"
I take another step forward, feeling the earth's energy surge through my bare feet. Light blooms in my palms, pure and white-hot, casting strange shadows across the forest floor and reflecting in the creature's obsidian scales. The creature's movements slow, its massive head tilting as if puzzled by the power radiating from my hands. Its nostrils flare, testing my scent.
"Shh," I whisper, though my heart pounds against my ribs like a war drum. My fingers tingle with building magic, ready to strike or soothe. "You're not what you seem, are you?" The words come out in a gentle croon, the way my coven sisters taught me to speak to wounded animals.
Another step. The beast's growl softens to a rumble. Its form wavers like heat rising from summer stones.
"Lirien..." Darak's warning hangs in the air.
"Trust me." The words catch in my throat. When did his opinion start to matter so much?
The creature's darkness ripples as I approach. With each step, its massive form seems to fold in on itself, condensing like storm clouds before rain. The bond exposes with Darak's confusion and... concern?
"What are you doing to it?"
"Breaking the illusion." My fingers spark with energy. "Sometimes the most terrifying things are just..." The beast shrinks further, its shape becoming more defined. "...lost and afraid."
The darkness peels away like old paint, revealing sleek fur beneath. Where moments ago stood a monster, now sits a small shadow-feline, its tail flicking back and forth with curiosity. Its eyes still hold that bottomless depth, but there's intelligence there now. Recognition.
"Well," Darak pushes himself to his feet, brushing dirt from his armor, "that's certainly one way to handle it."
The feline winds around my ankles, purring loud enough to vibrate through my boots. I can't help but smile. "Sometimes the best way to fight darkness is to understand it."
Darak meets my gaze, a silent intrigue passing from him to me. I stand straight and offer him my hand. Of course, he doesn't take it. But I can feel that we've made progress despite that.