Chapter 100: Shadows Between Us
The fortress felt colder in Brienne’s absence.
It was more than just the silence she left behind, more than the absence of her sarcastic remarks or the way she could make even the most hopeless moment feel like it carried a sliver of possibility. For Isla, Brienne had been her compass. Now that she was gone, the world tilted just slightly on its axis, and Isla felt it in every breath.
Damian had sent scouts the moment he learned she was missing. He’d barked orders at anyone within reach, ignoring the ache in his own limbs and the mounting exhaustion that lined his face. The soldiers returned with little more than reports of empty roads and strange scents, scents Damian didn’t like. Vincent’s scent. Isla didn’t need the scouts to tell her that, though. She felt it in her bones.
Vincent had Brienne.
It was a knowledge that settled in her chest like ice, sharp and immovable. She didn’t understand the source of the dread that coiled inside her. The danger was obvious, Vincent was powerful, cunning, and unhinged. But there was something else deeper and darke lurking in the shadows and making Isla’s soul ache in a way she couldn’t explain. At the abrupt sensation she pressed her palm against her stomach, where a subtle pulse of heat radiated just beneath the skin. It was their baby, Damian’s and hers, a miracle that never ceased to amaze her. The thought became her solace, a quiet comfort that filled her with hope and reminded her of the countdown, not just to birth, but to the moment the three of them would finally be together.
Damian hadn’t been sleeping. She felt his tension in everything, in his silence, in his clipped tone with others, even in the way he held her at night. His touches were no longer gentle explorations but fierce affirmations. Each kiss was a prayer. Each time he buried himself in her, it was with the desperation of a man fighting against time itself.
She had clutched him tighter last night, trying to give him comfort, but also trying to ground herself. His presence was her anchor. But still, she feared the tides.
Across the training grounds, Leo found Alaine where he expected her, alone, retreating into silence like she always did when things began to feel too real. She sat with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees on the stone steps, chin resting against them. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, but she was somewhere else entirely.
"You’re not as good at hiding as you think," Leo said, casually lowering himself to sit beside her.
Alaine didn’t flinch, but a dry, humorless laugh escaped her lips. "And you’re not as charming as you think."
He grinned. "Not true. I’m devastatingly charming. Ask anyone."
Still, she didn’t look at him.
The silence stretched out, the air between them taut with unspoken things. At last, she whispered, "It’s easier if I push you away."
He turned to her, eyes narrowing. "Easier for who?"
"For both of us," she said, barely audible.
"Bullshit," he muttered. "That’s not who you are, Alaine."
She didn’t move when his fingers brushed against her wrist, tracing the lines of her veins as if learning a language in the touch. She didn’t pull away when his hand slipped into hers, the warmth of his skin grounding her.
"You’re scared," he said quietly.
Her breath hitched. Her body betrayed her.
"I think about you all the damn time," Leo said, leaning in. "And every time you push me away, it makes me want you more."
She turned her head, lips parting as if to protest, but nothing came out.
Then he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes, eyes that didn’t judge, only saw her.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured.
But she didn’t.
So he kissed her, and this time, she let herself kiss him back. She let herself fall.
Across the fortress, Isla awoke with a sharp gasp, her hands instinctively clutching her stomach. The dream, no, the vision, had been too vivid to ignore. She’d seen a throne room swallowed in shadow, the air thick with power. Vincent stood over Brienne, who was chained to the floor, her expression unreadable.
Then came the voice. The same whispering, insidious tone that had haunted her for weeks: She belongs to him, just as you belong to me.
After came the blood, thick, sudden and searing pain that tore through Isla’s abdomen and forced her awake.
She was trembling when Damian jolted upright. His hand gripped her arm immediately, his voice rough with sleep. "Isla?"
She struggled to breathe. "A dream," she lied. "It was just a dream."
But Damian’s eyes sharpened. "No, it wasn’t."
She didn’t argue. She didn’t need to.
"Vincent has Brienne," she said, voice trembling. "And I think… I think he’s using her to reach me. Through me."
Damian’s jaw clenched, muscles twitching. "Over my dead body."
He pulled her to him as if he could somehow protect her from something intangible, something ancient and powerful. As if sheer force of will could break the bond that had been forged in blood and prophecy.
She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his scent, letting it calm her.
But no matter how tightly she held him, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was already unraveling. That Vincent’s reach extended further than they thought. That her child, the one growing stronger with each passing day, was somehow a beacon and a lure… But, it broke her heart that, Brienne, loyal, fearless Brienne, had been the first to pay the price. Of course, she yet didn’t know why, and oh what a surprise it was going to be…