CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE #4
The music faded into nothing, swallowed by stone and distance, until all that remained was the sound of my own shallow breathing and the deafening silence of the bond.
Gods… the silence.
The bond was quiet in the way a battlefield goes quiet after the screams stop.
It felt wrong inside my chest—like a limb had been torn away, leaving behind a hollow that ached every time I drew breath.
I reached for him instinctively, the way I had a hundred times a day since he’d been sent away, and found nothing.
No shadow. No silver. No dark, relentless pull keeping me in place.
Just emptiness. The absence hurt more than any magic flare ever had.
“You’re doing it again,” Aether muttered through our link, his voice rough with a restrained, feline concern.
I swallowed hard, forcing my steps to stay certain on the polished floor. “I know.”
At least Aether could still feel me. At least one bond in my life still answered when I reached for it.
I turned down the south wing, my boots whispering across the stone. Warm scents drifted from the distant kitchens—fresh bread, spice, wine—ghosts of a childhood that suddenly felt like a lifetime ago.
Once, I would have slipped inside those kitchens without hesitation, laughing and stealing pastries, pretending I was just another girl with no crown waiting to swallow her whole.
Once. Not tonight.
I kept walking, faster now, trying to outrun the ache hollowing out my ribs.
Ezra would come looking eventually; he always did when he noticed I was spiraling. Not because of some divine tether, but because he was my friend. Because he cared.
And gods… right now, I would have given anything to feel the blood bond come roaring back to life and pull me under.
I passed the library, and memories crashed into me with the weight of a physical blow. Me. Jax. Ember.
We had run these halls as if they were our playground, our laughter echoing against the marble like a promise of forever.
How strange that a place which once felt like sanctuary now felt like a gilded cage.
Asher had become my home.
With him, I was shadow and silver and fire all at once, every part of me somehow brighter.
This castle was only gold meant to contain me, a beautiful box for a bird that had forgotten how to fly. I turned into a dim corridor and pushed through the heavy doors leading into the private gardens.
Cold night air hit my face like a slap, sharp and bracing.
Stars glittered above the high, jagged walls of Solkaris, indifferent to the girl shivering below.
Two guards stood posted near the far end of the private garden, where the entrance to the hidden Ignis Library waited behind an ornate golden gate.
“This is it,” Aether whispered through the bond, his voice a low vibration in my mind.
“Kael, grant me courage,” I breathed, invoking the god of war. I needed his strength more than my own fire tonight.
I glanced up. He was already there, his obsidian form emerging from the shadows of the rooftop.
He leapt down beside me without a sound, his tail flicking once as he mapped out every possible threat in the dark.
Game time. I pressed my hands to my face, summoning the hollow ache in my chest and letting real, hot tears fall.
The guards stiffened instantly, their hands moving toward their hilts before they realized who I was.
Perfect.
“Princess Ava?” one said, already stepping forward, his brow furrowed in concern.
“Hi,” I whispered, my voice breaking with practiced precision. “Oh gods… I’m so sorry. This is so embarrassing.”
I shook my head, letting my shoulders slump as if the weight of the crown were finally crushing me. “This garden… it means everything to me. Jax loved it. Could I please just have a moment alone? Just to breathe?”
Their expressions softened immediately. The mask of a soldier crumbled before the grief of a princess. “Of course, Princess,” the older guard said gently.
“We’ll wait inside so no one disturbs you,” the second added, offering a small, respectful nod.
“Thank you,” I breathed, offering them a watery, grateful smile.
I watched them disappear through the doors behind me, their footsteps fading into the stone.
“Smooth,” Aether murmured, amusement curling through our link. “You’re getting far too good at that.”
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird as I approached the gate.
It towered over me—massive, golden, and carved with intricate wings and flame sigils that seemed to flicker in the starlight. From the outside, it looked like nothing more than an ornate garden crypt.
We had played around this gate as children, chasing each other through the flowerbeds, never understanding it guarded the most powerful and dangerous library in Ignis.
“Okay,” I whispered, my breath hitching. “Let’s go.”
I pressed my palm to the cold metal. Heat shimmered beneath my skin, my magic recognized by the ancient wards.
The gate groaned open, the sound of stone on stone echoing in the quiet night.
Aether slipped inside first, his claws clicking softly on the ancient floor.
I followed him, stepping into the shadows and leaving the festival fire behind.