Twin Flames in Shadow

Ari's POV

The world tasted like copper and grief.

I could feel the aftermath of what had happened between Therrin and me—our clash of souls, our unraveling, our rebirth. Even now, the forest around us shimmered strangely, like it hadn't recovered either. The trees had stopped whispering. The shadows had stopped moving. Even the wind held its breath.

And yet, Dion was still here. Watching.

He didn't speak right away. He stood a few feet away, arms at his sides, as if unsure whether to touch me or run. He must've felt it—our pain, the chaos. It had echoed across the threads between us like a scream in an empty cathedral.

"You felt that?" I asked, voice raw.

"I didn't just feel it," he said quietly. "I lived it.”

I turned to face him fully. My breath caught.

He looked ruined.

Hair wild. Shirt torn at the collar. Eyes hollow with unshed tears that shimmered like broken stars. Dion wasn't just worried. He looked like he'd been cracked down the center and hadn't figured out how to hold the pieces yet.

"Ari…" he stepped forward, pausing when I didn't retreat. "I thought I was going to lose you both."

His voice cracked on the last word. And that—more than anything—made my chest cave in.

"I didn't mean to take over," I whispered. "It's just… she was afraid. And I— I needed to protect us. Even if it meant pushing too far."

"You didn't just push," he said gently. "You tore."

He wasn't accusing. He was mourning. For me. For her. For what he thought he'd destroyed.

"I know," I said. "And I think it tore you, too."

Silence hung thick between us. And yet, it wasn't empty.

It was full of all the things we hadn't said.

"I saw her," Dion finally said, his voice low and reverent. "In the split-second before you overtook her. Her soul. It was crying. Not because of you. But because of what she wanted—and was too afraid to hold."

I swallowed hard. "You."

His nod was almost imperceptible.

"She wants you, Dion. She's terrified of it. But it's all over her. In her thoughts. In how she dreams." I closed my eyes, feeling Therrin stir faintly inside.

"She feels like you'll consume her. That you'll leave once you know all the broken pieces. But you already know them, don't you?"

"I do." His gaze softened, the storm in him settling. "And I love every one."

I flinched. I didn't mean to. But the word love felt like a blade and balm at the same time.

"I want to help her," I said. "Help you. Help us. But I'm not sure how to be half of a whole when I also want you completely."

His breath caught.

And then, for the first time since the storm, Dion crossed the space between us and pulled me into his arms.

Not as a lover.

Not as a mate.

But as something in between.

Sacred. Broken. Becoming.

"I don't need halves," he murmured. "I don't need to choose between you and her. You're both my mate. Both of you are the same flame burning in two places. I can love you both. Equally. Fully. Fiercely."

Ari trembled.

Then leaned in.

And something inside me—a piece that I'd thought belonged only to me—loosened.

Because I felt it too.

The bridge. The tether. The quiet surrender.

Therrin

I didn't mean to wake up.

But I couldn't ignore the warmth spreading through me. I was still half in the veil, half out. Watching through eyes I no longer fully controlled—but feeling everything.

His arms.

His words.

Ari's heart cracking open like mine once had, before I walled it off.

But he wasn't breaking us.

He was rebuilding.

Brick by brick.

Touch by touch.

Truth by truth.

And when Ari finally let him go, breathing hard, her forehead resting against his chest, I felt her whisper something into the silence.

"She's listening."

"I know," Dion said.

And then, softly: "Do you trust me?"

It was meant for me.

Not Ari.

Not both of us.

Me.

Therrin.

The girl who ran. The girl who feared. The girl who once swore she'd never fall again.

But Dion had waited. Fought. Held on.

Even through storms.

Even through us.

I do.

The words didn't come from my mouth.

But I felt the bond snap tight like a heartbeat. Like a promise.

And I finally let it.

All of it.

I accepted him.

Not because I was ready.

But because I was his.

And he had always been mine.