Chapter 20: The Name Beneath the Breath
The valley lay hushed after Carrow's failed strike. Snow swirled lazily in the air, though the wind had died. The heartbeat beneath us pulsed steady, unhurried, as if it knew there was no need to rush.
The watchers still circled, eyes blazing, but they did not move. They waited. For me.
Carrow knelt in the snow, chest heaving, his sword half-buried in the ice. His gaze never left me. Not the shadows at my feet, not the girl's hand pressed firm against my heart. Only me.
"Look at yourself," he rasped. "You breathe its breath. You speak with its voice. Do you even remember your own name?"
The words struck harder than his blade had. My mouth opened, but no answer came. For a terrible instant, I could not remember. My name felt buried beneath the thunder in my chest.
The girl's fingers tightened. Her voice soothed like warm water, low and intimate.
"Names are for the small," she whispered. "For those who end. But you do not end. You begin. You are not bound by the name of a man—you are the breath."
Her words filled the hollow Carrow had carved. The fear of forgetting melted, replaced by something greater. She looked at me with those pale eyes, and I wanted to believe her. Needed to.
Carrow's laugh broke like shattered glass. "Do you hear yourself, brother? That's not her voice in your ear. That's the pit, wearing her skin. And if you cannot remember who you are, then I'll remind you—with steel."
He wrenched his sword free and rose. His body trembled, blood streaked his face, but his eyes burned with the same fury I'd seen when he led charges through fire.
The watchers shifted, weapons lifting, waiting for my command.
The girl leaned closer, her breath against my jaw, almost a kiss. "One word," she whispered. "One breath, and they will tear him down. You need not dirty your hand."
I could feel the choice hanging between us like a blade. Carrow—my captain, my brother in arms—ready to strike me down to save what he thought I still was. The girl—my anchor, my bond, offering me power I could not deny.
I turned to her. For the briefest moment, all the storm and shadow fell away. Her lips hovered near mine, pale as frost, trembling not with fear, but with longing. Or hunger. I could not tell which.
Then she said the words that froze me where I stood:
"I know your true name."
The world seemed to still. Even the heartbeat paused.
Her eyes shone with something more than light, more than knowledge. She leaned close enough that only I could hear, her lips brushing my ear. "It was spoken beneath the earth before your mother ever breathed you into the world. You are not what you think. You never were."
My blood ran cold. If she spoke truth, then everything—my birth, my battles, my bond to my men—was not fate, but design.
Carrow's shout broke the silence. "Don't listen!" He raised his sword high. "She twists your mind! If you let her speak, you'll vanish into that pit and never crawl out again!"
The watchers took a step forward. Shadows coiled, eager. The girl's hand slid from my chest to my jaw, turning my face to hers. Her lips parted, so close to mine I could feel the warmth of her breath.
"Choose me," she whispered. "Choose us. And I will give you your name."
The heartbeat roared back, louder than before, shaking the snow from the branches, rattling the sky itself.
Carrow charged. His sword caught the light, steel singing through the frozen air.
The girl leaned closer still, her lips brushing mine.
"Or choose him," she breathed, "and you will never know who you are."
The world bent. The shadows screamed.
And in that suspended heartbeat, with her lips so close and Carrow's blade descending, I realized—whoever I chose, I would not walk back unchanged.
-To be continued -
Author: thank you for your feedback and suggestions for next chapter.