Therrin's POV
The cabin was quiet save for the rhythmic sound of our breathing. Morning light filtered through the cracks in the old wooden walls, but my vision wasn't bathed in gold—it was shadowed. I could see the edges of Ciaran's form beside me, clear and sharp, though the rest of the room remained smudged and soft, like a dream painted in charcoal. I should have been terrified. Instead, I was mesmerized. I watched him sleep for a moment, his lashes dark against pale skin, the faint crease between his brows smoothing only when I touched his face. My fingers ran along his cheekbone, down to his collarbone, where the sheet had slipped. His skin was cool, but not cold. Not like I'd expected from someone who commanded darkness. He stirred beneath my touch. "Are you watching me again, mo ghrá?" he murmured, voice still thick with sleep. I smiled, not answering, and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. "You always know." "I feel you. Even when I sleep." His eyes opened, gleaming silver in the dusky light. "Come. There's somewhere I want to take you." Ciaran's POV I didn't tell her where we were going, only took her hand in mine and led her through the dense forest behind the cabin. The shadows shifted around us like silent guardians. I could feel them latching onto her too—welcoming her, even without her full command. She said nothing, her steps light, her trust in me unspoken but loud. Her hair was wild and tangled from sleep and passion, and I found myself twirling strands of it around my fingers, like I had done the night before. Possessively. Reverently. "It's not far," I promised, tightening my hold on her hand. "This place… it's ours. Always has been." We broke into a hidden clearing wrapped in weeping willows and thick vines. A pool of water shimmered darkly beneath an ancient obsidian arch, carved by time and shadow. She stepped forward and gasped. "I've seen this," she whispered. "In dreams…" "You were never dreaming," I said, pulling her into me. "Not really." Therrin's POV Ciaran stood behind me, his hands skimming down my arms. There was a strange pull here—an aching in my chest that both hurt and soothed. I felt like I'd left something behind here long ago. He slid the straps of my dress down my shoulders slowly, reverently, his mouth brushing the skin he revealed. "This is a sacred place, Therrin," he whispered. "It remembers us." I turned to face him. "Show me." He didn't hesitate. The shadows rose at his back like wings, and with a flick of his fingers, the memories began. Not visions exactly—more like feelings pouring into me. Echoes. My laughter in this very clearing. My moans wrapped in his name. His voice promising to love me through war and death and rebirth. The passion we shared here—feral, sacred, uncontainable. My breath caught as Ciaran kissed me again, this time slower. Hungrier. His lips trailed down my neck, lingering, branding. Ciaran's POV Her body melted into mine as I guided her to the mossy stones beside the pool. I lay her down carefully, shadows curling around us protectively. The curse still lingered—she couldn't see the world, not like this. But she could see me. Feel me. And that was enough. More than enough. Her skin flushed beneath my hands as I whispered words of ancient power. The shadows responded, teasing along her inner thighs, brushing the peaks of her breasts, swirling against her pulse. She shuddered beneath the sensation, gasping, arching. "I can feel everything," she breathed. "You always could," I murmured, leaning down to kiss the hollow of her throat. The shadows obeyed my commands—wrapping around her wrists lightly, teasing without constraint, bringing heat and electricity to every place I could not touch at once. She was fire and silk beneath me, her body responding to every breath, every sigh. "You were mine once," I said, trailing kisses along her jaw. "You are mine again." She answered not with words, but by pulling me down to her, hands tangled in my hair, lips seeking mine with desperation. Therrin's POV There was no fear. No hesitation. Just surrender and something deeper than love—like our very souls were tangled in the night sky, woven through the stars above us. His hands were rough and tender, dragging pleasure from me in waves. When the shadows lifted me, pressing me against his chest while his mouth roamed over my body, I cried out, and he swallowed the sound like a man starving. My body knew him. My soul ached for him. It had always been this way. And when it was over, when the last cries faded into the soft hush of the woods, he held me—forehead pressed to mine, lips brushing my temple. "You don't have to remember it all yet," he whispered. "But this? This is ours. No war. No gods. Just us." Ciaran's POV She fell asleep tangled in my arms, peaceful and soft and still pulsing with the power I'd helped her unlock. The shadows wrapped around her like a blanket, responding to her even in sleep. She didn't know it yet, but they were beginning to obey her more than me. It thrilled me. And terrified me. I kissed her brow once before slipping from her hold, standing naked in the moonlight. I summoned my cloak with a thought and disappeared into the trees, needing distance. Needing air. I didn't go far. From the edge of the clearing, I looked back once, watching her sleep. My Therrin. My beloved. "You're close," I murmured into the wind. "I can feel you watching. So say what you came to say." But no one answered. The shadows only shifted, silent and waiting.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