Page 60 of Cursed Dreams
A slow, deliberate blink, he stepped towards her.
Thalia’s pulse skipped as he stared her down, his silver eyes gleaming like cut steel. "What did you just say?"
She swallowed hard but didn’t back down.
"I know you have celestial magic," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper now. "It’s the only explanation. And that means you’re either High Fae or descended from them."
Vaelith’s face twisted ,disgust, disbelief, something else entirely flashing across his features.
"High Fae?" His voice was flat, cold, almost mocking. “You think I’m High Fae?”
Thalia’s breath caught, not just from the look on his face, but from the way he spat the words.
Like they were poison in his mouth.
She didn’t understand, didn’t understand the sheer weight behind the way his jaw ticked, the way his nostrils flared, the way his shoulders looked tense enough to snap. Silence ensued between them.
When he spoke again, his voice was low and quiet, his silver eyes darker than she had ever seen them.
“You haveno ideawhat you’re talking about.”
He turned from her, with a heavy sigh, he dragged a hand down his face, exhaustion lining his features. For the first time since she had known him, he looked tired
He stared at her, his silver eyes sharp, unreadable, his broad frame tense as if weighing something heavy.
"You're wrong."
Thalia’s stomach twisted.
His voice wasn’t mocking or cruel, there was no smirk, no teasing lilt to his words. He said it plainly, firmly, as though it was a truth he had carried for a long time.
"My powers are different," he continued, his tone even, unyielding. "And they are no concern of yours."
Thalia clenched her fists. "You can’t expect me to just ignore what I saw, what Ifelt. I know I’m not imagining things, Vaelith. I know, "
"You know nothing," he cut in, sounding exasperated, like this was an argument he had fought before.
The room felt smaller, closer, like the weight of what was unspoken pressed against them both, before she could fire back, before she could demand answers, he surprised her.
“I once heard of an illness like this,”
She froze, afraid he would stop talking and leave her in the dark once again.
His silver eyes were distant now, as though looking beyond her, beyond the room, beyond this very moment.
"It was just a story," he continued, his voice low, measured, as if reluctant to even speak the words. "Something my father told me when I was a boy. A tale, nothing more."
Thalia latched onto his every word, her pulse thrumming.
"But even if it were true," he said, his gaze locking onto hers once more, "you have no way of getting what you need to heal Aric."
"Tell me anyway."
Vaelith exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Thalia..."
"Tell me." She was pleading now, desperate, clutching at whatever thread of hope remained.
He watched her for a long, agonizing moment. Then, with clear reluctance, he spoke.
