THE WEIGHT OF THE SOUL

THE WEIGHT OF THE SOUL

THANE'S POV

I can't breathe. The air is too thick, too heavy. There’s something pressing against the back of my skull, clawing at my mind, like a cold wind creeping through the cracks. I fight it. I fight it.

But it's getting harder.

I feel the presence, the thing, curling its way around my thoughts. It whispers. It hisses. It tells me that Ayla’s a threat. It tells me that she’s the key. The key to everything.

I won’t let it in. I can’t. But each time I hold it back, it fights harder, pushing through, spreading its influence like a disease.

“Ayla,” I say, my voice thick, like I’m trying to speak through a fog. I want to reach for her, pull her close, but I can’t. Something inside me tells me to push her away, to break her, to make her fall.

It’s not me. I know that. But it’s not me anymore. I don’t know where I end, and it begins.

I blink. The pressure builds.

She’s all I think about, though. She has been for as long as I can remember. I remember her laugh, the way her hair falls around her face, the way her eyes spark when she’s angry or passionate. I remember the first time she smiled at me.

Goddess, please don’t let me lose her.

But the cracks are spreading faster now. It’s almost like it’s taking over, piece by piece. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

AYLA'S POV

I can't sleep. Not really. Not when every time I close my eyes, I see his face. The one I love, but it’s so... distant. Like he’s not really there.

I’ve been keeping my distance from the others. They don’t know what’s happening. They don’t see it the way I do, but I feel it. Every second of it. It’s like Thane is slipping away, and I don’t know how to grab hold of him.

He’s getting worse.

I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to think that this could be the end of him. But I can’t ignore the signs.

He’s colder now. More distant. He’s pulling away from me, from everyone. I catch him staring at the walls sometimes, like he’s seeing something I can’t. Like he’s... not even there.

I need answers.

So, I track down Garrick.

“What do you know?” I ask, my voice a little sharper than I meant. “Is it possible to save someone who’s been possessed?”

Garrick’s eyes harden. He looks at me for a long time before he speaks. “Not if it’s the kind of spirit I think it is. If it’s wearing his face, it’s already eaten too much of him.”

My heart breaks a little. It feels like someone’s grabbed it and just... squeezed.

But I won’t give up. I can’t. I can’t lose him.

So, I start spending more time with Thane. Little things. Conversations. Reminiscing about old memories. Laughing about stupid things that only we would understand.

Sometimes, I can see him again. The real him. It’s in his eyes, when he looks at me and I see the flicker of recognition. The warmth that I know is still inside him.

But it’s fleeting.

Other times, he’ll blink, and when his eyes open, it’s like I’m a stranger to him. He pulls away, like he doesn’t even know me. And that, that breaks me a little more each time.

I try not to show it. I don’t want him to see that I’m cracking too. I don’t want him to see how badly it’s hurting me, how scared I am. But I feel it. In my bones. I feel it every second.

Then one night, everything changes.

The possession escalates

I wake up in the dark, and there’s a weight pressing down on me. For a moment, I think it’s just a bad dream, but when I open my eyes, my breath catches.

Thane is on top of me. His hands are around my throat, and I can’t breathe.

It’s just for a second, just enough to panic me. Just enough for me to feel the life slipping away from me.

I can’t breathe. His grip tightens.

Then, suddenly, he lets go. His eyes widen in horror, and he falls back, scrambling off of me, clawing at his skin like he’s trying to tear himself apart.

“I— I can’t—” He’s shaking now, on the ground, his face twisted with fear. “Ayla, I can’t— it’s in me.”

I rush to him. I don’t care if I’m shaking too. I don’t care about anything else but him.

I pull him into my arms, even though my hands are trembling. “You fight for me, Thane,” I say, my voice breaking. “I’ll fight for you. I’m not leaving. Not now, not ever.”

He looks up at me, his eyes wild. He’s not himself. Not completely. But in that moment, I don’t care. I don’t care if he’s broken, if he’s falling apart. I’ll hold him together.

“I’m not letting go,” I whisper. “You’re not alone in this. You don’t have to fight it alone.”

His eyes soften, just for a second. But it’s enough. For a second, I see him again. The real him.

But then, it fades. And I’m left holding the pieces, praying that somehow, I can put them all back together.

A few days later, Leona comes back. She looks older, wearier. She has news.

“There’s a way,” she says, her voice quiet, almost like she’s unsure if it’s even worth saying. “A dark ritual. A last resort. It is not sure… not guaranteed.”

She explains it to us, step by step. They can pull the spirit out of Thane. They can take it out, but it needs a host. Someone strong enough to carry it. Or, it needs to be destroyed.

But there’s no guarantee. It’s a gamble.

Garrick speaks up, his voice steady. “I’ll do it,” he says, without hesitation. “I’ll be the host.”

Ayla’s stomach drops. “No,” I say, my voice sharp. “I won’t let you. You’re the only one who hasn’t betrayed me.”

Garrick gives me a long look. “This is how I balance the scale, Ayla. This is how I make things right. Let me do this.”

I don’t want him to. I don’t want to lose him too. But I can’t stop him.

And before we can even start the ritual, before we can do anything, something happens.

Thane’s gone. Just like that. Without a trace.

We search everywhere. The pack splits up, looking high and low for him, but there’s nothing. It’s like he’s disappeared into thin air.

“We know where he would go, don't we?” Callum mutters with a dark glare and I nod.

The caves. The last pace we had rescued the wolves from, where Garrick had gotten the scrolls from.

Nadira's last hiding place.

And we find him there.

Standing in the ruins.

His eyes are black. Completely black. And there’s a smile on his face. It’s not a smile I know.

“Ayla,” he calls my name, and my blood runs cold.

This isn’t him. It can’t be. It’s not him.

But I don’t know what to do. I don’t know
how to fix it anymore.

“Ayla...” he says again, and his smile widens.

He’s lost. And I’m scared that I’ve lost him forever.