Page 80 of Sundered By Fate

First he wanted to laugh, laugh and laugh at the cruelty of it all. They had been here too, and somehow, through blood, grief, and so much desperation, Aric had found his way back; all so that they could be torn apart.

Then he wanted to weep. To weep for all the threads of fate that had brought them here, to this terrible moment.

Malekith.

General Malekith of House Ixion.

His former captor.

His lover.

A thousand memories crashed over Aric all at once. The first time they'd met, the hatred burning in those dark eyes. The nights they'd spent locked in a battle of wills, each trying to outmaneuver the other. The moments of tenderness they'd shared, those rare glimpses behind the mask. The physical ache of waking up without him. The raw, bleeding wound that had never fully healed in his absence.

And now he was here, right in front of Aric, Malekith whom he'd come this far to not let down, and he couldn't even make himself move.

But then Malekith stepped forward, and Aric's heart stopped.

There was nothing in the inky depths of his stare. No recognition. No thought. Nothing at all.

Twenty-One

Aric stumbled back, struggling to keep his balance in the shifting ruins of the throne room. Malekith—General Malekith, Prince of House Ixion—stared at him, but there was no recognition in his eyes. Nothing but coldness and hatred.

The air was thick with dust and smoke, the acrid stench of burned magic and the remnants of the explosion sizzling around the edges of the hole in the palace wall. Aric's heart was a deafening roar in his ears, drowning out the panicked shouts of the guards, the cries of the advisers as they fled.

Malekith took a step toward him, and Aric's body moved on instinct, his feet carrying him forward. He had waited so long for this moment, for the chance to see him again, to ask him all the questions that had haunted him for so long. Why had he left? What had happened in the demon realm after Aric had fled back to the human world? Had their time together meant anything, or had it all been a lie?

But as he drew closer, Malekith's expression didn't change. If anything, the hatred in his eyes only deepened.

Aric's chest felt like it was caving in. The agony was almost visceral, a physical wound opening inside him. He had thoughthe was prepared for anything—another fight, more lies, even a cruel dismissal. But this . . . this was like dying all over again.

"Malekith," he choked out, his voice cracking. "Please?—"

Malekith's hand shot out, and Aric flinched, expecting a blow. But instead, Malekith grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, yanking him close. Aric's hands went to Malekith's chest, trying to push him away, but the demon's grip was iron.

"Stay out of our way, human."

The words were a low, venomous hiss, Malekith's breath hot against Aric's skin. And then he was gone, the grip on Aric's collar vanishing, the scent of smoke and blood still lingering between them.

Aric stumbled forward, his mind a whirl of confusion and hurt. He reached for Malekith, but the demon prince was already turning, striding out through the gaping hole in the wall, into the night beyond.

"No," Aric’s voice was a broken whisper. "No, you can't?—"

He started after him, his boots crunching on the debris-strewn floor. But the palace was still shuddering around them, bits of stone and wood raining down, the air thick with the smoke of burning magic.The energy of the rifts called to him, the tear between their worlds, and a part of him wanted to reach for it, to test if it were the same.

But he couldn't think about that now. He had to reach Malekith, had to make him remember who he was.

"Malekith!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Please, listen to me?—"

The demon paused, his silhouette framed in the jagged edge of the portal. And then he turned back, his eyes meeting Aric's.

For a moment, Aric's heart dared to hope. But then Malekith's expression hardened, the fury and hatred all the more brutal for their return.

"I have work to do," Malekith said, and then he was stepping through the crack in the wall, the darkness swallowing him whole.

Aric felt himself shatter.

Aric scrambled to his feet, the debris of the shattered throne room clutching at his legs, pulling him down. He kicked it away, forcing himself upright, but the palace seemed to tilt around him, the world off-kilter and wrong.

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