Chapter 36
My temple is lost
LORIEN
I stand at the window of my room, watching the storm breaking over my capital. The ocean’s roar is thunderous, but it’s not the storm that unsettles me. It’s Jude. He’s the storm.
The first cracks of the tempest had barely begun when we made it back, barely keeping our heads above the violent waters as the magic surrounding Jude bled through his skin.
I’d pulled him onto the shore, cradled his shuddering body, and felt the faint pulse of that unnatural energy thrumming beneath his skin.
Something’s wrong with him.
Something worse than we ever imagined.
Now the storm rages. The sky is dark, streaked with the kind of chaotic energy that mirrors Jude’s fractured magic. It rips through the distant waters, lashing the ocean into a frenzy. The sea feels wrong, rejecting him, pushing him back.
I clench my jaw, eyes narrowing on the turbulent waters. There’s no ignoring it now. The storm will not calm until we make things right. And I know, deep down, the only place where that can happen is the Temple of Helena.
The memory of that place claws at me. The pain, the almost deadly force of it, still burns in my veins, a scar I can’t shake.
I could die there. It nearly killed me the last time, but what choice do I have?
The kelpies have poisoned him. His aunt’s magic is twisting inside of him like a parasite.
The ocean itself is turning its back on him.
I’ll be damned if I let him be lost to it.
I made plans while Jude slept, plans that would ensure his safety, even if it meant risking my own.
The Temple of Helena is a dreadful place, and I have no choice but to return, to seek the answers I could not find last time.
The kelpies will stop at nothing to keep their grip on Jude.
And while I can’t be certain the Temple will hold the answers, it’s the only place that has ever held any sway over their dark magic.
The ocean has rejected Jude, but I still have hope—desperate hope—that the Temple can stabilize him before it’s too late.
“Lorien?”
I turn at the sound of his voice.
Jude stands in the doorway, looking pale and thin.
His hair falls in damp tendrils around his face, and the shadows beneath his eyes tell a story I’d rather not hear.
He’s not looking at me the way he used to.
Not like a lover or even a partner. Now, it’s as if he’s seeing me for the first time, and he doesn’t like what he sees.
“What is it?” I ask, though I already know.
His eyes flicker to the storm outside, then back to me, filled with something between fear and fury.
He glances at the desk and I know he knows.
He knows I know. We both know he’s seen the scrolls, and that he’s understood their meaning.
And now he’s wearing the kind of look that tells me he’s ready to argue.
“Are you really going to do this?” His voice shakes, barely keeping its edge.
I straighten, stepping away from the window. “You know I have to.”
He growls, and I arch an eyebrow.
Jude’s gaze hardens, his posture bracing for whatever storm he’s about to unleash.
“You’re heading back to that damned temple, to throw yourself in danger again, aren’t you?”
I can feel the heat rising in my chest, the familiar burn of anger at the injustice of his words. I’m hurt he’d dare to think I’d abandon him, wounded that he’d even consider this a possibility. But I can’t bring myself to let my rage surface. Not yet. Not when there’s too much at stake.
“And when were you going to tell me?” Jude asks, his voice sharp and dangerous. “Or were you going to fuck off again and leave me to pick up the fucking pieces if you didn’t return?”
I take a slow breath.
The words strike a chord I’ve been avoiding, a truth I can’t hide from anymore. I look at him, my hands tightening at my sides.
“I wasn’t going to leave you to pick up anything. I was planning to do this alone, but you’d only make it worse if I took you with me.”
“So, I’m not good enough to help you? Not good enough to even try?” His chest rises and falls with the rapidity of his frustration. “You think you can save me by throwing yourself in the fire again, Lorien, but you’re only making it worse.”
His lips curl into a sneer, the hurt beneath his eyes flickering like the storm outside. I take a step forward, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off of him, the raw emotion rolling from him like waves crashing against the shore.
“You don’t understand.” My voice is rough, the words coming out in a whisper of desperation.
“The magic is unstable. It’s killing you, Jude.
The storm outside, that’s the ocean rejecting you.
You’re becoming something else, and I can’t let it take you.
You don’t get to throw away your life because of my mistakes. ”
“So I don’t get a choice?” His voice is cutting, furious now.
“No.”
His blue eyes darken and his expression falters for a moment, that flicker of vulnerability cutting through his answer. But it’s gone just as quickly, replaced by the defiance I know too well. Jude looks at me as if I’ve betrayed him with every word.
“I don’t need you to do this for me, Lorien.”
“I am king, Jude. I need you to trust me.”
“No, you want me to obey you,” he spits, his words as sharp as broken glass. “It’s not the same fucking thing and you damn well know it.”
I grit my teeth, frustration bubbling up, but I swallow it down.
This isn’t about power. This isn’t about control.
He’s so fucking determined to twist my intentions into something they’re not.
And I understand why. This isn’t just about me saving him anymore.
It’s about me taking the reins, forcing him to confront the truth he refuses to see.
“You don’t understand.” My voice is a breathless rasp. “I’m doing this because I love you. And if you’d let me, I’d—” I stop myself, the words choking in my throat.
His eyes flash with something close to rage.
“Don’t,” he growls. “Don’t use that as your fucking excuse, Lorien. I’m not some helpless child you get to save. I don’t need you to fix me.”
I take a step back, my heart sinking with each word he spits out.
I’ve never seen him so lost, so consumed by this storm of emotions.
The man standing before me isn’t the one I fell in love with. But I still see the traces of him. I see the vulnerability and the fear. Beneath the anger, I hear him beg.
It’s a desperate plea, a silent scream for help buried beneath his words. He’s lost, so utterly lost, and he doesn’t know how to fight it.
And worse, he doesn’t think I can help him.
He doesn’t think anyone can.
That thought hits me like a punch to my gut, and my chest tightens as the overwhelming pressure threatens to crush me.
This isn’t about control. This isn’t about saving him for the sake of it. This is me, reaching for him, for the person I love, trying to pull him out of the darkness.
This is unlike any pain I’ve ever known, and it’s a hurt I cannot endure.
I can’t abide seeing him like this, seeing the person who once held me with such certainty, now pulling away from me as if I’m the enemy.
His pain is so raw, so crushing, and there’s nothing I can do to make it stop.
He’s pushing me away because he doesn’t believe I can handle it.
Or worse, he doesn’t want me to see him like this.
“Jude, please,” I say softly, taking another step toward him. “You’re not broken. But you’re being torn apart by something we don’t understand. You need me to help you. I won’t let this magic destroy you.”
He shakes his head, lips curling in disgust. “I don’t need your fucking pity. I don’t need anyone to save me.”
I take in a shaky breath.
“I don’t want to fix you, Jude. I want to help you. I want to be here with you. But I can’t do this alone, and neither can you.”
He stares at me, his eyes flickering with emotion, a silent battle waging behind his gaze.
“You don’t understand, Jude,” I whisper, forcing the words past the tightness in my chest. “I’m not doing this because I think you’re weak. I’m doing this because I love you. And I won’t let you fade away. Not like this.”
“I’m not fading away, Lorien. I’m just—” He breaks off, shaking his head as if he can’t finish the thought.
“I know you’re scared,” I say, my voice breaking, “but you’re not alone in this. You never have been.”
“Then why does it feel like I am?”
His voice cracks with the question, and I see the dam he’s been holding up for so long starting to break. The vulnerability in his face is unbearable, and I can feel it too, the pain that’s been building inside of him, the weight of it pressing against both of us.
A wave crashes against the great dome of our temple outside, its force rattling through the glass and steel like the city itself is holding its breath.
Beyond the transparent walls, the sea is a swirling, violent menace, its lightless depths churning as shadows move like specters caught in the current.
Schools of fish scatter in erratic bursts, fleeing the unseen force roiling in the dark.
The kelp forests that usually sway with the deep’s rhythm now lash against the structures, their movements frantic, unnatural.
Even the city feels wrong. The bioluminescent lanterns flicker as if suffocated, their glow dimming in time with the deep, shuddering pulses that vibrate through the seabed.
The streets beyond the palace are eerily silent, the usual hum of life drowned beneath the weight of the storm above and the chaos within.
This is because of Jude, and the magic he is struggling to contain.
“You’re not alone,” I repeat, my voice trembling. “I won’t leave you. Not now, not ever. But you have to let me do this, baby.”