Chapter 15
Elariya
“The Shape of Memory”
Arielle was still asleep. I slipped off the bed, careful not to wake her, and tugged on my shoes.
Outside, the twin suns were steadily rising. I stood there a moment, watching them.
Last night, I’d considered that maybe they both went down at ‘night’, and the moon simply slipped into place as if it had been waiting its turn.
One thing was certain: this realm didn’t follow the rules I knew. It pretended to, but it felt like an imitation. Like something wearing the shape of a world.
And that was the least of my worries. Today was the start of our third day here.
With the fruitless attempts to figure out a way back, I was beginning to wonder if there was any point in hoping we’d leave.
Thayden would be back soon.
If I wasn’t there when he returned… I didn’t want to think about what would happen to my family.
I could already picture it. He’d assume they’d smuggled me out because he’d discovered I had powers and that they were plotting against him. Then he’d make an example of someone. Most likely my grandmother.
My family would never tell him I’d gone to the magical realm. They’d keep that secret even if it meant death. And that was exactly what worried me.
I released the breath burning my lungs and looked away from the window.
I needed to stay calm. I was already torn in half. Thinking of disaster in a place like this where I had no control over the situation would do me no good. Better to stick with what was helping.
At the moment, that was tending to Wolfe. Though, being around him wasn’t exactly the best distraction. Especially after that kiss the other night.
The kiss that still burned my lips.
It unsettled me how something I couldn’t remember wanting could still feel so real in my body.
I didn’t know what it meant to kiss a man I couldn’t remember loving—and feel like it mattered anyway.
And gods, I couldn’t afford to unravel over it. Not now.
Seeing to him was something to do. Something to focus on besides the ticking clock in my head.
I dragged in another breath and quietly made my way out of the room.
I climbed the stairs carefully, each step creaking beneath my weight.
The house still gave me the creeps.
Since we’d been here, I couldn’t shake the impression that someone was watching me, watching us. And they’d been watching the whole time.
Maybe they were. We still didn’t know whom the house belonged to, or where we were, or whether whoever lived here would come back.
What if they had, and we just didn’t know it?
Shit, the worst thing I could do now was scare myself.
I tried to shake off my worries, but by the time I reached the top of the stairs, goose bumps covered my body, and my nerves felt like they might snap.
I didn’t dare look back, too scared I’d come face to face with the nameless thing that haunted me.
I walked faster when I reached the landing, but my steps slowed when I noticed the door to Wolfe’s room was wide open.
Cautiously, I approached and stopped short when I looked inside and found him standing by the window.
He stood with his back to me, tall, shoulders broad and unyielding, like he’d been carved from the formidable stone of a mountain.
Long raven hair lifted in the gentle breeze that found its way through the opened window, the dark strands moving like liquid silk against his shoulders.
A loose-fitted shirt hung from his body, the fabric catching the strange light of the twin suns. There was something almost too perfect about the way he held himself. Perfect yet predatory. Dangerous.
I should have announced myself. Should have knocked or cleared my throat or done something other than stand there drinking in the sight of him.
But I couldn't move. Or look away.
I was relieved he was standing—awake, breathing, and whole— but there was something about the way he stood there that made the chaotic thoughts in my head quiet to a whisper. Like his very presence was an anchor in the storm of my fears.
That was the guy I’d fallen for.
The guy I’d given myself to.
Wolfe Nightblade.
And he commanded the space around him with an authority that seemed to seep from his very bones.
Nerves twisted like vines around my insides.
For a fleeting second, I considered retreating, going back downstairs, and waiting until the others were awake, until this didn’t feel so… intimate. But the thought didn’t last. I’d come here for him. Avoiding him now would only make this harder.
I took a step forward. A floorboard creaked beneath my foot, betraying me.
His head tilted. Not startled. Not surprised.
As if he’d known I was there all along.
I stopped.
Slowly, Wolfe turned from the window.
What I’d written about him in my journal didn’t even come close to the vision of him before me.
The light caught his face, and for a heartbeat, everything else fell away. The house, the watchers, the ticking clock. His eyes—that bright, unyielding blue—found mine and held me steady.
His stare shouldn’t have been able to undo me, but it almost unraveled me. Just like his kiss.
The memory of his lips on mine rose too easily, and heat rushed through my body.
“Hello, Ziyka,” he spoke quietly, his voice a deep baritone that slid through me like warm honey.
It was strange to hear him call me Ziyka outside of the muted gray expanse.
My chest tightened, but I found my voice. “Morning.”
His gaze lingered on me, unreadable, and I struggled to think of what to say. There was so much. But maybe the simplest things were best first.
“You’re up… and standing.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it quivered, showcasing my nerves.
“I woke last night.” He glanced at the bed for a moment then looked back at me. “I’ve been trying to gather strength.”
Something inside my chest loosened. Just a fraction. “How are you feeling?”
His mouth curved faintly, though the almost-smile never reached his eyes. “Alive.”
That wasn’t an answer, but I let it be one.
“Would you like me to change your bandages? Or I could just check the wound.”
The smile he’d held back broke through—too brief, but still it happened—and it was a beautiful sight.
The light caught his face for a breath as he stepped forward, highlighting the sharp, too-intense angles of his cheekbones. “I’m fine. I’ve survived worse.”
“Oh…okay.”
“I was told what you did for me.”
I shrugged, suddenly unsure where to put my hands. “It’s fine. I just…did what I could.”
His eyes didn’t leave my face. “You risked yourself in Morg?ven. You are risking yourself now. None of it should have happened.”
I took a step forward, then another, stopping a few paces away. Close enough to feel the weight of him.
“I came to find you,” I said, my voice just above a rasp. “I couldn’t leave you there. You would have died.”
Something shifted in his expression—softened, maybe—but it vanished almost immediately. “Yes, I would have.”
“I couldn’t let that happen knowing I could have helped.”
“You don’t remember me.” It wasn’t a question, and he said the words with a blunt edge that stabbed at my insides.
I swallowed and nodded once. Slowly. Then silence stretched between us.
“How cruel fate is. I know who you are,” he continued, his voice even. “I know what you are to me.” His jaw tightened as he held my gaze. “But you don’t.”
“I’m… sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. And I genuinely was sorry.
His gaze shifted to the floor for a beat then met mine again with a caution that looked unbecoming of him. “It’s foolish.” He sighed. “I knew this moment was coming, but I never thought about this part. The part where you’d look at me and not… know me.”
He sounded like he was mourning me, although I was standing right here.
“I’m different.”
“Yet you still kissed me.”
My heart stopped.
The words hung between us, and I couldn't breathe, couldn't think past the rush of blood in my ears, couldn’t stop myself from feeling he’d just stripped me bare.
His eyes searched my face, reading every flicker of panic I couldn't hide.
"I—" The word caught in my throat. What could I possibly say? That I hadn't meant it? That would be a lie. That I didn't understand why I'd done it? Also a lie.
"You caught me by surprise," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know what to do with... with you."
His expression didn't change. "And yet you did it anyway." His gaze held me captive. "Even without your memories, you're still you, Ziyka."
My heart clenched. "But I’m not. What is a person without their memories?"
“Still the same person.” His lips twitched for the faintest smile. But it was one without humor. “The mind is not the only thing with a memory. The heart remembers, too.”
Heart.
There were quotes I’d recorded about him saying my heart would remember.
Maybe it had. Maybe that was why I felt his mark tugging in my chest. But how did I explain that the only thing inside me was hollowness?
“I’ve been told that you have to go back to Stormfell.” He lifted his chin, and just like that, he changed the subject.
“Yes. I have to go back. My family need me.”
“Because of Thayden?” The muscle in his jaw jumped, just once before he mastered it, but there was no masking the fury in his eyes.
“He’s threatening them.”
“I know.” His gaze sharpened, something dark flickering beneath the surface. “The guys explained the stakes.”
I hesitated, then said, “I don’t know what else to do. And I can’t put my family at risk. I won’t.” I tried to imbue my voice with certainty, letting him know that was non-negotiable.
Something unreadable crossed his face. Not anger. Something deeper. I thought he was going to argue, but all he said was, “I understand.”
I gazed up at him, my gaze locked with his as I waited for him to say something more.
Nothing came.
I didn’t know what I was expecting, but I had to admit I felt…
Slightly… disappointed.
Disappointed he’d agree to let me go so easily.
He understood.
Understood I had to go back to Stormfell and marry another man.
He understood.
How stupid to feel disappointed when I knew the stakes. But I couldn’t help it.
Given all that we’d been through and all that we were supposed to be to each other, I was expecting… more.
And all he could do was look at me.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside the door. It broke the tension between us and the acrid silence.
I looked toward the door when Bastian appeared.
“Our ship is here.” He beamed. “We can go home.”
I gasped, and relief flooded me so fast my head lightened.
Blessed Mother. Thank you. Finally, we could leave this Gods awful place.
“Get everyone together,” Wolfe replied. “Each of you will need to pay Titania's Tithe.”
Bastian nodded and flashed me a warm smile before sauntering away, but my mind was stuck on Wolfe’s instruction to pay Titania’s Tithe.
That was something I’d only ever heard associated with death and funerals. In the magical realm, the tithe was a payment to Titania—the Goddess of Death—for safe passage into the afterlife.
I looked back at Wolfe, wide-eyed. “What is happening? Why do we have to pay Titania's Tithe? We’re not…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the word—dead. Perhaps the reason I’d felt off was because I didn’t know I’d crossed over.
“No. We’re still alive,” Wolfe answered, putting my mind at rest. “The tithe is for our host. The Reaper. So, he’ll allow us to leave his realm.”
“Reaper? As in Grim Reaper?” My voice quivered as if caught in a gust of wind.
“Yes. One of them.”
The shiver that hit my body was unlike any other. It turned out that eerie feeling I’d had of being watched was right.
It was great to know I wasn’t being paranoid. But what comfort was I supposed to take in knowing that the Grim Reaper had been watching us?
“Where are we?” I furrowed my brows and glanced outside at the brightening suns.
“Boerl?ch. Another place you shouldn’t be. It’s a dead realm, a path to the heavens or the hells.”
A lump swelled my throat, and my nerves scattered like mice. “Oh Gods. This is all too much.”
“Take my hand.” Wolfe stretched out his hand to me.
“What?” I looked at it and took in the firmness in his long fingers.
“You are half-human. A tithe will not be sufficient payment for you.”
“What will I have to do?” I searched his eyes. They darkened to a savage shade of cobalt that could be malice if it were a color.
He cocked his head. “Take my hand and show him who you belong to, Ziyka.” His words carried a dark promise, laced with possession.
Menace and danger flickered in his expression, void of compromise, like he was already imagining the Reaper's reaction.
Wolfe pushed his hand closer toward me. I took it without hesitation, deciding not to argue that I belonged to myself. Now was not the time for that.
He closed his hand around mine, then all thoughts vanished from my mind when writhing shadows rippled around his form and his face took on a skeletal shape.
Shadows twisted around him like snakes until a shroud of darkness surrounded him. Wings like smoke unfurled from his back, looking nothing like they had when they’d wrapped around my body, cocooning me on the beach.
He’d turned into a monster.
But… I could feel him. Feel his hand in mine. And something more.
Something that sparked inside my heart, beyond the void.
“My Lady.” He motioned for me to follow.
I did.
We stepped forward. And the house began to fade away.