Page 36 of Sundered By Fate

"Davin, I?—"

Aric's breath caught in his throat, the confession he needed to make refusing to come. Because what if he did tell Davin? What if he told him everything—about Malekith, about the blood pact that burned like molten chains around his chest, about the things he'd done and felt? What if he revealed the darkness that had taken root in his heart?

Would Davin still look at him with such softness? Or would he see only the monster he'd become?

Their proximity was intoxicating, Davin's scent wrapping around Aric like a garden at dawn. Part of him longed to close the distance between them—to lose himself in the familiar warmth that once called to him, long ago. But even as he yearned for it, he knew it was a cruel illusion.

There was no going back to the life he once knew.

Aric tore his gaze away, staring out over the city. "I'm not who you think I am," he said, voice rough.

But Davin reached out, his fingers brushing against Aric's chin and forcing him to look back. "You're exactly who I think you are. And nothing will ever change that."

Just as Aric was about to respond, a flood of images and emotions overwhelmed him. Fear. Pain. A desperate warning. A sense of something vast and ancient looming in the shadows.

Beware the shadow in the court.

Aric gasped, stumbling back, and Davin reacted instantly, catching him before he fell. Fleeting, their bodies were pressed close, faces inches apart. Davin's breath gusted against his cheek, hear the thrum of his heart racing in time with Aric's own.

"Davin—" Aric started, but the connection was too intense, too all-consuming. He was being drawn into it, like a current pulling him under.

And then he was drowning in it—visions flashing before his eyes, memories and images colliding with no rhyme or reason. He saw the Silver Tower's gleaming turrets shrouded in darkness, heard the anguished cries of voices he recognized but couldn't place.

The shadow has eyes.

The connection snapped like a taut cord, sending Aric reeling back. But Davin's grip on him remained firm, an anchor in the storm.

"Aric!" Davin's voice was a distant echo through the haze. "Aric, what's happening?"

"It's nothing," Aric insisted, pulling back despite the wrenching pain in his chest. "I just—I'm exhausted. I need to rest."

Davin's brow furrowed with concern, but he released his hold on Aric, stepping back to give him space. "Are you sure? If there's anything?—"

"I promise, it's nothing." Aric made himself grin, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt. "I'm just . . . I'm still adjusting to being back, is all."

Davin studied him, as if trying to see past the facade. "All right. But if you need anything—anything at all—come to me, promise?"

"I will." Aric's voice was softer now, the steel gone from it. "Thank you, Davin."

With one last searching look, Davin turned and left, leaving Aric alone with the remnants of the vision still clinging to him like smoke.

Aric lay awake in the massive bed, staring at the canopy overhead. Outside, Astaria slept—an ocean of dreams shifting under the starlit sky. He longed to reach through the veil of sleep and touch the life he'd left behind, but it slipped through his fingers every time.

The sigil on his back pulsed with a dull ache. He ran his fingers over it, wishing he could will it into motion, call out to the bond between them. But no matter how hard he tried, the threads unraveled before he could grasp them.

Malekith's name hung on his lips. His laughter, his piercing stare, the way his voice wrapped around him like smoke. Aric closed his eyes, willing himself to remember every detail, every nuance. But they were fading fast, slipping away into the dark.

He thought of the visions he'd seen—the shadowed figures lurking at the edges of his mind. Were they memories? Portents? Or simply phantoms conjured by his own guilt and fear?

He needed to know Malekith was safe. That their bond remained unbroken, even across the realms that separated them.

"Please," Aric whispered into the night. "Please be all right."

Silence answered him back.

The sigil ached once more, a hollow echo through his bones. No visions or dreams; no sense of their bond pulling tight. Just an empty void where Malekith's presence used to be, and the faint, distant echo of the warnings he'd heard.

Beware the shadows in the court.

---