Vaelína
—ASHáN
I’ve started craving these nightly sessions with her.
Sage is burning alive tonight. His arms are wrapped protectively around Eden, but his breathing is shallow and strained. He denied his own needs earlier to spare her, and now the backed-up magic is slowly suffocating him.
And again… it was my fault.
The scent of her níva leaking into the air had been a fishhook snagged straight into my soul. I had slammed against the cage I built inside our shared consciousness, starving to shift and run my fangs over her nectar-covered breasts. I held strong, but she found me anyway—she felt me.
Ash’kaela, how I long to touch you.
I unspool a sliver of my shadow and wind it around Eden’s midsection. A thread so thin it could be mistaken for a simple draft if she wakes up.
“Hello, my little shadow,” I breathe into the dark.
A tiny spark pushes back, reaching and wrapping around my essence. She holds my darkness, pulsing a warm hum back up the tether until my throat tightens.
She knows me.
“You are so strong, Vaelína,” I whisper. “Are you ready for tonight’s story?”
I let my shadow stroke gently over Eden’s stomach while I feed our tiny princess.
“Once, there was a creature made entirely of darkness,” I murmur softly, letting the deep cadence of my voice soothe her.
“He lived in a deep, cold hollow, and he believed if he ever touched The Sun, he would only destroy it. He was sure he was a monster. But one day, a beautiful, stubborn copper flower started growing right in the center of his void. And it wasn’t afraid of his shadows—it bloomed because of them. ”
Vaelína pulses happily, drinking down the protective weight of my magic.
“The creature realized his darkness wasn’t a curse,” I whisper. “It was just a place to keep his flower safe.”
Vaelína takes one last, deep pull of my shadow, her bright presence growing heavy and slow with sleep.
She’s full.
It’s time to let go.
But as I try to pull my tether back, my soul rebels furiously.
Everything inside me screams to stay, to wrap them both in an impenetrable cocoon of night and never let them go.
The ache of withdrawing my shadow feels like tearing out my own veins. I am starving for Eden, trembling with the effort it takes to peel myself away from the warmth of my family.
I linger for one agonizing second longer, brushing a silent kiss against the bond.
“Sleep now, míní. (Little one) I will always guard the dark for you.”