Chapter 23 #2
I leaned my forehead against hers, letting the bond settle between us, warm, steady, pulsing with something that scared me far more than any darkness coiled in my bones.
Her heartbeat synced with mine, in the same way it always did.
Like we weren’t two people at all, but one shared pulse.
I wanted to kiss her. Gods, I wanted to kiss her so badly I could almost taste it, to feel her fire melt into my shadows, to lose myself in her, even if only for a second.
But the part of me that wasn’t entirely lost, the part my shadows kept dragging back from the edge, reminded me this wasn’t real.
That it was the bond. The pull. The curse tying us together like some cosmic joke.
So, I forced myself to breathe. Forced myself to stand.
Forced myself to step away and put space between us before I drowned in it.
My fists clenched at my sides to keep from reaching for her again.
“Try to get some sleep,” I said quietly. My voice wasn’t steady. Not really. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” I tore open a shadow portal for her, the darkness swirling like ink caught in moonlight. She looked up at me with those impossibly blue eyes.
“Thank you, Aid,” she whispered. Aid. My nickname.
Only she ever said it like that, and it nearly brought me to my knees.
Then she stepped into the portal and vanished.
I was left standing alone by the river, breath uneven, heart pounding, shadows restless beneath my skin, each one of them whispering the same damn thing I refused to accept.
She’s yours. I stayed there long after she was gone, staring at the rippling black water, trying to convince myself it was just the bond. And failing.
The next morning, I’d barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Rynlee, tear-streaked, trembling, clinging to me like I was the only thing keeping her upright. And underneath that image, the shadows whispered the same infuriating word over and over:
Mine.
I scrubbed a hand over my face as I stood in the training yard.
Firebeard still hadn’t shown, which was strange.
He was always here before sunrise, pacing the field like a restless wolf.
Today? Nothing but quiet snow and the distant groan of shifting ice.
And then I felt her. Ruin. Approaching from behind me, her presence glided along the bond like warm sunlight cutting through frost. The shadows hummed in response, eager and restless.
“Hey, good morning,” Rynlee said softly as she walked up beside me.
But her voice barely registered. My eyes stayed locked on the tree line.
Something was wrong. The air felt… off. Heavy.
As if the world were holding its breath.
“Aiden?” she pressed on, her boots crunching in the snow as she stepped closer.
“Shh,” I murmured, lifting a hand slightly, not at her, but at the space in front of us.
“Something’s wrong.” Her heartbeat stuttered through the bond, confusion and worry bleeding into me, but I pushed it aside.
I let my shadows expand across the frozen ground, slipping between trees like smoke.
Their whispers sharpened. A body. My stomach dropped.
“What did you say?” I muttered, though part of me already knew the answer.
“I didn’t say anything,” Rynlee replied, brows knitting.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I said quietly. The shadows surged, pulling. Guiding. Urgent. I followed without hesitation, weaving deeper into the forest as the cold thickened around us. Rynlee’s voice echoed faintly behind me:
“Aiden? Where are you going? Wait!” But I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. My heart hammered, shadows twisting tighter the farther I walked until there. The snow dipped into a shallow impression, the shape unmistakable even from a distance.
I stepped closer. A student lay sprawled on the snow, limbs bent unnaturally, skin pale as marble.
Frost clung to his dark lashes. His lips were tinged blue, parted in a final, silent breath.
My blood ran cold. I dropped to my knees, fingers to his neck.
No pulse. Nothing. My stomach twisted as I scanned his body.
No wounds. No bruises. Just like the girl in the dorm.
“What the fuck is happening?” I whispered more to myself than to anyone. I felt her approach behind me and heard her inhale sharply.
“Oh, my gods…” she breathed, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Her face was drained of color. “What happened to him?” she asked, stepping closer but not too close, like her body knew how wrong it was before her mind did.
I shook my head. “Same as the girl. No wounds. No sign of a struggle. Just… gone. All the blood. Gone.” Her eyes lifted to mine, and I saw something flicker there: recognition.
“Ruin,” I said carefully, “what is it?”
“I think…” she glanced over her shoulder, her voice dropping to a hush. “I think I might know why. But I don’t think it’s safe to talk here.”
I nodded once, sharply. “Fine. Meet me down by the river again. Tonight. We need to start figuring out what the hell is going on before more students end up dead.”
She nodded that determination, setting her jaw again. “Sounds good. Also, do you know where Firebeard is?”
I shook my head.
“No, it seems strange he should be here by now. Let’s report this to my father; maybe he knows something.
” Without waiting for a reply, I opened a portal, and we stepped through, emerging just outside my father’s office.
The air felt heavier here, as if it already knew what we were about to say.
I stared at the door for a moment. Then I raised my fist and knocked.
“Come in,” my father called. The moment I entered, the familiar scent of tobacco and ink hit me.
The study hadn’t changed; same brown leather chairs, same neat stacks of parchment and relics of war, same painting behind his desk of him, my mother, and us boys.
That painting used to mean something. Now it just mocked me.
He didn’t look up as we entered, scribbling away at some official document like we were nothing more than another task on his endless list. “Unit Leader Dagon,” he said at last, not even sparing me my name.
Of course. It wasn’t surprising anymore.
If anything, I had grown accustomed to it.
Ever since my mother died, I hadn’t been a son; I’d been a tool.
Something to sharpen. A soldier to break and rebuild until nothing soft remained. And still… a part of me had always wanted his approval. Needed it. Every broken bone. Every scar. Every sleepless night spent in the training yard long after the others had collapsed.
All of it had been for that fleeting flicker of pride in his eyes.
I had chased it like a fool. I thought…Gods, I really thought that I had finally earned it when the Moon God’s mark burned into me during my first year.
When Khonsu chose me. When divine power carved itself into my bones. I thought that made me enough.
His son. His heir. I was wrong. The training didn’t ease after that.
It became harsher. More brutal. If anything, he demanded more because now I had no excuse.
I wasn’t just his son anymore. I was a conduit.
A vessel. Divine power wrapped in flesh and expectation.
And vessels couldn’t afford weakness. Couldn’t falter.
Couldn’t break. Now I stood in his office beside the one girl who did get his approval.
The one who was praised simply for standing back up.
And that old, bitter resentment simmered low in my chest, familiar and ugly.
“Commander, we found another student dead this morning. Out by the training field, we were assigned. He was from the Ares Unit.” That got his attention. The scratching of his pen stopped. He slowly set it aside and lifted his gaze to mine.
“Another student?” His tone was even, but the shadows whispered otherwise. He wasn’t surprised.
“Yes, sir,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral.
Cold. This was business; it always had to be with him.
“Same as before. No wounds, no signs of a struggle. Just… no blood.” Rynlee stood beside me, relaxed and standing there as if nothing was wrong.
But then again, Rynlee never had to worry about being around my father.
He treated her like a child should be treated.
I almost rolled my eyes, and that resentment grew slightly more.
“I see,” my father said after a pause, leaning back in his chair and stroking his beard. “That makes two now. Out where students train…” he trailed off, thoughtful. Calculating. “We’ll need to halt your training.”
My brows furrowed. “Why? Firebeard is still here; he can oversee us.”
“He’s taken leave,” my father replied flatly, as if that explained everything. “Effective this morning.”
“What?” I asked, stunned. “Firebeard didn’t say anything—”
“It was a last-minute decision. He’s been…
stressed. Talking nonsense. Rambling about things that don’t concern him.
” Beside me, Rynlee stiffened. I could feel the realization hit her like a wave.
She knew something. But I was too busy trying to make sense of it all.
Why pull Firebeard now? If the world truly hinged on our training, if Rynlee and I were the key to balance, then why remove the one instructor who believed in that?
“Sir,” Rynlee spoke suddenly, her voice steady, but I could hear the edge beneath it.
“We can still train without Firebeard. We have each other. We’re making progress.
” My father finally looked at her. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and something passed across his face, something…
almost as though he hadn’t noticed her until now.
Like she was invisible until she spoke. And that surprised me.
My father always greeted Rynlee with a smile, a hug, a big, prideful look, but now he sat here as if he didn’t know her.