Chapter 8
EIGHT
Aleksander
Ididn’t want to see her.
It wasn’t safe.
I wasn’t safe.
I shouldn’t have been here, waiting for her like this. Baiting her. But the alternative…
You know the alternative, came Lorien’s reply, his voice a soft hiss in the back of my mind.
I sank down on one of the thrones and tried to calm my pounding heart, focusing instead on studying my surroundings.
The ruins of the Palace of Midna looked oddly impressive in the setting sunlight.
Interestingly, this middle kingdom cycled normally through cycles of day and night, despite the chaotic energy dominating the air here.
The throne room I waited in seemed to have been positioned to embrace the fall of twilight, its arched windows catching the last golden rays and casting long shadows across the cracked marble floor.
Tapestries of old battles and forgotten lineages looked less dusty in the fading light, their colors briefly revived by the sun’s parting glow.
Part of the ceiling had caved in, but it had fallen in a way that framed the fiery orange and indigo-swirled sky like a painting.
One could almost forget this place was a crumbling echo of something far grander—at least until the wind slipped through its broken bones, howling in a way that was unmistakably empty and eerie.
My gaze slid to what remained of the doorway. After weeks spent without Nova, it was impossible to keep my eyes off it, knowing she would be walking into this room at any moment.
I knew why Lorien wanted her to see me. I was a tool he was using to bend her to his will, to his plans—plans I still couldn’t clearly grasp, despite the disgusting way we were twisted together.
I wasn’t sure which would be worse: Greeting her myself, or letting Lorien greet her. It was torture, either way.
She was in danger, either way.
She knew all of this too, surely. Not that it would stop her. For as much as she’d changed over the past months, some things remained constant: She was still my fearless, stubborn, chaotic little beast.
So, here we were.
Restlessness overcame me. I got to my feet and paced the room, kicking aside piles of dust and the tattered remains of rugs and fallen banners as I went.
My mind was the clearest it had been in weeks.
My step was light, my movements smooth—because they were entirely my own.
Lorien had sworn to stay dormant so long as I stuck to the script.
Thus far, he’d mostly kept his word—slithering back into the recesses of my mind, a heavy, but silent, coiled presence tucked just beneath my thoughts.
It was tempting to believe I could make him stay there.
But how did you escape an enemy who had its claws in your very existence?
I couldn’t even focus on the question long enough to truly contemplate it; he would have known I was plotting.
After memorizing nearly every crack in the walls, every dip in the floor, and every cobweb spun between broken pillars, I sank back into the musty cushions of one of the thrones once more.
I thought of heavy crowns and heavier choices, of the ones who had once ruled from these thrones—supposedly under the guidance of the gods themselves.
Midna was a place of desperate beginnings and violent endings.
I wondered which one we were on the brink of now.
Whatever was to become of us, the instant Nova entered this forsaken realm, I was aware of her. Her magic—her very essence—washed over me like a tide returning to a familiar shore; steady, relentless, ready to pull me under.
Desperately, I again tried to warn her through the mental bond we seemed to have developed over the past weeks.
I didn’t understand how it worked, I only knew that I’d heard her voice, sometimes—even in my darkest, most fractured moments—and I hoped with everything in me that she could hear me, too.
Stay away. Please, gods, just stay away. I don’t want to see you. Not here, not like this.
I didn’t.
I swear I didn’t.
But then I caught sight of her stepping through the splintered arch of the ruined doorway. Her silhouette was sharp against the last flickering threads of daylight, her body haloed in gold and dust.
The way she carried herself—head high, shoulders tense—stole the breath from my lungs.
And I forgot, for a moment, that I didn’t want to see her.
I was on my feet.
I was across the room, reaching for her like the weak fool I was, my hand taking hers, pulling her close. She went stiff in my hold, hope and fear clashing in her gaze as she studied me. Faint shadows swirled on her skin as her eyes took on a darker shade of turquoise.
Magic.
Of course—she was using her magic to try and reveal the truth of me.
I felt in control of myself in that moment, yet I was still afraid of what she might see. Afraid I was more gone than even I realized, that she wouldn’t be able to find me among the shifting, treacherous layers of Lorien’s power.
Who am I, if even she can’t recognize me?
The seconds ticked by like a blade swinging back and forth above our heads, getting closer and closer to cutting.
Then, finally, she lifted her hand to my cheek and whispered, “It’s you.”
My mouth tipped automatically toward hers, but I somehow held myself back, my lips not quite brushing hers as I said, “You shouldn’t have come here.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t want you to come here.”
“I don’t care.”
“It isn’t safe.”
Her gaze narrowed defiantly. “As though that could have kept me from you.”
I kissed her. It was fucking stupid, but I kissed her hard enough to make all the warnings pounding through my head go silent. Deeply enough and fiercely enough that all I heard was the sound of her breath catching, her heartbeat quickening.
Her tongue met mine in a wild, heated dance. My hands tangled in her hair. Her fingers dug into my back, clutching tightly, pulling me closer. As our bodies pressed together, something dangerous and determined unfurled in my chest—something that belonged to the two of us and no one else.
Something Lorien couldn’t take.
I felt his looming presence like a knife at my back, threatening to sink in. Before it could, I took Nova’s face in my hands, pulling back just far enough to whisper, “Listen to me, Chaos.”
Her eyes went wide at my tone, the fear from before resurfacing. It killed me to see it. To know I was the one causing it. But I forced myself to keep talking:
“Whatever deal he tries to make with you, don’t do it. Not for me. Don’t let him use you against me. That’s all he’s trying to do. You understand?”
“Aleks—”
“Swear it to me.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out.
“Swear you understand.”
She tried to shake her head, but I only held her more tightly, my gaze desperately fixed on her face, like it was my last glimpse of shoreline before the waves carried me under.
Then I was drowning in a furious rush of power.
Like a hand wrapping swiftly around my throat, Lorien’s control surfaced, choking the breath from my lungs. Our lungs. His lungs.
The words I’d planned to say next died in mid-air—
I love you.
Over and over, I thought the words but couldn’t speak them.
Nova stumbled backward, realizing what was happening.
“Such an uncooperative host.” Lorien’s words slithered from my mouth, low and poisonous. “It’s getting exhausting, really.”
Nova took another step back before abruptly halting, forcing herself to stand her ground, her back straightening, her chin lifting. “You bastard.” Her hand went to the hilt of Grimnor, her grip trembling but sure. “You monster. You thief. You…you… curse.”
Lorien smiled, his gaze sweeping over her sword. “If I am a curse, then it’s only because your predecessor made me this way.”
“Blaming someone else for your crimes,” Nova snarled, withdrawing Grimnor and holding it threateningly between us. “How predictable.”
“Yet painfully accurate.” The words hung in the air, inviting questions—another trap laid. “The part about her cursing me, that is.”
After a long pause, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No. Could you speak plainly for once in your miserable existence?”
He bared his teeth in a smile. “As you wish,” he said, walking to what remained of a window that looked eastward, out over the bridge that connected this throne room to the Aetherstone’s chambers.
Nova kept her distance, but I could feel her watching us, Grimnor’s power pulsing eagerly in her grip.
“I thought this particular curse would end after I managed to access the legendary chamber,” Lorien said, nodding toward what we could see of that battered place.
“That’s where I assumed she’d buried things.
So, you can imagine my disappointment when I didn’t find what I was looking for, even after you opened the last of the chamber’s sealed compartments. ”
“What are you talking about? You were looking for nothing except power and control within that chamber.”
“Wouldn’t that be the easier narrative? The simpler one, most certainly. Light versus dark. Life versus death. The heroine overcoming the villain.” He chuckled darkly. “But no—unfortunately, I was looking for more than that. I was looking for myself.”
“…Yourself?”
“A seemingly impossible thing to find, after what she did.”
Another long silence stretched between us, until Nova said, “What she did…you’re talking about Calista, aren’t you?”
His anger rose in waves at the mention of the former Shadow Vaelora. The feeling was so intense, it swallowed up all other sensation for a harrowing moment, eating away at the line I’d been trying to keep drawn between us.
The waves calmed quickly, though his fury continued to smolder just below the surface as he quietly said, “I would have moved on from this world long ago, had Calista not been such a sadistic, vengeful bitch. Every bit of instability this world and its magic have faced is because of her.”
“You lie,” Nova snapped.
“I don’t. Myself, there’s nothing I love more than a painful truth.
But do you know who does lie? Everyone in that infernal palace of yours.
Your brother. Your advisors. The ones who want to keep you safe, even if it means keeping you in the dark about some of the more unsavory parts of our world’s collective histories. ”
Nova averted her eyes.
“…But your magic won’t lie, will it?” Lorien closed the space between them, taking hold of her chin and forcing her gaze to his.
She winced at his grip, and I wanted to break my own fingers to make him let go.
“You’ve gotten very talented at divining the past from things, haven’t you?” Lorien murmured. “Talented enough to make an entire room reveal its secrets to you, I’d say.”
A muscle twitched in Nova’s jaw.
Don’t listen to him, I thought.
She blinked, looking confused for an instant—as if she’d heard my voice, somehow.
Before I could try to reach her again, Lorien asked, “Do you know why I asked you to come to Midna?”
“Because you’re a coward who was too afraid to face me in my own kingdom, I assumed.”
He laughed, the sound low and dark. “Not quite.”
She scoffed, but curiosity shimmered in her gaze. “Why, then?”
“Because this is where it happened.” He let her go, freeing his hand to gesture toward a pair of doors in the back of the room. “Just beyond the throne room, there.”
“Where what happened?”
“Why don’t you come and see?” He moved toward those doors, not waiting to see whether or not she would follow his invitation.
Again, I wished she wouldn’t.
Again, it did no good.
She followed at a distance, Grimnor still tightly clasped in her hand.
Lorien paused at the threshold, waiting for her to join him.
We stood before a medium-sized room with glass walls covered in dust and grime.
It was bright despite the layers of filth, the orange glow of the passing day forcing warmth over tattered chairs, broken vases, and worn wooden floors…
though not enough warmth to chase away the distinct feeling of melancholy hanging over the space.
I felt Lorien tense with anticipation as Nova moved closer—the excitement of a predator whose prey was coming within pouncing distance.
“We’re stronger together,” he said, glancing her way.
“Which means I can magnify your powers, and you could do the same with mine. If you wanted to see anything and everything this room remembers, I could help you. There’s nothing we couldn’t unravel together.
Unless, of course, you’re afraid of the truth you might reveal. ”
I sensed Nova’s magic shifting with those last words—the shadows beneath her skin lifting in indignant protest, ready to prove they were not afraid.
She knelt and ran her fingertips over the warped floorboards.
After a brief bit of concentration, she quietly said, “Something cataclysmic happened here. There was blood. Pain.” She inhaled sharply, as if personally feeling a stab of that pain. “Anger. Despair.”
It wasn’t really a question, but Lorien nodded anyway. The rage that had overtaken him at the mention of Calista was back, only this time he made more of an effort to rein it in. It settled around us like a heavy, itchy cloak.
That heaviness sank in deeper and deeper, until it was difficult to tell who it belonged to—myself or him.
The legends that surrounded Lorien and Calista, the stories that haunted all our histories…I’m not sure I would have been able to resist the urge to see it for myself, either.
So I already knew what Nova would say next.
As did Lorien, a smile curving his lips, even before she said, “Show me where to look.”