Page 108 of Cursed Dreams
Thalia gave him a look, but Nyla murmured, “It could be a marker. A grave site or boundary stone. If it’s real, maybe it’s the edge of the forest.”
Thalia sat back, rubbing her eyes. She was tired. Her whole body ached from a long hospital rotation earlier that day, and she hadn’t seen Caelum in weeks, not since the night of passion they shared that perfect night which was subsequently destroyed by Vaelith , who had turned out to be a thing of nightmares. She burned with the need to find him. To save him. She missed him with an ache that left her breathless in quiet moments. At night she curled into bed and closed her eyes, heart silently begging for him to find her again. Sometimes, she swore she felt him watching her in her dreams. Sometimes, she swore Vaelith was there too which should have terrified her more than it did. And the more days passed without a breakthrough, the more that old frustration bubbled beneath her calm.
“What if we’re wrong?” she said suddenly, voice sharper than she meant. “What if we’re chasing shadows? I keep thinkingsomething will jump out at us, but maybe we’re just… wasting time.”
A beat of silence passed.
Then Cellen leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers behind his head, and said, “Nah.”
Thalia blinked. “That’s it? ‘Nah’?”
He grinned. “Look, I’m not the smartest one here. That’s probably Nyla, or Marand when she’s had caffeine. But I know what people look like when they’re chasing something real. And you, Thal, you’re chasing something that’s practically humming off your skin.”
Marand added softly, “You haven’t been wrong yet.”
Thalia exhaled slowly. A knot of tension unwound just slightly in her chest. She looked down at the line again.
The shadows remember even what the world forgets.
“I’m going to copy this,” she said. “It might mean nothing. But it might also be our first real lead.”
Nyla nodded, already flipping through her own text. “Let’s look for more mentions of shrines. Forgotten gods. Anything tied to shadow and silence.”
Thalia dipped her pen in ink and began to write.
The evening air clung to her skin like mist as Thalia approached the Temple of Amara, her steps hesitant but determined. She hadn’t seen Caelum since the night Vaelith interrupted their dream. No glowing forests. No whispered promises. Just silence. The still, aching kind that made her wonder if he was even still out there, trapped behind the veil and unable to reach her. But tonight… tonight she would try again. She needed to feelthat connection. To know he was still with her, even if only in dreams.
The temple’s great doors shimmered in the golden light of the sconces, casting warm illumination over the stones. For a moment, she let the sight soothe her. She looked around, then stopped dead. Leaning against the left column of the entrance like a statue carved from shadow and silver, Vaelith stood unmoving, arms crossed, eyes glittering in the torchlight. His pale hair caught the flicker of the flames, making him look even more otherworldly, less man, more dangerous creature. Thalia froze breath catching in her throat. He was guarding the temple.
No. Guarding me from it.
A jolt of panic surged through her chest, and she ducked behind a stone archway, heart hammering. Had he followed her? Was he always watching? She peeked around the pillar. He hadn't seen her. Not yet. She turned and ran, her footsteps as quiet as she could manage on the cobblestones, trying not to let her fear spill over into full-blown panic. All thoughts of Caelum, of the peace she'd looked for, were gone, replaced with the sharp memory of molten gold eyes, of fire curling beneath skin, and fear. She didn’t stop until she reached the hallway near her dormitory, lungs burning. Before she could open the door, shadows peeled back. He strode out of the darkness, every step purposeful, the shadows clinging to him until the last moment.
“Don’t go back there,” Vaelith said, voice low, sharp with anger. “Don’t dream walk with him again.”
Thalia whirled, backing into the wall near her door. “What—how did you—?”
“I told you he was dangerous. You didn’t listen. Now I see you’re willing to risk everything just to touch him again.”
“I risk nothing with him,” she snapped, though her voice trembled. “He’s never hurt me. You’re the one who keeps showing up in the dark, hiding truths, twisting warnings into threats.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re being played.”
“You said that before,” she hissed. “And I didn’t believe you then either.”
Vaelith stepped closer, shadows clinging to his boots as though reluctant to leave him. “You don’t know what he is.”
“I know what you are,” she threw back. “I’ve read the histories. I know what dragons are—what they do.”
His face went stone-still.
She continued, “Power-hungry. Deceitful. They tried to steal the gods' magic and burn the world down when they couldn’t have it.”
“Lies,” Vaelith growled, stepping forward. His hand lashed out, not in violence but in desperation, fingers closing around her wrist.
“Don’t touch me,” she cried, her voice shook now.
He stared down at her, his fury so strong she could feel it on her skin.
