Chapter 72
Chapter 72
Demian POV
The ridge air was thin, like breathing through broken glass. Every inhale scraped raw against my lungs, but I couldn’t blame the cold. It wasn’t the cold that made my pulse hammer.
It was her.
Amelia sat too close to the edge again. Always the edge. Like she wanted to test gravity, or maybe herself. Her cloak fluttered in the wind, hair catching wild around her face. Anyone else would’ve looked fragile like that. She didn’t. She looked like a flame trying to burn against the storm, reckless and alive.
And I hated her for it.
No, not her. I hated the thing that was pulling her.
The whisper. The hum. The promise.
It threaded through her veins like it belonged there, and the worst part was—I could feel it. Not the way she did, not the way that made her twitch like a puppet on invisible strings, but enough to know it wasn’t random. Enough to know if she gave in, she wouldn’t come back.
Not as Amelia. Not as mine.
I shifted closer. Not subtle, not pretending it was about warmth. My hand found hers, fingers closing firm, bone to bone, a lock she couldn’t slip through without breaking.
Her breath stuttered. “Demian—”
“No.” I cut her off before she could finish. Before she could tell me what she heard. I didn’t want the words. If I heard them out loud, they’d be real. “Not tonight. Not now.”
Her lips pressed tight, eyes burning, furious and desperate all at once. And gods help me—I loved her like that. Raw. Honest. Cracking but not broken.
But if she leaned one inch too far, if she let that whisper win, she’d fall.
And I wasn’t letting go.
\---
Klaus kept pacing the perimeter like a wolf with a thorn in its paw. Restless, sharp, watching everything too closely. I didn’t trust him. Not completely. He carried secrets in the tight set of his shoulders, in the way his gaze lingered too long when Amelia twitched at the call. He thought no one noticed, but I did.
I noticed everything.
Elian watched me notice, though. His damn blade rasped against stone, the sound scraping through the silence like he was cutting more than metal. His eyes flicked up once, met mine, then dropped again, a silent reminder: Don’t lose focus.
Like I could.
Corrin muttered in his sleep, curses tumbling from his lips even as he snored. Kira moved like a shadow, back and forth, never fully still. Aelira scribbled runes into the frost until her fingers shook too badly to continue.
And me?
I kept my grip on Amelia like the world depended on it. Because maybe it did.
\---
The whisper hit harder just before dawn.
Her body jerked, muscles seizing, and I tightened my hold instantly. “No.”
Her eyes flew open, pupils blown wide, breath ragged. “You don’t hear it—”
“I don’t need to,” I snapped, dragging her against me when she tried to rise.
Her chest heaved against mine. Her voice broke. “It’s stronger here—I can’t—”
“You can.” I ground the word like iron. “Because I’m not letting go.”
The fight in her gaze nearly gutted me. She wasn’t just resisting me—she was resisting herself. And she hated me for being the wall she crashed against.
But she leaned into me anyway. Just barely.
And that was enough.
For now.
\---
When Elian called for movement at dawn, we packed in silence. Amelia walked like a blade balanced on edge—one wrong step, and she’d cut herself in half. I stayed at her side, not touching unless I had to, but always close enough.
Klaus hung back again, eyes too sharp, steps too careful. I didn’t like the way he looked at her. Not desire—something worse. Recognition. Like he knew what was in her, because it was in him too.
The thought made my jaw ache with the force of my teeth grinding.
We climbed until the sun bled pale over the ridge, each step heavier than the last. The whisper didn’t stop. It pressed, insistent, like water dripping into stone, wearing her down grain by grain.
By midday, she was pale as the frost, lips tight, fists clenched like she could hold herself together by will alone.
I broke the silence. “Amelia.”
She didn’t look at me. “What?”
“You’re going pale.”
“Maybe I’m cold.”
“You’re lying.”
The word landed like a blade. She spun on me, fury blazing through exhaustion. “What do you want me to say, Demian? That I hear it every damn second? That I feel it crawling under my skin like it belongs there?”
“Yes.” The word ripped out of me before I could stop it.
Her breath caught.
“Yes, Amelia. I want you to say it out loud instead of swallowing it down like poison. Because if you keep it in, it’ll kill you before whatever’s behind that tear ever gets the chance.”
The anger in her eyes cracked. Just a little.
She clenched her fists, nails biting her palms. “Fine. I hear it. I feel it. Every breath. Every step. Happy now?”
I stepped closer, looming, refusing to flinch. “No. But now I know you’re not alone in it.”
Her lips parted like the words had stolen her breath.
For a heartbeat, the whisper faltered.
And I wanted to believe it was because of me.
\---
We camped again at dusk, beneath jagged stone that looked like broken teeth gnashing overhead. No fire. No comfort. Just the cold and the hum, threading through the air like it owned us.
Amelia sat at the edge again, staring into the dark like the void might answer back. I joined her, lowering myself beside her until our shoulders brushed.
“What do you hear now?” My voice was low, almost drowned by the wind.
Her throat worked. Then, softly: “It’s not just whispering anymore. It’s… waiting.”
I swallowed hard. My jaw set. “Then let it wait until it rots.”
She gave a strangled laugh, broken around the edges. “And if I can’t?”
I turned, grabbed her hand before she could pull away, my grip steel around her trembling fingers. “Then I’ll burn with you before I let it take you alone.”
The bond surged, heat sparking between our palms, fierce and consuming.
For a moment—just a moment—the whisper went silent.
And gods, I wanted to believe silence could last.
\---
But it didn’t.
Hours later, when the others finally drifted into uneasy sleep, I lay awake, Amelia curled against me, her breath uneven in the crook of my shoulder.
And in the dark, I saw him.
The silver-eyed man.
Not in a dream. Not behind my eyelids.
Standing at the far edge of the ridge, pale and sharp as moonlight, his gaze locked on her.
My pulse thundered. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Because if I blinked, if I broke the stare, I wasn’t sure he’d stay an illusion.
I tightened my hold on Amelia until she stirred, murmuring in her sleep, pressing closer.
The figure’s lips curved into something that might’ve been a smile. Or a warning.
Then he vanished.
The whisper didn’t fade.
It pulsed stronger.
And for the first time, I knew—
This fight wasn’t just hers anymore.
It was mine too.
\---
The night stretched endless.
I didn’t sleep.
Because if I did, he’d be waiting.
And if he was waiting…
I wasn’t sure I’d come back.