Chapter 32
Elira
“Little mouse… wake up, little mouse.”
A voice whispered through the fog of my mind.
My eyes opened.
I was on a ship—inside a cabin room, swaying gently with the waves. And Finn…
Finn was here.
I didn’t know if this was real. If he’d truly come to me, or if my heart had conjured him one last time.
I jolted upright. “Finn? What are you—” Warmth bloomed in my chest. Foreign. Too rare. I threw myself into his arms. He felt real. Solid. My hands found his face—wet with tears.
He looked healthy. Strong. Like the version of him I remembered before everything broke.
“Why are you crying?” I asked, voice shaking.
He gave me a sad smile. “I almost forgot how much I liked your hugs.”
I looked around. The cabin was beautiful—rich wood, heavy curtains, a captain’s quarters. But cold metal shackles hung from my wrists. Heavy. Real.
“I don’t think you’re in a good place, Elle,” he said gently.
“What happened?” My thoughts were sluggish. The edges of memory blurred.
“There was a fight, little mouse.”
Images hit like lightning—
Thorne. His eyes like void.
Slade—forced to—
“Slade,” I whispered, trembling.
“I’m sorry,” Finn murmured.
He stepped closer and pulled me into him again.
“I didn’t want you to remember like this.”
“He might be okay, right? He could be—”
“He could be,” Finn said softly. His gaze drifted. “I think... maybe that’s why I’m here.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are whispers,” he said, voice low. “Where I am now… they speak about you. It’s hard to make them out, but one word always comes through.”
I swallowed. “What word?”
His gaze locked onto mine.
“Remember.”
“Remember what?”
He tried to answer. His lips parted—but the sound caught in his throat. Nothing came.
Instead, he raised a hand. Gestured to my chest.
I touched the space over my heart instinctively.
Finn clenched his fists. He tried again—but the dream was unravelling.
“Finn?” My voice cracked. “Finn—don’t go. Don’t leave me.”
“Never, Elle. Never.” He said, “I’m always here.”
“I’m sorry,” I choked. “I should’ve told you—I’m sorry for everything. I’m so sorry I left you like that -”
“Elle,” he said softly, “you have nothing to be sorry for. Especially not for loving them.”
I stared at him, blinking back tears. “Don’t forget me. Please.”
He leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to,” he whispered. “Not for a second. You’re a part of me, Elle, you always will be. But you need to remember. Remember!”
And then—
He was gone.
When Finn disappeared, the world didn’t break—it just faded. And when it returned, I was smaller again. The shadows of memory were waiting, calling me back.
The cabin faded. The sea stilled.
The dreams twisted and changed, fading out. Back to somewhere more familiar.
And I was smaller. Younger. The shadows of memory drawing me back.
I was back in Shadowmere, wandering the empty halls, looking for my daddy.
I skipped along the hallway to Daddy’s study at the end. I heard his voice behind the door, and something warm bloomed in my chest.
A little mouse scuttled across the floor ahead of me. Soft, grey, skittish. Mummy would’ve been mad, but I always liked the animals. Especially the black cat that came to my room at night. She was quiet. Watchful.
She slipped around my ankles like she was welcoming me home.
She hadn’t changed. Still silent. Still mine.
I patted her fur. She was silky, even now.
I looked around the space. I missed my daddy.
I peeked around the half-open door.
Daddy was inside, speaking in hushed whispers with someone. I thought it was a woman, but I wasn’t sure—her voice was soft, floaty, like the wind through curtains.
I’d dreamed this before. But this time… I heard the voices clearly. I knew that voice. I knew what they were talking about. I knew it was real.
“She’s the only one who can now, you know that. She the only one who can wake them…”
“She can’t remember! Not any of it! She’ll be hunted!”
I try to look closer. Her voice – it’s familiar.
Who is she?
I knew that voice. But her name stayed just out of reach.
“Daddy?” I call.
No! Elira!
A door slams shut again.
Out the window, for just a breath—I thought I saw a cracked mirror. But it was gone.
Only one word remains.
Remember.
**
I woke in the same cabin. But this time, I was alone.
The mattress was too soft, the room too still. My wrists were chained to the bedposts, the manacles cold against raw skin.
And I knew.
This wasn’t safety.
This wasn’t a dream.
A voice like silk dipped in ice cut through the silence. “You’re awake.”
I flinched hard.
Vael stood in the doorway, one hand resting lightly on the frame as if he belonged here—like this was his kingdom and I was simply another piece of it.
“No,” I breathed. My voice felt thin.
“It’s alright, pet,” he said softly, stepping into the room. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Behind him, Thorne appeared—stone-faced. Emotionless. A wraith carved in the image of someone I used to know.
“You remember Thorne?” Vael asked, as if this were a cordial visit. As if Thorne wasn’t standing there like a hollow blade, watching me disintegrate internally.
My gaze darted around the room.
The door. The window.
No escape.
I was trapped.
I tried to summon my shadows—tried to reach for them with every shred of will I had—but they didn’t answer.
The manacles pulsed cold. Warded. Magic-sapping.
My chest tightened. My breath caught.
This isn’t real. This can’t be real.
Vael moved closer, each step deliberate. Slow.
I shrank back into the mattress as far as I could go, chains clinking softly with my movement.
He sat beside me like a lover might—like he had every right to. His hand lifted, brushing hair from my face with a mockery of tenderness.
I flinched.
And still, he smiled.
Vael’s fingers brushed my cheek.
I turned my head sharply, yanking against the manacles. The metal bit into my skin. I didn’t care.
He sighed, like I’d disappointed him somehow. “Still so full of fight,” he murmured. “That’s what makes you special, Elira. That defiance. It’s beautiful.”
I didn’t answer. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Vael leaned in closer, his breath cold against my neck. “You’ve been running for so long,” he whispered. “But it always ends here. With me.”
“Let me go,” I rasped.
He tilted his head. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”
Behind him, Thorne stood motionless. Long, angry gouges scraped down his cheek from my nails.
Good.
He was like a sentry. A watchful shadow.
I was frozen.
Detached.
My body existed in the room, chained to the bed, but my mind—gods, my mind was somewhere else. Somewhere safer. Somewhere that didn’t feel like hands trailing down my shoulders or breath brushing the shell of my ear.
“You smell divine,” Vael murmured. His voice was soft, reverent. Like prayer twisted into something vile.
I stared past him. At the wall. At Thorne.
He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
He just watched.
I wanted to scream his name. Beg him to stop this. To remember who he was. Who I was.
But my voice was gone. Buried under the weight of fear and betrayal.
Vael’s hand reached my collarbone.
Something snapped inside me.
My fist swung out and punched him hard in the jaw, sending him back to the floor. Blood dribbled from his nose.
I recoiled, breathing hard, but it’s like there was no air. Vael stood slowly, staring at the blood on his hand.
He swung out his fist and caught me hard on the side of my cheek. White stars burst behind my eyes.
The headboard cracked against my skull and for a moment, everything blurred—smeared into black and red.
I tasted blood.
But I was still awake.
Still me.
“Still defiant,” Vael murmured, almost wistful. “It’s admirable, in its way.”
He leaned closer. Too close.
“We shared such intimate moments once, didn’t we?” His voice dropped.
“And we will again.”
He turned toward Thorne, gesturing with an idle flick of his fingers. “Watch her - my beloved. Make sure she is… well cared for.”
“Yes, sir,” Thorne said flatly.
Vael leaned forward and stroked my face again. I cringed away. He grabbed my hair and yanked it hard, forcing me close. He kissed me, brutally, his lips hard and poisonous.
I bit his lip hard and he chuckled.
Vael’s lips tore away, blood streaking his mouth where I’d bitten down. He licked it with something between amusement and reverence.
“My promised still has teeth,” he murmured, darkly delighted.
I spat blood in his face.
The smile only widened.
“You’ll be ready for me soon,” he said. “One way or another.”
He stood and turned toward Thorne again. “Do not let her hurt herself. She’s no use to me broken.”
“Yes, sir,” Thorne said again, monotone.
Vael left without another glance, the door clicking shut behind him like a lock on a crypt.
Silence settled.
And then I turned to Thorne—my eyes burning, voice shaking with venom.
“Was that hard to watch?” I asked. “Or do you even feel anything anymore?”
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t look at me.
Just stood there. A ghost in my nightmare. The man I once trusted—now nothing more than a sentry.
“I hope you’re in there,” I said, softly. “I hope you felt every second of that. Because one day, Thorne, when this breaks—when you break—I want you to remember how you stood there. How you gave me to him. And did nothing.”
Still no reaction.
But I thought—maybe, just maybe—I saw a flicker. A breath. A shift behind the eyes.
And gods, I held onto that flicker like a thread of light in the dark.
Because it was all I had left.
Finn’s word still rang in my bones.
Remember.