“Because you are the one I want most, Cillian.” Her voice was barely a whisper now, intimate and intoxicating. “If I tell you my name… will you let me stay?”
Curiosity coiled around him. “That’s all you want? To stay here with me?”
Her thumb brushed along his cheek, featherlight, coaxing. “Yes, Cillian. That is all I want. To be with you.”
His body betrayed him. Heat coiled low in his stomach, a pulse of want he couldn’t push down. He swallowed hard, but she saw it, felt it, because she laughed softly.
“I can hear your thoughts.” She leaned in, lips nearly brushing his. “I can feel your wants.”
Something in him snapped. His hands moved without thought, gripping her hips and pulling her down onto his lap. She gasped, though it was not surprise. It was delight.
“Tell me your name.” His voice was low.
“My name is Vaelora.”
He whispered it, his voice tinged with something dark and hungry. “Vaelora.”
Then her lips met his. And he let himself want it.
His hands slid up her waist, fingers digging into silk and skin as the kiss consumed him. Heat, need, and something unrelenting surged through him. The world narrowed, thoughts slipping away, unraveling, dissolving into her. And then—
A void crept through him, pulling him under. His mind unraveled, slipping through his grasp like water through cupped hands. Too late, he understood.
She was a distraction. The perfect lure to make him lower his guard, allowing the darkness within him to seize control of his mind, body, and soul. He could feel himself slipping, reality unraveling with every breath. It all made sense. The visions hadn’t been warnings; they’d been clues. And Vaelora must have known he was close to uncovering the truth.
That was when Evelyne stepped into the library, her face shadowed with worry. A desperate instinct to fight back and rip the parasitic darkness from his mind flared within him. But the moment he resisted, the darkness snapped shut around him, a faint thread of glowing light slipping through the cracks just before everything faded to black.
Chapter 23
They had been on the road for an entire day now. The carriage rattled over gravel and broken twigs, the rhythmic creaking of its wheels filling the silence between them. Evelyne had spoken little to Alaric, preferring to bury herself in the books she had packed, her eyes often drifting to the passing landscape beyond the window. The monotony of the journey weighed on her, but she found some comfort in the steady movement of the carriage and the quiet that accompanied it.
Alaric’s driver, Reuben, was just as silent, speaking only when necessary. They had stopped twice to stretch their legs and relieve themselves, but nothing more. Their only provisions were dried snacks, enough to keep them going but hardly satisfying. Evelyne’s stomach twisted in protest. She needed real food.
Alaric hadn’t tried to speak to her, but she felt his glances, saw the way his mouth would part as if to say something, only to shut again. His attention was often drawn to the enchanted map in his hands; a gift from Lord and Lady Shaw of Velenshire. Alaric had told her that the map would reveal dark magic, staining the parchment black whenever it lurked nearby. So far, it remained unchanged. A small mercy.
They followed the trail toward the first trade outpost, situated at the northeastern edge of Velenshire, just before Mokkvyrn Forest. Beyond that stretched Centaro’s eastern lands: grasslands,hills, villages, and forests rising toward the snow-capped mountains. Evelyne hoped she had packed wisely.
Alaric had already mapped the best passages for their journey, and since they needed to check on trade along the way, she hadn’t argued. Charise was right. Evelyne did need him, whether she liked it or not. It was as if he had memorized the land, barely needing the map, though he still had several open beside him in the carriage.
Evelyne turned another page ofHeraldry and Sacred Signs, her fingers tightening around the spine. She had searched for any symbol resembling the sigil burned into the stone behind her home, but nothing yet matched. Frustrated, she glanced at Alaric, only to find him frowning at the map.
“Any luck deciphering it?” she asked, breaking the silence. “The map, I mean.” She nodded toward the parchment in his hands.
Alaric sighed, tilting the map toward the dimming light. “I understand the terrain well enough, but this…” He ran a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t show what lies ahead. But when we approach something… unnatural, the ink darkens. And look here.” He pointed to the map.
Evelyne leaned in, her eyes scanning the parchment. Sure enough, a faint shadow had spread at the northeastern edge where the first trade post should be.
“Something is there,” she murmured, meeting his eyes.
“We’ll know soon enough.”
They would reach the outpost within the next half hour. Whatever lay ahead, it was waiting for them.
***
The carriage came to a stop. The last slivers of sunlight had vanished behind the trees, casting the world into early twilight. Outside, the air felt damp, and a cold mist curled around the outpost.
Reuben knocked before pulling the carriage doors open. “We’re here, Mr. Stonebridge. Lady Evelyne.”
