Chapter 14
Iburst through the door to find Aedric seated before a slab of black glass at the center of the room, so dark and depthless it seemed to swallow the light rather than reflect it.
He was writing. The pen moved in deliberate strokes, and from its tip spilled a shining ink that pooled briefly atop the glass before sinking into it, absorbed completely, leaving no trace behind.
He paused when I entered. A smile touched his mouth when he saw it was me—warm, instinctive, unguarded—but it guttered almost immediately as his gaze lifted to my face and took in whatever he found there.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows drawing together in concern.
The light streaming through the tall windows caught in his hair, turning it molten, gilding the angular planes of his face so that he looked almost unreal—some sculpted, golden god brought to life.
His eyes, like twin sapphires, were a blue so deep they rivaled the Virellan sea glittering far below the cliffs.
For a moment, my anger faltered.
He looked like my Aedric. The one who’d saved me, who’d fought for me, who’d protected me. And yet—
There was always something beneath that surface. Something he kept buried, locked away behind that careful composure. Too many silences. Too many things he wouldn’t say.
Levinica’s son. The library.
What else had he done that I didn’t know about? What, exactly, was he capable of?
His gaze flicked briefly to Hamish, and something passed silently between them—a warning. It made something in me snap.
“Leave us, Hamish.” The words came out a bark, edged with a heat I didn’t bother to temper.
Hamish didn’t move. Of course he didn’t—he didn’t take orders from me.
He only turned when Aedric gave a short, decisive nod, stepping out without a word and pulling the door closed behind him.
Aedric’s attention returned to me. He waited, patient, expectant, the pen hovering just above the glass.
I’d come here with words burning in my throat, but now they tangled, slipping from my grasp the longer he watched me.
“Levinica’s son,” I managed at last.
Something shifted. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible, but I saw it—the tightening of his lips, the way the concern vanished almost instantly. I opened my mouth to continue, but he cut me off.
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
For a heartbeat, all warmth left his face entirely, replaced by the shrewd, assessing look I’d begun to recognize—the one that surfaced when the Lord of Flame was calculating.
“The truth, Aedric.”
He held my gaze for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
He lifted a single finger—a request for patience—and bent once more over the table.
The pen moved again, slower now, each stroke curling into elegant, looping script that gleamed faintly before disappearing.
I had the fleeting, irrational thought that he was doing it on purpose—drawing out his message to Calantha, taking just a little longer than necessary, buying himself time to think.
To decide how he would answer the question waiting on my tongue.
He finished with a final, sweeping flourish—his signature, no doubt—before setting the pen carefully back into its holder and rising to his feet.
“Come.” He didn’t look back to see if I followed.
We passed Levinica's receiving chamber, where we'd emerged after skelding to the Court the night before, its doors now closed, silent and forbidding. Beyond it, an arched opening led onto a terrace. The bay stretched wide before us in its perfect crescent, waves glinting in the mid-morning light. Aedric didn’t slow as he crossed to a narrow staircase carved into the cliff.
“This way,” he said.
He knew where he was going. Knew this place. He moved through it as though he'd walked these paths a hundred times before. Somehow, watching him navigate the castle with such ease and familiarity made my skin crawl. What had he done here?
We descended the steps and emerged onto a stretch of sand at the base of the cliff. Waves crashed against the shore, loud enough to swallow anything softer. Not that it mattered. There was no one else in sight.
Even so, Aedric scanned the shoreline one last time before stepping closer. When he turned to me again, his face had changed. I’d never seen that look on him before. It was as sharp and cold as the edge of a blade.
“What do you know?” The accusation in his tone made me bristle.
“You told me we would be honest with each other,” I shot back, lifting my chin as I met his stare. “No more lies.”
His nostrils flared faintly, the only outward sign of irritation, but his composure didn’t break.
“What do you know?” he repeated, pressing each word through his teeth.
“Lady Levinica.” My pulse began to quicken. “We saw her in—”
He sucked in a breath. “Did she touch you?”
“No.” The question took me aback. “We saw her in the library.”
Something in me braced for a reaction. Anything to suggest the mention of the library troubled him, that the devastation he’d wrought there weighed on him in some way. Some sign that he was ashamed of what he’d done—ashamed that I now knew about it.
But he only nodded again, his features smoothing back into place. “So?” he said calmly.
I stared at him in disbelief. Was he really going to make me drag this out of him?
“Aedric—” My voice shook. My chest constricted as the question rose inside me, swelling until it finally spilled over. “Did you kill him? Did you kill Levinica's son?”
He went utterly still, so completely motionless that for a moment it felt as though the world itself had paused around us. Something dark passed through his eyes, shadowing them in a way that made my stomach clench. The silence stretched, long and unbearable.
“No,” he said at last, so quietly I almost had to read the word from his lips.
I thought my knees would buckle. “No?”
“No.” This time he spoke firmly. The mask slipped, and for the briefest moment I saw it. Grief.
“What happened to him?”
His expression immediately closed off again, the brief flicker of emotion shuttered away. “It’s none of your concern.”
Before I could react, he turned away, dismissing me as though the conversation were already over. No. He wasn't walking away from this. I needed to know. I needed the truth.
My magic flared to life, rising too fast to contain as it pulled taut beneath my skin, stretched to the brink of snapping.
“Aedric—” I reached for him without thinking, my hand closing around his wrist—
My magic slipped free.
I didn’t mean to. I never did. But it was too late.
Darkness crashed over me. The world dropped away, images flashing through my mind like pages in a book until they finally stopped on what I was looking for—what I needed to see.
The boy, screaming, blood spilling from the ragged edge where his ear had been, his hand reaching—
“Stop!”
A distant pain struck, and the vision collapsed. Darkness tore away as I was hurled violently back into my body. Light returned in a blinding rush as I hit the sand, the impact driving the breath from my lungs. Heat flared across my cheek, my eyes watering at a sudden burn.
Aedric loomed over me, his chest rising and falling raggedly, fury burning in his eyes.
“How many times?” he demanded, low, dangerous, every word edged with restrained anger. “How many times have you been in my mind without me knowing?”
I’d never seen him like this, never felt this kind of anger directed at me, and for a moment I could only stare up at him, stricken.
“Aedric—” I managed weakly, pushing myself up slightly, wincing at the pain in my face. “I didn’t mean to…”
It was the truth. I hadn’t meant to invade his mind. My magic moved on its own, acting without my permission, without restraint, and he knew that. It wanted to dreamwalk—I couldn’t control it.
His stare roved over me before settling on my face. His expression fractured suddenly, something else breaking through beneath it. Shame.
He dropped into a crouch at once, reaching toward me with the hesitation of someone approaching a wounded animal. His fingers brushed lightly over my cheek, achingly gentle now, trembling with something that felt like regret. I tried not to flinch, but the contact stung.
“Elowen…” My name sounded raw on his tongue, pleading.
He pulled his hand away, dragging it down his face instead, anguished.
“There are things…” he began shakily. “Things I can’t tell you about… For your own safety. One day, I promise you’ll know everything.”
I swallowed hard, trying to steady the emotions swirling inside me.
“You swear you didn’t kill him?” My voice was barely a whisper.
He looked at me then, the tight line of his mouth giving way to something quieter, heavier. “I swear it.”
His gaze drifted to the horizon, distant, as though he were looking at something far beyond the water. “Levinica is Rìan's half-sister.”
I stared at him.
“When he was sealed into the Veil, we needed someone to rule this Court—someone with Dusk magic, someone strong enough to take the throne. And after the Firstborn Wars…” He wet his lips. “There was no one else left.”
My heart hammered. The silence that hung over the castle—over all of Noctharis—had never felt so horrifying.
“It had to be Levinica.” His hand closed around a fistful of sand, the grains slipping slowly through his fingers. “To ensure that loyalty, we took her son. It was a decision made by the Full Circle.”
“What happened to him, Aedric?” My blood was pounding in my ears.
“He was placed within one of the Courts. His identity was concealed. That’s all I can tell you.” Aedric’s gaze darkened. “It was done so if Levinica ever stepped out of line—if she ever turned against the Realm—”
“You’d kill him.”
He nodded grimly. “I'm not proud of it, El. But we needed loyalty. And we needed the Dusklands to yield.” His fists tightened. “I've done terrible things, El. You saw the library. But this… this was war.” He choked on the last word.
Slowly I reached out, tentative, resting my hand against his forearm. He looked back at me at once, but his gaze didn’t settle on my eyes—it caught once again on the side of my face.