Chapter Thirty-Five
Connor
The Whispering Wood did not let go of them easily.
Even after Connor and Adrian stepped back across the old boundary stones, long after the last whisper fell silent, the forest’s presence clung to them like unseen fingers.
A weight in the chest. A hum in the bones.
A pressure under the skin that felt too much like someone watching from behind the veil of the world.
It started with Adrian’s shadow.
Back in the castle courtyard, Moira was the first to notice it. She froze mid-step, spoon halfway to a pot of stew.
“Connor,” she whispered. “His shadow.”
Connor turned and his breath caught. Adrian’s shadow didn’t move with him.
The man took one step forward and his shadow hesitated a heartbeat behind, as though reluctant to follow.
A second step, and the shadow flickered, elongated, and twisted into something too tall, too thin, too aware before snapping back into place.
Adrian blinked. “What? Why are you—”
Connor’s wolf bristled under his skin. “You feel that?”
Adrian swallowed. “I think so. Like something brushing the back of my thoughts.” He looked behind him and his eyes rounded. “What the hell is that? Why does my shadow look warped?”
Xiathen approached quickly, robes fluttering. “The Gift has manifested.”
Adrian stiffened. “Gift?”
Xiathen nodded gravely. “The Whispering Wood never calls without purpose. It has given you something. A boon. A weapon. A curse. They are often the same.”
Connor stepped between Adrian and the lore-keeper. “What kind of gift affects his shadow?”
“One tied to the First Two,” Xiathen said. “One tied to what you have become.”
Moira crossed herself. “Gods save us.”
Adrian pressed a hand to his chest where the mark still pulsed faintly. “I don’t feel dangerous.”
“You are,” Xiathen murmured. “To the Council. And perhaps to yourself.”
Connor snarled. “Enough riddles. What did the Wood do to him?”
Xiathen looked Adrian in the eyes. “It awakened your resonance.”
Adrian shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“You do,” Xiathen whispered. “You feel the valley now. You feel its wounds. Its cracks. Its breath.”
Connor frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Xiathen gestured at Adrian. “Tell me what you sense.”
Adrian froze. “I feel it.”
“Feel what?” Connor asked.
Adrian’s eyes widened. “A vibration, like a string stretched too tight. On the western ridge.”
Xiathen inhaled sharply. “What of it?”
Adrian blinked. “It’s hurting.”
Connor snapped to attention. “Hurting?”
Adrian nodded slowly. “The ground there. Do you hear it?”
He turned, staring through the stone walls as if they were glass.
“Connor, it’s collapsing.”
Connor stiffened. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Connor grabbed his coat. “Then we move.”
They reached the ridge at a run, Xiathen trailing close behind.
The moment Adrian stepped onto the ridge’s soil, his breath punched out of him. Connor stood, disbelieving what he was seeing.
A fissure opened several feet ahead, jagged like a wound clawed open from below. The ground pulsed under his boots.
“It’s breaking,” Adrian whispered.
Connor crouched, touching the earth. “I feel it too.” The ridge trembled. Connor swore, “Bloody hell.”
Adrian staggered back, clutching his head. “It’s too loud…the fault line…the pain. It’s…”
Connor grabbed him, arms locking around Adrian’s torso.
Adrian gasped, fingers digging into Connor’s coat. “Your voice. Your mark. Touch me. Help me split it.”
Connor didn’t hesitate. He pressed one hand to Adrian’s chest, over the mark.
Warmth surged: gold, fierce, familiar.
Some of Adrian’s pain transferred to him, or so he thought. Adrian’s body seemed to ease as Connor’s muscles tightened. He hissed but held steady, his jaw clenched.
“Good,” he grunted. “Now breathe. Focus on me.”
The fissure groaned, widening.
Adrian yelled, “It’s tearing.”
The shadow behind Adrian stretched along the ground like a living serpent.
Xiathen gasped. “His shadow. Adrian, look.”
Adrian turned and his shadow turned a moment after.
Late. Lagging. Then snapping back.
“What the hell?” Connor muttered. What kind of fuckery was this?
Xiathen whispered, voice trembling, “The shadow is responding to the land. It is sensing the fracture.”
Adrian’s pulse thundered. “Connor. I can pull it.”
Connor frowned. “Pull what?”
“The fracture.”
Xiathen shook their head violently. “No. That is too dangerous.”
But Adrian was already moving. He extended his hand toward the fissure.
His shadow followed, but not directly. More like a delayed reflection, mimicking the intent rather than the exact motion.
Adrian whispered, “Come back.”
The shadow’s stretched arm lengthened across the ground, slipping into the fissure like smoke.
The ground trembled.
Adrian doubled over but didn’t withdraw.
Connor grabbed him from behind, supporting him. “Adrian.”
“I can fix it,” Adrian choked out. “Trust me. Hold me steady.”
Connor wrapped both arms around him, anchoring him.
Adrian inhaled. The shadow’s arm pulsed.
And then the fissure closed. Slowly. Groaning. Fighting. Then sealed shut like stone knitting itself together.
Adrian collapsed into Connor’s chest.
Connor held him, breathing hard. “Easy. Easy. Adrian, stay with me.”
Adrian’s eyelashes fluttered. “Did it work?”
Xiathen was pale. “You sealed a fault line. Alone.”
Adrian blinked. “No. Not alone.”
Xiathen approached, kneeling beside him.
“The Wood gave you the Resonant Shadow,” they said softly. “A bridge. A limb of the land itself. A thread between your body and the valley’s wounds.”
Connor frowned. “Is it safe?”
Xiathen exhaled. “Rarely do such gifts come without cost.”
Connor’s jaw tightened. “What fucking cost?”
Adrian answered before Xiathen could.
“A little pain, but nothing we can’t handle.”
Xiathen bowed their head. “You can heal the valley. You can mend the cracks the Council opens.” Their voice lowered. “But your shadow will take the pain first.”
Adrian shivered. “It’s alive?”
“Yes,” Xiathen said. “And tied to you until death.”
Connor snarled. “They gave him a weapon that hurts him.”
“They gave him a power that can save the valley,” Xiathen corrected gently. “Only Adrian can wield it.”
Adrian leaned into Connor. “Jesus, my head is ringing. I need an aspirin.”
Connor steadied him. “I think we’re done for today.”
Xiathen nodded. “Bring him home to rest. The Gift has awakened. It will be unstable for a time.”
Connor didn’t wait. They walked back toward the castle as the ridge settled into uneasy quiet.
Back in Connor’s room, Adrian sat on the bed, pressing his fingers to his temple.
Connor knelt in front of him.
“Tell me everything.”
Adrian sighed. “It felt like the valley was inside me. Like its pain was my pain. The shadow, my shadow, pulled the fracture together, but the strain… Connor, it felt like I was being split.”
“Then we don’t use it again,” Connor said grimly.
Adrian shook his head. “We must. I saw the other cracks. The valley is breaking everywhere. We can stop them.”
“At what cost?”
Adrian reached up, brushing his fingers against Connor’s cheek.
“At the cost of being Valour.”
Connor closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “You’re going to kill yourself.”
Adrian smiled. “Not with you beside me.”
Connor huffed. “We’ll do it together. But don’t use that power without me there to anchor you. Ever. Understood?”
Adrian nodded. “Understood.”
Connor exhaled shakily, pulling Adrian into a fierce embrace.
And outside their window the Whispering Wood rustled.
Its voice carried on the wind. Valours. One shadow. Two hearts. A gift. A burden. Use it wisely. Use it soon.
Connor held Adrian tighter.