Chapter 65
Sweat trickled down my back as we searched the yard.
But there was no well.
Another shriek erupted somewhere in the distance.
"It has to be here…" Rìan stalked the perimeter once more before driving his boot into the crumbling wall. Stone cracked, rubble tumbling to the ground. "Damn it!"
The Dead Shed stood a few feet away, its doors hanging open. The bound bodies that once filled it were gone, leaving only burlap clawed to shreds and several coils of rope abandoned inside.
I wandered back across the eight-pointed star, turning slowly in a circle, searching every corner of the little square.
No well.
Of course there wasn't. There had never been one in this part of town.
I swallowed against the papery dryness in my mouth, fear closing around my chest. We were running out of time. If we didn't leave soon, we'd die here.
Warmth trailed down my palm. The cut across my hand was still bleeding, my magic stubbornly dormant, refusing even this small kindness. As though it knew what we intended to do and was fighting me in the only way it could.
A drop gathered at the tip of my middle finger and fell.
Tssss.
I froze mid-step, my gaze dropping to the center stone beneath my feet.
A thin wisp of smoke curled from where my blood had landed. It hissed against the worn paving, eating into the stone like acid. The surface blackened, then began to crumble around the single crimson drop.
"Rìan..." I breathed.
He was beside me in an instant, dropping into a crouch. He stared at the spot where my blood had eaten through the paving. His gaze snapped to mine.
"It's beneath the star."
He caught my wrist and yanked me down beside him. He flattened my bleeding palm against the ground and swept it back and forth across the stone, spreading my blood wherever he could. Grit scraped through the open cut, but I barely noticed the sting.
The moment my blood smeared across the center, smoke poured from the paving. A hard crack rang out beneath us, followed by another and another as fractures tore across the stone in every direction. Wherever my blood had touched, the surface darkened, crumbled, and fell away.
Rìan released my hand and immediately jammed his fingers into one of the widening breaks. He tore a slab free and hurled it aside. I joined him, grabbing the broken pieces and clearing them away as fast as I could while my blood continued eating through those that remained.
With my heart lodged somewhere in my throat and sweat dripping down our faces, we finally drew back to stare at what we’d uncovered. Beneath the paving stones was a smooth circular slab no wider than a barrel lid.
“Help me.” Rìan dug his fingers beneath one edge. I wedged mine beside his, and together we heaved. With a grinding groan, the cap broke free. We shoved it aside.
A breath of stale air belched from the darkness below, carrying the scent of damp earth and stagnant water. The terrible sense of wrongness intensified, pouring from the opening in waves. I gripped the edge of the well, fighting the instinct to turn and flee.
It was little more than a narrow shaft descending into absolute blackness.
“Why would they bury it?”
Rìan leaned over the opening. “It was capped. Paved over at some point as the town grew.”
“It’s... small.”
“It wasn’t always.” He pointed to the masonry lining the shaft. “Humans narrowed it. Probably thought they were making it easier to use, never realizing this well wasn’t meant for drinking.”
Another shriek cut through the air
“We need to hurry.”
I tore my eyes from the opening and glanced around. "There's no bucket."
Rìan’s gaze snagged on the Dead Shed. His eyes lit with sudden purpose.
"What?" I asked.
He was already moving. He sprinted to the open shelter and emerged moments later carrying a length of old rope and a strip of shredded burlap. Dropping to one knee beside the well, he knotted the frayed ends together, then tied the cloth to one end.
"Rìan..." I eyed the burlap. "That used to wrap dead bodies."
He cinched the final knot and gave it an experimental tug. “Do you have a better idea?” Without waiting for an answer, he gathered the burlap and tossed it into the darkness. Moments later, a faint splash echoed up from somewhere far below.
He rose quickly, wrapping the end of the rope around his waist and tying it tight. Then he stilled.
He stared down into the well, and for the first time since we’d found it, the urgency seemed to leave him.
Finally, as though it cost him everything, he looked up at me.
His eyes were completely dark, not a single spark of silver within them, yet somehow I had never seen them hold so much. Almost unconsciously, his hand slipped into his pocket, his fingers closing around something inside. His throat bobbed.
"This is it, then," I whispered.
A muscle jumped in his cheek. "This is it."
Something in his face crumpled. Just for an instant, the strain he’d been holding back showed so plainly that he seemed almost gaunt.
“Eidra, I...”
The words died in his throat.
Instead, he held out his hand, bloodstained and upturned.
Forcing myself to move, I drew the bone knife from my belt. The pale slash across his palm was still pink where it had just healed. I set the blade against the line and sliced through it for the last time. His skin parted easily, dark blood welling at once.
I turned the knife toward myself. I was shaking so badly I struggled to hold the blade steady. My cut hadn’t closed, but I deepened it anyway.
Slowly, I laid my bleeding hand in his. Our fingers laced together without thought, fitting together as naturally as breathing.
The instant our palms met, black ink streaked across our skin.
Inky vines wound over our hands and around our wrists, disappearing beneath our sleeves.
Blood seeped between our palms and slipped through our intertwined fingers.
I felt his pulse where our wounds touched, my own beating in time with his.
I moved to extend our joined hands over the mouth of the well, but his grip tightened around mine, stopping me. Slowly, he lifted our hands between us. His eyes held mine as he pressed a soft kiss to my bloodstained knuckles.
My lungs forgot how to breathe. All at once, every instinct screamed at me to tear my hand from his. To stop this before it was too late. But before I could move, Rìan reached our clasped palms over the mouth of the well.
At once, the stone beneath my boots began to tremble. The shaking spread through the square in gathering waves, rising through my feet and rattling deep into my bones.
Darkness exploded from the depths, black wind tearing around us with an unearthly scream.
It struck Rìan first.
A dark tendril shot forward, spearing into his chest. He jolted at the force of it, his fingers crushing mine as it vanished inside him. Then, almost as quickly as it had entered, it ripped free.
His eyes flashed silver.
Something gave way between us.
A wall I hadn’t known existed simply... vanished. There had been no hint of it, no resistance, nothing to suggest it was there—until everything it had held back came crashing into me at once.
Torment… Anger… Frustration… Despair…
Emotion after emotion slammed into me, too wild and tangled to separate.
Fear… Regret… Grief…
But beneath it all was the longing. So much longing. Terrible and raw and real.
It wound itself around his heart, tightening with every beat, each pulse carrying the same desperate want.
I knew that ache.
I knew it because I felt it too.
Felt it every time I looked at him.
And he was looking at me now, pale and shaken, as though the Gate had stripped away every defense he possessed. For the first time, there was nothing between us. Nothing to hide what he’d never wanted me to feel.
The shadows fell away, settling into slow, languid circles around our feet, waiting.
“It was you,” I breathed.
He didn't answer. He only stared at me, his hand trembling violently where it clasped mine.
All those times I’d thought I was feeling Aedric’s emotions… First in Dheren. Then, stronger still, in Noctharis...
“Can…” I was almost afraid to ask, terrified of hearing what I already knew. “Can you feel me?”
He closed his eyes, as though he couldn't bear to face this moment.
“Yes.”
The single word hit like a blow.
“How long?” My voice broke. “How long have you been able to sense my emotions?”
I saw the truth plainly on his face.
“You shielded,” I whispered. He lowered his eyes. “Why? Why would you lock me out?”
In the distance, Saskia’s warning call rang out again, but Rìan didn’t seem to hear it. He stood frozen, breathing hard, every muscle taut as though bracing for battle.
“Please, Rìan.”
He gritted his teeth, fighting to maintain the perfect control he always had, but there was no barrier left to hide behind. I felt every ounce of his turmoil. Every shred of his agony.
“Truth.”
The word tore through the last of his restraint.
“What good is the truth?” His eyes flashed. “What would it change to know that, yes—I’ve felt your heart from the very beginning?”
His grip on my hand was bruising.
“Would it change anything to know that when Thalassis hurt you, I felt it and came running? That when the guard laid his hands on you, I couldn’t let him live? That when those men from the tavern hunted you through the streets like prey, it took everything I had not to kill them all?
“Would it change anything to know what it did to me to feel how broken you were when you first came to Noctharis? To feel your suffering while you were caged in Solmire? Your guilt after it burned? Your desperate need to drown it all beneath another drink?
“Every time Aedric touched you, I felt your pleasure. Your desire. And every time, I wanted to cave in his fucking skull for daring to touch you after everything he’d done! Is that the truth you wanted to hear?”
His breathing roughened, color rising beneath his skin.
“Every ounce of your hatred for me. Your disgust. Your sense of betrayal. I carried all of it. And I hated you for it as fiercely as you hated me. More, maybe, because I could never escape it. Every ounce of your loathing was mine to bear until this fucking bond was broken!”
A vein pulsed in his temple as the words poured from him, his emotions crashing through our bond.
“Would it change anything to know that I couldn't bear the shame I'd put inside you that day in the library? That after I mocked you for being unable to read, I sent Levinica to teach you? That I sensed your pride every time you learned another word... every little triumph... felt your confidence return piece by piece, and treasured it as though it were my own?”
My jaw slackened. Levinica.
It had been Rìan all along.
Every truth he laid bare shifted something inside me, reshaping moments I thought I understood, filling in pieces I hadn’t even known were missing.
The picture forming between us was so much bigger than I had ever imagined.
So beautiful. So heartbreakingly sad. And it hurt to finally see it clearly.
“Would it help you to know that somewhere along the way, I knew when you changed?” He tore at his hair with his free hand.
“Knew when your hatred gave way to longing... to something neither of us had any right to want? That instead of making it easier, it became more unbearable than your hatred had ever been? That every step toward this damned well—every mile, every day—brought us closer to an end neither of us wanted anymore?”
His breath hitched.
“Is that the truth you wanted, Elowen? A truth that changes nothing? Because we both know there’s only one truth that matters in the end.”
“And what truth is that?”
His voice faltered. “That we will never be together.”
His words died between us.
My throat closed, tears spilling freely down my cheeks.
“Why not?” I whispered, barely trusting my voice. “Why can’t we?”
He blinked, as though he couldn’t quite believe what I’d asked. But I’d never meant a question more.
“You’re my enemy’s mate, Eidra.”
His eyes shone, and the agony that moved through our bond nearly brought me to my knees.
“I know you, Elowen. I know your heart. And I know you'll never forgive yourself for what happened to Aedric unless you save him.” His lips flattened. “And me—I owe it to Dannis... and to Levinica... to find him.”
My heart tore cleanly in two.
Dannis.
The name echoed through me like a tolling bell.
He exhaled slowly as he felt the guilt rise inside me.
“I’ve experienced pain in every sense of the word, Eidra. But nothing compares to this.” His eyes met mine. “The pain of letting you go.”
“No, Rìan…” My voice cracked. “I—”
I had to tell him. Gods, I had to tell him. About Dannis. About everything. If he knew the truth, maybe this didn’t have to happen. Maybe there was another way.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Rìan flinched as though the words had struck somewhere tender. Slowly, he shook his head. “We have to.”
The words climbed up my throat, impossible to hold back any longer. “No, Rìan, I…” My heart hammered against my ribs. “I know what happened to Dannis.”
He stilled, a crease forming between his brows. Whatever he'd expected me to say, it wasn't that.
I opened my mouth, the truth finally ready to spill free—
The shadows exploded upward, engulfing us before another sound could leave my mouth.
Darkness slammed into my chest and plunged deep inside me.
I gasped as invisible claws raked beneath flesh and bone, reaching deeper and deeper, searching the most guarded corners of my heart.
Reaching for something I’d locked away for so long.
Something I’d only just found the courage to surrender.
No.
Panic ripped through me.
Not like this.
Please, no.
I was going to tell him. I—
Invisible hands tore the awful secret from me, wrenching it free before I had the chance to speak it myself, offering it to Rìan against my will.
Last, the truth your heart would shield.
What lies within shall be revealed.
The third trial.
“No...”
The first image burst into existence.
A little boy.
Blood streams down the side of his face where half his ear has been torn away. Tears pour down his cheeks as he screams and screams and screams for his mother…
It shattered. Another vision took its place.
Neeken kneels beside a campfire, calmly skinning rabbits while Aedric sits nearby. Their laughter drifts through the trees.
Gone.
Neeken's body lies slumped over a fallen log, motionless. The white curve of his spine gleams through the ruin of his back. So still.
I couldn't breathe.
Levinica.
Her fingers dig into my arm, leaving crescent moons behind. Grief twists every line of her face.
I should have run to him. I should have told him. I should have saved her.
Levinica gives herself to the sea.
The waves swallow her, and she’s gone.
The final image dissolved.
The shadows tore free as suddenly as they'd come, ripping away into black ribbons before vanishing back into the Well.