All Chapters of Bound by Darkness: Shadowborn: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Grimm's POVGrimm sat on the mossy outcrop beneath the silver-threaded moon, tails curled neatly around his paws, ears twitching with every whisper of shadow in the trees.He had delayed this long enough.Behind him, he could hear Therrin's breathing. Steady, but tense. Beside her, Dion sat like a carved statue of dusk and gold, gaze flickering between Grimm and the dark sky above.They were waiting.They had every right to know."You both need to understand what's coming," Grimm said finally. "And what came before."Therrin's voice was quiet. "Is this about the Shadow Mistress?""No," Grimm replied, "it's about you. All of this… starts with you."He turned to face them fully now, golden eyes reflecting moonlight."Centuries ago, there lived two witches. Sisters. Selene, born of light. Veyra, born of shadow. They were bonded by blood, by childhood, and by something older than either understood. Their magic complemented each other. Balanced each other. Until they both fell in love with

Therrin's POVTherrin's eyes remained shut, but sleep offered no peace.A pressure lingered behind her ribs, low and growing—like something ancient curling awake inside her. It had started subtly: a whisper that brushed the edge of her thoughts, so faint she thought she imagined it. But now…He doesn't see you. Not really.Her breath hitched.The voice was male—rich and cruelly tender. Not Dion. Not Ari. Not Grimm. This voice was older. Intimate in a way that didn't make sense.You are not enough for him, the voice continued, velvet smooth. But you could be more. You were never meant to be small, Therrin.Therrin's lips parted slightly as she lay still beneath the blanket. Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the wooden cabin walls, but it didn't touch her. Not truly."Therrin," came Ari's voice in her mind, gentle and warm. "You okay?"Therrin clenched her jaw."Yes," she lied, her mental voice steady. "Just… tired."Ari's presence leaned in. "You're not. I can feel it. Please don'

Dion's POV He bolted upright in the dark, heart hammering, breath ragged. Ari's voice still rang in his ears—sharp and fractured, like it had been torn from the air. "Something's wrong." Her fear bled through the bond, her desperation like a hook in his spine. And then—nothing. Just gone. The silence that followed felt wrong. Not the kind of wrong he could explain. It was deeper. Heavier. Like something precious had been severed. He didn't realize he'd shouted her name until Therrin stirred beside him. She flinched. He looked over. "Are you—?" "I'm fine," she said too fast, voice low and tight. Her arms curled around herself like she could make her body smaller. "It was just a nightmare." No. No, it wasn't. He could still feel the lingering tension humming under his skin. The weight of whatever Ari hadn't been able to say. But he couldn't ask. Not without making Therrin shut down even more. So instead—he said nothing. He watched her. She was trying too hard to look

Ciaran's POV The silence of the cabin was a veil, drawn thick between the world and the war he watched unfold in her soul. The dim light of the moon barely reached through the windows, and he lingered in the shadows as he always had—watching, waiting, knowing. They were asleep. Dion lay curled around her protectively, one arm slung over her waist, his face buried in her hair. A lover's gesture. A foolish man's gesture. He had no idea what pulsed beneath Therrin's skin—what darkness had already begun to unfurl. Ciaran exhaled softly, almost reverently, as he knelt beside the bed. His form remained cloaked in shadow, barely visible in the darkened room. He reached out, fingers of smoke and midnight, brushing the loose strands of her hair away from her cheek. A quiet sound escaped him—something raw and ancient. Her face tilted just enough toward his touch, still deep in sleep. Her lashes fluttered, her breath shallow and even. "You always looked like this when you dreamed," he murmu

Therrin's POV She lay draped across his chest, the rise and fall of his breath rocking her gently, like the tide waiting to pull her under. His skin was warm beneath her cheek, and her fingers idly traced the dark hair curling across his chest—soft, coarse, familiar. She twirled a piece of it between her thumb and forefinger, smiling faintly at the way his hand never stopped moving in her hair. Slow, circular strokes, twining strands around his knuckles like a lover counting blessings. The afterglow clung to them like incense. Sacred. Sticky. Sweet. "I know you," she murmured softly. His fingers paused, just for a moment. Then: "Yes." A beat of silence passed between them, heavy as stone. "But I don't understand how." Her voice wavered. She tilted her head slightly to look up at him, to meet those unreadable, starlit eyes. He gazed back down at her as if she were made of all the things he'd spent a thousand years chasing. Her fingers danced along his ribs. "You said we were t