The golden threads gleam in the darkness, thin as silk, delicate as whispers, yet stronger than any chain. They stretch before me, weaving through the nothingness, pulsing in time with the frantic beat of my heart.Binds of Fate. Threads of magic that only mates can see, spun from the fabric of destiny itself, a tether between two souls meant to find each other in life, in death, and beyond.
I saw them that day, when I first set eyes on Amara in the Grove. Now, they lead me to her.
My breath is ragged as I move forward, my steps soundless against the nothingness beneath me. The threads shimmer like stardust, guiding me, pulling me through the void. But in the corner of my eye, I see them.
Demons of smoke and shadow.
They hover in the darkness, stalking, watching. Their jagged-toothed mouths hang open, drool thick and shining, their hollow eyes fixed on me. Their hunger is palpable, a gnawing presence in the air, their talons twitching in anticipation. But they do not lunge. They do not attack.
And more troubling still, they have not summoned him.
Our master.
A chill slithers down my spine, colder than the void itself. Why do they hesitate? Why do they wait?
I do not waste time questioning. If I remain undiscovered, it is a mercy I will not squander. Every moment here is a risk, and I will not give them time to reconsider their inaction.
Amara needs me.
I grip the golden threads tighter and push forward, faster now, chasing the echo of her voice. I feel her pain through the tether, a cry in the dark that sets my soul ablaze.
The closer I get, the more desperate her cries become. Every muscle in my body is wound tight, stretched past its limits, but it’s still not fast enough, not when her next words hit me like a blade to the gut.
“Daedalus! Help me! Our baby!”
The world narrows to that single, fractured plea. Nothing has ever sliced through me so deep, so violently. My blood turns molten, my veins searing with the force of my desperation. My legs burn as I push harder, faster, void-walking in reckless bursts. The threads between us pulse like a heartbeat, dragging me forward. My hands claw at the air.I will rip through the very fabric of this realm if I have to.
My body is nothing. My pain is nothing. If it means getting to her, I would run until my bones shattered, until my lungs bled, until my very soul burned itself out. I will tear through every demon that dares to stand between us.
Iwillreach her.
And I willdestroyanything that threatens what’s mine.
The golden threads coil through the darkness, weaving around a figure bathed in their glow, and my heart both shatters and mends in the same breath. She is here. Every step forward is agony, every heartbeat a war between relief and terror.
I void-walk again, stepping through the abyss to emerge at her side. The moment I do, her scent engulfs me.Hers.No soaps, no oils, no perfumes. Justher.The scent I feared I’d never breathe again, the one that lingered on my sheets long after she had gone, that clung to my skin the first time our bodies tangled in Pariseth, slick and burning, mouths desperate, limbs shaking. But beneath that, something sharp, something wrong.
Blood.
Fresh. Hot. Spilling too fast.
Ashen drifts forward, eyes hollow, paws dragging, bewitched by the dark force that still calls to him. I seize a fistful of his smoky mane, wrenching him to a stop, and he lets out a startled grunt. But my attention is already locked elsewhere.
A scent. A presence.A man.
I drag my gaze upward and see him. The one holding her.
The Golden Son.
Our eyes collide, and for a moment, time bends, thick with a silence that could shatter mountains, turn tides, split the sky in two.
Rage surges through me, the taste of blood sharp on my tongue. My canines lengthen, my breath shortens, my fists clench so tight I might break my own bones. This glare is one of war, of unfinished battles, of violence yet to come.
But even my fury must wait.
Because Amara is in pain.My Amara.And that matters more than anything.
I reach out, brushing my fingers against her skin. She is warm, tingling against my touch.
