The night after the wraith's defeat should have been one of rest.
Instead, Elena lay awake, the sheets twisted around her like a net. Her breathing came shallow and uneven, each exhale met with the lingering taste of ash. Even with Kael nearby—his quiet presence in the chair by the window, watching the stars as though guarding against them—she could not chase away the echo of that battle.
She had seen it.
A rift, small but undeniable, yawning in her world. The wraith had clawed through like it belonged here, and if one could pass… how many more could follow?
The clock ticked toward dawn. Elena closed her eyes, but her thoughts did not quiet.
Elena…
Her eyes snapped open. The voice was faint, soft as silk, but it wasn't Kael's. It wasn't her own. It was the same undertone she had heard in the Veil, the entity's whisper. She bolted upright.
Kael turned instantly, shadow catching across his sharp features. "What is it?"
She hesitated. To admit it was to make it real. To confess that even in her own head, she was not safe.
"The voice," she whispered, hugging her knees. "It's here. It's… it's in me, Kael."
His jaw tightened, but he crossed the room quickly, kneeling beside her bed. He did not touch her at first; he waited, giving her space to retreat or lean forward. She leaned. He took her hand.
"Elena, it cannot claim you unless you let it," he said softly. "It feeds on doubt. Fear. If you believe its lies, if you let them root, that is when it takes ground."
Her pulse raced. "What if I can't tell what's real anymore? What if it already has me?"
His thumb brushed the back of her hand, grounding her. "Then I'll remind you. Every time. I won't let it have you."
For a moment, silence fell between them, thick with everything unspoken.
Then the whisper came again—this time louder, almost smug. He cannot save you. He was born of shadow. You belong to us both.
Elena gasped and clutched her head. Kael's grip tightened, and shadows flickered across the walls, stirred by his instinct. His magic responded to his emotions like a storm gathering on the horizon.
"Elena," he said firmly, drawing her gaze back. His eyes glowed faintly, silver against the dim light. "Look at me. Only me. The voice is nothing compared to what's here."
She forced herself to meet his stare. The whisper dimmed, though it didn't vanish. A shudder ran through her, and for the first time she realized how close she was—his face mere inches from hers, his hand steadying her jaw. Her heart thundered.
"Teach me how to fight it," she whispered.
Kael's expression softened, but there was iron in his tone. "There is a way. A ritual of wards and barriers. But it requires absolute trust. If you falter, if you hold back even a fraction, it could unravel."
"Then we do it," Elena said, too quickly, too desperate.
He searched her face, as though weighing the truth of her words. Finally, he nodded.
They prepared that night, in the abandoned chapel at the edge of town.
The chapel had been long forgotten, its stained-glass windows cracked, its pews warped by rain and time. Dust hung in the air, stirred only by their footsteps. Yet as Kael traced glowing sigils across the stone floor, the place seemed to breathe again—light and shadow intertwining in patterns older than language.
Elena stood at the circle's edge, hugging herself against the cold. "What happens if I get it wrong?"
"You won't," Kael said simply.
She tried to laugh, but it came out thin. "You have far too much faith in me."
"Not faith," he corrected, glancing at her with a faint smile. "Certainty."
The word lodged in her chest. He said it like it was undeniable, like the sun rising. And despite her fear, she clung to it.
Kael extended his hand. She stepped forward and took it. Their palms pressed together, their fingers interlacing. The moment their skin touched, warmth spread between them, mingling with the hum of energy that rose from the circle.
"Elena," he said quietly, his voice carrying more weight than the ritual itself, "trust me."
"I do," she whispered back.
The circle flared.
At first, it was simple—like breathing together. Her heartbeat fell into rhythm with his, their thoughts brushing faintly at the edges of consciousness. But as the magic deepened, the entity struck.
He hides from you. He is shadow made flesh. How can you love what was born of darkness?
Elena's knees buckled. Kael's grip steadied her instantly.
"Don't listen," he urged. "Focus on me."
But the whispers dug deeper. Faces from her past surfaced—her mother, her childhood friend Anna, even the girl who used to bully her at school. All of them, speaking with the same poisoned tongue.
You don't belong here. You are nothing. You will lose them all.
Tears blurred Elena's vision. She wanted to collapse, to scream, to let go. But Kael's hand anchored her, his magic pulsing steady against hers. She clung to it like a lifeline.
And then she felt it—his memories bleeding through. Not the whole, but fragments. A boy alone in the dark. A voice promising power if only he surrendered his name. A thousand years of silence, until the night he first saw her.
Elena gasped. "Kael… you—"
He flinched as though she'd touched a scar. "Don't," he said sharply. But she couldn't stop.
"You've been alone all this time," she whispered. "That's why you fight so hard. That's why you found me."
The circle flared brighter, their bond tightening. The whispers screamed, clawing at her mind, but suddenly she understood—this was the entity's greatest fear. Not her weakness. Not Kael's shadow. But their connection.
"I'm not afraid," Elena said, her voice steady now. "Not of you. Not of what we are together."
Kael's eyes widened, a storm breaking within them. For the first time, he looked unguarded. Vulnerable. Human.
The circle blazed, a pillar of light and shadow intertwined. The whispers shrieked and scattered like smoke in wind.
And then—silence.
They collapsed against each other, the circle fading. The chapel was quiet but for their ragged breathing.
Kael's forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling. "You could have been lost," he whispered. "You risked everything."
"So did you," she whispered back. "And we didn't break."
His hand lingered at her cheek. His eyes softened, something unspoken shimmering in them. For one suspended heartbeat, Elena thought he might close the distance between them. Her chest tightened with longing she barely understood.
But before either could move, a scream shattered the night.
Both turned. Through the broken stained glass, they saw the town below. Shadows writhed along the streets, slithering toward houses, curling around lampposts. People stumbled from their homes in terror.
Kael's expression hardened. "It has begun."
Elena's heart dropped. "The shadows—here? In the open?"
"They're no longer confined to the Veil." His voice was grim, resolute. "The entity is merging worlds."
Elena clutched his arm, her pulse racing. "Then we fight."
His gaze met hers—steady, unwavering. "Together."
And in that moment, as darkness spilled into her world, Elena knew the truth. The war was no longer distant. It was here. It was now. And their bond was both weapon and target.
The whispers would not stop. But neither would they.