Page 44 of Sundered By Fate

They collapsed together, a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and racing hearts. Malekith's head rested on Aric's chest, his breath hot against Aric's skin as he fought to catch his breath.

For a long moment, they simply lay there, basking in the afterglow of their passion. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Aric felt truly at peace, truly home.

But even as he clung to Malekith, even as he savored the feeling of the demon prince's skin against his own, Aric knew that this moment could not last. There were still dangers lurking in the shadows, still battles to be fought and challenges to be overcome.

Sated and enamored, they lazed together in a tangle of sheets, Aric nestled against the curve of Malekith's body like he'd always belonged there. With their initial fever abated, his mind had room now for things other than passion, memories slinking back on stealthy paws.

"Malekith." He brushed a stray lock of hair from the demon's brow. "What happened to you? After I left Drindal?"

Malekith shifted, eyes finding Aric's with painful clarity. "I . . . I'm not certain." He cast a glance at the room around them, faint lines etched into his brow.

"The visions," Aric pressed, ignoring the cold twist forming in his gut. "Where they kept you in chains—bound with iron—" It came out in a rush, unstoppable now that he'd begun.

"What?" The confusion on Malekith's face seemed so genuine, Aric faltered. But he had to know. Had to.

"In a cell," he said softly. "Being tortured?—"

Malekith blinked at him, disbelief painting his features. "No," he said slowly. "That never happened."

"Are you sure?" Aric gripped his shoulders harder than he intended, trying to hold back the tide of truth pressing at him. "I felt it—lived it, over and over again—I thought you might have been trapped somewhere that I couldn't reach?—"

Malekith shook his head like someone awakening from a particularly bad dream.

"No," Malekith insisted—as if he was trying to convince himself. "No, that's not?—"

Aric reached up to stroke his cheek with the back of one hand. "What happened?" he asked again. But now he feared the answer more than ever before.

As Aric pressed on, the dreamscape around them grew more unstable. The shadows crept closer, dark tendrils curling toward them with palpable menace. The room itself seemed to waver and bend, like a reflection on disturbed water.

Malekith's confusion turned to frustration and then fear as he glanced around at the darkening chamber. He pulled away from Aric, movements becoming erratic as if he were trying to distance himself from an unseen threat.

"Please, tell me," Aric urged, reaching for him, though he couldn't blame Malekith for wanting to escape these visions too. "I need to know?—"

"I—I don't remember." Malekith's voice was strained, edged with panic. "It's all a haze—I don't know what's real?—"

His eyes found Aric's again, and Aric's heart twisted at the sheer terror he saw there. This wasn't the powerful demon prince who'd towered over him with unshakable confidence. This was a man unraveling at the seams.

"Malekith," Aric said softly, and took his hands, thumb brushing over his knuckles. "Whatever's happening—whatever's coming—I swear I'll be with you through it."

Malekith shuddered at his touch, some of the tension leeching out of him. He leaned into Aric's touch with an aching vulnerability that made Aric's chest constrict.

"I'll protect you," Aric said fervently. "Like you protected me."

But no sooner did he speak the words did he feel them slipping away from him.

Malekith shivered against him, and Aric felt something else—something dark and heavy coiling around the edges of Malekith's mind. A presence that made his own golden magic recoil.

"A shadow," Malekith murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I . . . I warned you of a shadow, did I not?"

Aric's stomach dropped. "Yes. You did." He pulled back to meet Malekith's gaze, the sharpness of his own fear cutting through the haze of his dream. "What did you mean by it? Who or what is this shadow you fear?"

Malekith's eyes grew distant, a haunted look flitting across his features. "I don't . . ."

"Was it Sylthris?" Aric pressed. "I saw her at the palace. What's she doing here? Is that what you were trying to warn me about?"

He let out a choked cry and fell back into Aric's arms, face twisting in pain.

"Malekith!" Aric cried out, catching him as he crumpled. "Malekith, what's wrong?—?"

---