Page 82 of Cursed Dreams
Vaelith’s expression shifted again, pulling the mask of composure back over his features like a shroud. He straightened his shoulders, adjusted the folds of his cloak.
The only sign of what had just happened was the faint tremble in his jaw.
“I’ll take you to your room,” he said quietly.
“Vaelith—”
He held up a hand. Not harshly. But final. He stepped toward her, cautiously, like approaching a frightened animal. His arms came around her, not possessive, not passionate. Just… gentle. Careful. A protector shielding what he could not keep.
The shadows closed in around them, wrapping them in that familiar sensation of dark and wind, the strange pull of his magic brushing against her skin like silk. They stepped out into a darkened corridor, the wall just beside her shared room with Nyla, he let her go.
Thalia turned toward him, heart lodged in her throat. “Vaelith—”
But he was already gone.
The shadows swallowed him before she could say another word. She was left standing in silence. Alone. Torn between fire and starlight, heart and duty, shadow and dream and not a single answer to hold on to.
Thalia opened the door to her room quietly, hoping to slip in unnoticed, but the soft lamplight still glowed from the far side of the space, casting warm golden tones across the stone floor.
Nyla was sprawled sideways across her bed, a cup in hand and a flushed glow to her cheeks. Her eyes lifted lazily when the door creaked, and a wide grin stretched across her face.
“Well, look who finally came home,” she announced, voice slurred just enough to betray the wine on her breath. She sat up, wobbling slightly, then pointed a finger at Thalia like she’d just won a prize. “I take it my little intervention worked?”
Thalia blinked, frozen in place, still shaken from everything that had happened.
Nyla beamed. “Don’t thank me all at once,” she said with mock modesty. “I just figured if Vaelith was going to keep playing histwisted, cryptic, mindfuckery games with you, he might as well have the decency to fix the damn mess himself.” She lifted her cup in a one-woman toast. “You’re welcome.”
Thalia’s vision blurred. Her fingers gripped the strap of her satchel so tightly her knuckles turned white. A sob tore from her lips before she could stop it, her knees buckling as the weight of everything, Caelum, Vaelith, the bond, the magic, the confusion, the guilt, came crashing down all at once.
Nyla dropped her cup, the ceramic clinking loudly against the stone as she scrambled off her bed and rushed to Thalia’s side.
“Gods, Thal—Thalia! What happened?” she gasped, catching her just before she hit the floor. “Hey, hey, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Thalia collapsed into her arms, sobs shaking her whole frame. Nyla gently guided her to the edge of the bed, lowering them both down, her arms wrapping tight around her friend’s trembling body.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Nyla muttered fiercely, stroking her hair. “I swear to the goddess, I’ll find him, and I’ll stick a feverweed salve where no one wants feverweed.”
Thalia let out a broken, watery laugh between sobs, clinging to her.
Nyla rocked her gently. “What did he do, Thal? What did that cold bastard say to you?”
“It’s not him,” Thalia sobbed, voice muffled against Nyla’s shoulder. “It’s me. It’s all my fault. I, I messed everything up. I’m so confused”
“He poured his heart out to me and I... Gods, I hurt him, he looked so broken”
Her heart pounded painfully. Guilt and longing warred inside her chest like a storm, ripping her in two. Nyla pulled back just enough to cup Thalia’s cheeks, her own eyes glassy now, too. “Hey. No. No, Thalia. You’re allowed to be confused. You’re allowed to feel. That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”
Thalia shook her head, tears streaking her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I don’t even know what’s happening anymore. It’s just, too much.”
Nyla hugged her again, tight and protective. “Then we figure it out. Together. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?”
Thalia nodded slowly, eyes closing, letting herself lean fully into her friend’s embrace.
She didn’t have the answers. Not yet, but in this moment, with Nyla holding her close and whispering soft, angry promises to hurt anyone who made her cry she knew she wasn’t alone
The next morning came with dull grey light and an ache behind Thalia’s eyes. She hadn’t dreamed. She sat slumped at the breakfast table in the communal dining hall, nursing a mug of sweet tea, her face half-buried in the steam. Nyla sat glued to her side like a mother hen, radiating don’t you dare energy at anyone who so much as glanced in Thalia’s direction for too long. Across the table, Cellen leaned in with a slow grin. “So…” He glanced at Thalia’s face and raised a brow. “Did the shadows under your eyes gain sentience, or are you just trying out a new look? ”Thalia groaned, burying her face in her hands.
“Cellen!” Nyla snapped, dropping her spoon with a sharp clatter. “Say one more thing about her face and I’ll shove your boots so far down your throat you’ll be coughing up laces.”
