29.

  Ash

  The evening was unnervingly quiet when I rode in, the kind of silence that makes the air hum, heavy with what’s about to break. The scent of rain lingered, sharp and metallic, clinging to my tongue. Every shadow of the forest seemed to hold its breath as I reached the edge of the old homestead.

  The power pulsing in my veins, the Fiend’s gift, made the world sharpen at its edges. Every sound, every flicker of movement, was alive. It was intoxicating. I had never felt so certain of my strength… nor so terrified of what I might find.

  I dismounted, breath ragged, the reins slipping from my hands as I ran. The door creaked open at my touch, and before I could call out, a voice broke through the stillness.

  “Ash?”

  Azurian stood there, smaller than I remembered, though he was in his teenage years. His eyes, once bright and full of mischief, had dulled into something older than fourteen years should ever hold.

  When he stumbled into my arms, his body trembled like he’d been carrying the world alone.

  “I tried,” he whispered. “I tried to look after them, like you said.”

  The words struck me like arrows.

  “Where are mom and Maeve?” My voice was barely understandable, more breath than speech. Tears welled in his eyes, and that was all the answer I needed. The air left my lungs. The world tilted.

  I pushed past him and took the stairs two at a time. Every step was a lifetime. Every heartbeat, a countdown to the truth I refused to face.

  The door to my mother’s room was ajar. Candlelight flickered weakly against the walls. The scent of lavender mixed with something faintly metallic.

  Wrong. All wrong.

  And them I saw them. The bed was strewn with flowers, their petals withered and brown at the edges. My mother’s silver hair spilled across the pillow like moonlight. Beside her lay Maeve, so small, so still, her hands folded as though she were merely sleeping.

  The sound that tore from my chest didn’t feel human. I fell to my knees, clutching my mother’s shoulders. “Mom… Maeve… Please,” I begged, shaking her as though I could wake her through sheer will. “I came back. I came back. Don’t leave me. Don’t…”

  My voice broke. My hands trembled. Tears blurred the world until all I saw were the outlines of what I’d lost.

  It was pain beyond words. A primal, shattering grief that hollows you out and fills the space with fire. My mind refused to believe what my heart already knew.

  The Fiend’s strength still throbbed in my veins, mocking me with its power. Too late… too useless.

  A promise burned itself into the ruins of my soul. He would pay for this. One way or another. Two strong hands grasped my shoulders. My father’s.

  He pulled me close, no words spoken. My sobs soaked through his shirt, his trembling heartbeat echoing against my ear. We stayed like that. Two broken men bound by loss, holding on to the pieces of what was once our family. And for the first time since making the deal, I wished the Fiend had taken my soul entirely. It might have spared me this pain.

  ? ? ?

  I woke with tears already burning my eyes, staring up at the empty ceiling of what once had been a warm and gentle home. Fifteen years… yet the memory still reached for me like a ghost that refused to fade, dragging me back into the excruciating pain of that day.

  Beside me, Spook stirred, a faint shiver running through him in the darkness. Was he cold?

  I tugged the blanket higher over his shoulders, fingers trembling slightly. Maeve would’ve been his age now. Twenty-five.

  A lifetime stolen from her and yet she was always present in the shadows that touched my heart. I wondered if she would’ve found love by now. Would there have been a child with her eyes and her laughter echoing through the house?

  That last thought drifted toward Faelwen before I could stop it. What would our child have looked like had he or she made it? Maybe one day we will meet our child.

  She was curled up beside me, soft and quiet, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that anchored me. At her feet, Artemis slept curled tight, ever watchful.

  His golden eyes opened as if sensing my thoughts, catching the faint light and holding it. For a breath, I felt that gaze reach into me.

  Steady and knowing like a parent’s hand on a trembling shoulder. There was a warmth in his gaze that made me feel seen, cared for. He rose, padded over, and settled at my feet. His warmth flowed through me, chasing away the chill. One heartbeat at a time, until the tears came again. It was such a small act, yet it said everything to me: I’ll sit with you in the dark, it’s okay. You don’t have to carry this all by yourself.

  I drew Faelwen closer, wrapping my arm around her. The scent of forest and summer eve wrapped around me like a warm blanket. And slowly, my eyes drifted closed again.

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  ? ? ?

  Faelwen

  The fiery pain in my abdomen burned hotter with every step I took. Like molten steel poured into my veins, pulsing in waves of fire that stole the breath from my lungs.

  Something was wrong. This wasn’t how my body usually felt when my moon cycle began. I thought back to what the Fiend had said: “Pay attention to your health. If you feel unwell, seek a trained healer and tell them what happened between us.”

  Why had he said that? What had he done to me? He couldn’t have damaged my body, could he? I wasn’t even in my body. It was my soul that travelled. Wandered to a different place.

  Another surge of agony doubled me over. My vision blurred. I needed a healer. Now.

  But when I looked around, all I saw was the dim outline of the house’s back garden, still and cold beneath a misted sky.

  The world felt too quiet, the edges of things not quite real. Am I dreaming?

  A sudden movement drew my attention. Hooves on a hardened pathway. A young man leapt from his horse, worry carved deep into his face as he ran toward the house.

  I shrank against the wall, heart pounding. His features caught the light and my breath froze.

  Ash.

  But younger… so much younger. His hair. His face. His fire. All the same, yet unmarked by years.

  Then it hit me like a flash of lightning through a darkened cloud. I was inside his dream!

  “O no…” the words barely formed. “I need to get out of here.”

  I was dream walking again. And I needed to get out. Fast. I pictured myself before the fireplace. Wrapped in old blankets, Spook nearby, Ash sleeping close. The warmth of the fire kissing my skin, yet the pull I felt when the Fiend send me back toward my body never came. Panic clawed its way up my throat.

  Normally I either woke up through pain, a jump-scare or because of someone who dragged me back to my body.

  I tried pinching myself.

  Nothing.

  The world didn’t waver. Desperation drove me toward the shed. My hands found a thin metal pin. I pressed it into my palm. Sharp pain bloomed, blood dripping on the ground. Still nothing.

  “Shit…” I whispered, trembling. “What now?”

  Aeon Tempus.

  If anyone could help, it was him. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine him. His stillness, his white eyes, that calm that tasted of eternity.

  My thoughts began to blur, sounds grew distant as if they were calling from the end of a long tunnel. I clutched my head, fighting to hold onto myself. The world shifted.

  The scent of earth and meadow dissolved into warmth and parchment. When my vision cleared, I stood before a fire-lit room. Books lining the shelves, a soft rug beneath my feet, and a comfortable chair waiting by the hearth. Two steady hands caught my shoulders, guiding me into it.

  “I should really teach you how to control this mind wandering,” Aeon murmured his voice low and distant.

  “My stomach...” I winced. “It aches.”

  Concern flickered across his calm features.

  “Have you wounded yourself? Has something harmed your body?”

  I shook my head weakly and told him everything, about what happened with the Fiend, the words he’d spoken and the strange wrongness in me.

  Aeon listened without interruption, but I saw worry deepen in the lines of his expression.

  When I finished, he sighed.

  “I believe I have something for your pain. I’m sorry, Faelwen. He must have been… too harsh.”

  He opened a wooden chest, drawing out a small sachet that carried the scent of rosemary, lavender and thyme. Pouring hot water into a mug, he stirred the herbs with slow, deliberate motions before placing both in my hands.

  “Drink this once a day,” he said softly. “It will dull the pain and help your body heal.”

  The tea’s warmth slid through me like gentle sunlight, easing the storm in my belly.

  “You know what surprises me?” I whispered before taking a sip of the tea. “He almost seemed…. Remorseful. I never thought him capable of that.”

  Aeon lowered himself into a chair across from me, folding his hands.

  “Not all dark creatures are without feeling,” he said. “They experience emotions differently. Where love twists into possession, fear curdles into wrath. The Fiend… he loved your mother. Blindly. Destructively. Even if it wasn’t reciprocal. Hurting you may have felt to him like hurting her. A punishment meant for himself.”

  His words settled like stones in a riverbed. I remembered the visions of my parents in the Underworld. The fury in the Fiend’s eyes, yes, but behind it something raw, something close to sadness stirred.

  The pain he must’ve felt when he noticed the bond forming between my parents. Still, anger flared inside me.

  “That doesn’t excuse him,” I said. “He crossed a line.”

  “He did,” Aeon agreed, voice heavy. “And he will learn from it. In time.”

  His white eyes turned toward me, piercing but kind.

  “But don’t let anger and vengeance cloud your judgement, Faelwen. Don’t make the same mistakes as your enemy. Follow your own path. His end will come by fate’s design, not wrath’s hand.”

  Before I could answer, a familiar warmth brushed my thoughts.

  “It has already begun, little one,” a voice murmured.

  “Buddy?” I turned, relief breaking through me like sunlight after rain. “How did you find me?”

  Artemis padded closer, his golden eyes gleaming with gentle amusement. “Aeon told me you where here. Morning’s close and I’ve come to bring you home.”

  “How did you even get here?”

  He gave me a small huff, the wolf’s version of a laugh. “Better question is, how do we stop you form wandering off again, Wen?”

  Aeon smiled faintly.

  “I can help with that,” he said, leaning forward. “You’ll need to learn grounding, how to keep your soul tethered to your body when you fall asleep.”

  I nodded, listening as Artemis settled beside me, his fur warm against my leg. My fingers found his ears, absently stroking like I always did.

  “A soul and a body are not the same,” he explained. “The soul can travel and leave the body behind for a time. We call it soul wandering. You called it dream walking because you often do it when you’re sleeping. Most mortal creatures never learn to do it consciously. But those who do must learn to return and ground themselves. For example, imprinting your surroundings. Not just with your eyes, but with all your senses. That will guide you back. Or imagine a safe place right before you fall asleep to avoid wandering at all. It will activate your imagination and you’ll brain will actively try to pursue that instead of disconnecting your soul to go to places you think of in the moment.”

  “It sounds simpler than it is,” I murmured.

  Aeon’s quite chuckle warmed the air.

  “It always does.”

  He helped me to my feet, and the edge of the room began to dissolve into white. Artemis brushed against me, steady and sure.

  “Thank you Aeon, again,” I said and he smiled in return. With a last look at Aeon fading from sight, I followed Artemis back to my body.

  “I’m starting to wonder, buddy,” I turned to Artemis, “if you’re not more than who you say you are.”

  He looked up at me, eyes bright with some ancient knowing.

  “If you mean more than an ordinary wolf, then yes. But I’ll always be your buddy, Wen. No matter what I am.”

  “For we are pack,” I whispered, smiling through the fading light. “I’m glad I’ve got you buddy. I never would’ve survived this journey without you.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Wen,” he said with quiet pride, “From what I’ve learned seeing you grow up is that you’re a tough cookie. When you’re faced with hard times, you go right through it. Even if it hurts. And that, little one, is brave.”