Dion's POV
The late afternoon sun filtered weakly through the dense canopy as I hurried toward my small cabin nestled deep in the woods. My chest was tight with dread, a cold knot twisting inside me. The weight of everything—the distance growing between me and Therrin, the shadowy presence creeping at the edges of our lives, and the silence between her and Ari—pressed down like a storm about to break. I had left her only hours before, trembling under the weight of things unsaid, the fragile threads of connection fraying between us. I needed to find her, to fix this before it spiraled beyond repair. But when I pushed open the door, the emptiness that greeted me slammed into my chest harder than any blow. The cabin was untouched—her clothes folded neatly, the faint scent of her lingering in the air—but she was gone. Panic flared bright and sharp. I called her name aloud, but the silence was deafening. My mind immediately reached out to Ari—the only other soul I could connect to so intimately. If Therrin wasn't here, then maybe Ari knew where she had gone. I closed my eyes and sent a mental pulse, a silent call reaching across the distance to Ari's mind. "Ari, can you hear me?" The connection sparked faintly at first, then bloomed as she answered silently, her voice echoing softly in my thoughts. "Dion. Yes, I hear you." Relief washed over me, but it was tempered by the anxiety lurking beneath. I needed answers, and she was the closest link I had. "Therrin—she's not here. Do you know where she is?" There was a pause, heavy with uncertainty. "No. She hasn't spoken to me. There's… a barrier between us now, Dion. I can't reach her either." The words hit me like a cold wind. The walls that kept Ari and Therrin apart were also keeping me from her. "She's pushing us away," I said, frustration thick in my mind. "Why? What's happening to her?" "I don't know," Ari admitted. "But it's like something is controlling her, whispering in her mind, pulling her deeper into the shadows. I can feel it—but I can't fight it alone." "I'll find her," I promised fiercely. "No matter what it takes." The connection flickered, Ari's thoughts reaching out one last time. "Be careful, Dion. She's fragile. And the shadows—" But I had already broken the link, the weight of urgency pressing me forward. I began searching the surrounding woods, every step fueled by desperate hope. The forest was thick and shadowed, but I called out to her, listened for any sign—anything to tell me she was near. The air grew colder as the sun dipped lower, and a restless unease settled deep in my bones. It was as if the shadows themselves were watching, waiting. I stopped beside a small stream, the gentle rush of water a stark contrast to the turmoil in my chest. Kneeling, I traced my fingers through the cool current, trying to steady my racing mind. Therrin, I whispered. Please come back. The woods seemed to close around me, thick with silence and shadow. And then, a faint glimmer—a flicker of movement just beyond the trees. I sprang up, heart pounding, and pushed through the underbrush toward it. But as I reached the spot, there was nothing—only empty air and the lingering scent of earth and leaves. I sank to my knees, exhausted and broken, tears burning hot behind my eyes. My connection with Therrin was fraying, slipping through my fingers like smoke. I had to find a way to bring her back—to break through the darkness pulling her under. But with each moment she drifted further away, the shadows grew stronger. And I feared that if I didn't act soon, I might lose her forever.Ciaran's POV The shadows paused, their movement reverent, as though sensing she'd gone too deep. Her breathing was shallow, her head limp against the air. Floating, bound, and blissfully unconscious. Ciaran stepped closer from the dark, his voice a thread in the stillness. "Little one…" No response. He watched her—admiring and alert—his own breath tight in his chest. Her face was soft, her lashes fluttering like she was dreaming. The shadows curled protectively around her, awaiting his next word like loyal pets. "Therrin," he said more firmly, his voice sliding low and rich, cutting through the haze. "Come back to me." She stirred. A tiny sound escaped her lips, barely audible. Her body shifted slightly in the air, the arch of her back instinctive. She blinked slowly, her eyes unfocused and glazed with submission and softness. "There you are." He touched her cheek,
Therrin's POV The forest around them was thick with dusk, the golden light folding softly beneath the canopy as shadows deepened into night. Therrin sat quietly beside Ciaran, her mind still caught in the aftermath of what had happened during those shadow-bound moments—moments she barely understood but felt woven into the core of her being. Ciaran's voice was low, careful, as he broke the silence between them. "Tell me… how did it feel when the shadows contained your wrists?" His gaze searched hers, steady and patient. Therrin's breath hitched. She hesitated, then slowly looked down at her hands resting on her lap, fingers curling slightly. "It was… strange. Heavy, but not like a weight pressing down. More like a presence—firm, unyielding. I could feel the cold, but it wasn't just cold—it was focused, like the shadows were holding me, keeping me still, making me vulnerable." She swallowed and glanced back at Ciaran, a flick
Grimm's POV The underground chamber hummed with quiet energy, the runes etched into the stone altar glowing softly like a heartbeat in the dim light. Grimm's eyes, sharp and ancient, flicked over Dion's tense form as the young man sat cross-legged, hands resting lightly on the cold surface. "You've taken the first step," Grimm said, voice low but steady. "Acknowledging your fracture is the beginning of healing. But the path ahead will test every part of you—mind, body, and soul." Dion's gaze lifted, weary but determined. "I'm ready to fight. To heal. To hold on." Grimm nodded once. "Good. Because the shadow creatures you face are unlike any foes you've known. They feed on the chaos within, the doubts and fears that ripple through your bond." He stood and began to circle the altar, fingers tracing the glowing runes. "These runes are ancient. Crafted by those who understood the delicate weave of
Dion's POV The ash was still warm beneath his fingers, though the night air had begun to chill around the charred remains of what used to be his sanctuary. The cabin, his refuge from the chaos of the world, lay broken, splintered, and twisted like his heart. Dion sank to the ground, the rough stone biting through his thin boots. His breath came uneven, a mixture of anger, grief, and raw exhaustion. He didn't know how long he had been there, slumped over the wreckage, letting the silence press in on him, heavy and suffocating. He had been forced to watch. To watch her. Therrin. With Ciaran. Their closeness, the way their hands brushed, the quiet moments exchanged between them like a language only they understood—it had torn through Dion's soul like a blade, sharp and cruel. And all he could do was feel. Powerless. Trapped in his own body, a prisoner to his own help
Dion's POV He felt it before he saw it. The tug. The fire. The unbearable silence. The bond between him and Therrin had grown stronger over time — something raw and ancient. But tonight… tonight it burned. Wild and wrong. Like a blade sliding between his ribs, twisted just enough to keep him standing. Dion stormed into the clearing, eyes wild, scent trailing like smoke behind him, shadows whispering in retreat. The moment he crossed the old ward lines, he knew something was off. The cabin he'd built her wasn't empty. But she wasn't there. She was gone. "Where are you?" Dion whispered, but it wasn't a question. It was a plea. He was pulled by instinct more than reason — following the trail only a bonded mate could trace. His boots crushed moss and ash, his heart pounding harder with every step. Then, he fr
Ciaran’s POV She was lying exactly where he'd left her — bare feet tucked beneath her, chest rising in slow, steady breaths, curled like a poem on the dark-furred rug of the abandoned cabin. The fire had long since gone to embers, casting flickers of red across her skin. Ciaran sat in the wooden chair by the hearth, elbows resting on his knees, studying her. There was something dangerous in the peace she wore. Like the stillness of a pond before a body dropped in. He knew what lay beneath that stillness — longing, power, hunger, and shadows, just waiting to be called. His shadows. His mate. Therrin stirred slightly, the curve of her lips parting. A sigh, then a whisper — his name. Not the one others called him. Not the title whispered in fear. The one only she would speak. "Ciaran…" He rose without a sound, the floor groaning gently beneath his bare feet. With a single thought, t