Chapter 18 “Whispers In Firelight”
The night feels different.
The air itself carries a hum, low and sweet, like the world has begun to breathe in rhythm with me.
I sit beside the hearth, the fire soft and golden, my fingers tracing the mark at the base of my neck — the same one that flared beneath the moon last night. The warmth hasn’t faded since. It pulses in steady time with my heartbeat, and beneath that, something else. A second rhythm. Slower. Stronger.
His.
When I close my eyes, I can almost see him again — not clearly, just the outline of him. Silver eyes, steady as starlight. The weight of his gaze feels like gravity, pulling me toward something I can’t resist.
I’ve tried to tell myself it’s only a dream. But dreams don’t leave their warmth behind when you wake.
Liam moves somewhere behind me, the quiet scrape of wood against the floor as he adds another log to the fire. His voice is gentle, but I can hear the strain beneath it.
“You haven’t really slept, have you?”
I shake my head. “No. Every time I close my eyes, I see him.”
The word him hangs heavy between us.
Liam sits down across from me, the firelight catching in his eyes — brown, soft, familiar. I should find comfort in them, but tonight, even his presence feels distant, like I’m seeing him from across a river I can’t cross anymore.
“Maybe it’s just a memory,” he says carefully. “You’ve been through so much. Sometimes our minds—”
“It isn’t my mind,” I whisper, almost fiercely. “It’s real. He’s real.”
The fire crackles. Silence blooms between us.
Finally, Liam sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Then tell me what you see.”
I look into the flames, letting them blur until they become silver light. “It’s always the same. The world behind the veil. Two moons. Wolves howling somewhere far away. And him… standing where the shadows touch the light. He says my name like it belongs to him. Like he’s been waiting for me to answer.”
Liam’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing.
I touch my mark again, feeling it thrum faintly. “It doesn’t feel like something new,” I continue softly. “It feels like something old. Like I’ve known him forever.”
He stares at me for a long moment, and when he finally speaks, his voice is rough. “Do you love him?”
The question hits me like a stone dropped into still water. Ripples of emotion rise, unexpected and sharp.
“I don’t even know him,” I say, but the words sound hollow. “And yet when I hear his voice… everything inside me answers.”
Liam’s gaze drops to the fire. The hurt in his eyes twists something deep in me. I want to reach for him, to tell him he still matters — because he does. But it wouldn’t be the truth he deserves.
He stands after a moment, the firelight painting his face in gold and shadow. “Whoever he is, Elera… if he’s the reason you’ve stopped seeing what’s right in front of you, then maybe he isn’t what you think.”
He turns away, leaving me with the fire and the hollow ache his words carve into my chest.
When the door closes, I exhale shakily and lean back against the chair, watching the flames dance. The house feels too quiet now. Too still.
Then, faintly — a whisper.
At first I think it’s the wind. But the sound curls around my thoughts like silk.
Elera.
My breath catches. I look up. The fire flares higher, silver light blooming in the heart of the flames.
Aiden. His name slips from my lips without permission.
The light shivers, and the air thickens. I can feel him — not beside me, but within me. A heartbeat beneath my own.
You hear me, his voice says, soft as moonlight.
I close my eyes, tears prickling. I do. What is this? What are you?
The other half, he murmurs. The bond was never broken — only sleeping. I’ve been waiting for you to wake.
A sob escapes me before I can stop it. “I thought I imagined you.”
You could never imagine what already belongs to you.
The firelight flickers, painting silver across my skin. I can almost see him again — tall, broad-shouldered, his eyes catching mine across some invisible divide. The bond thrums, strong enough to steal my breath.
Why do I feel like I know you?
Because you do, he says. You always have. You were mine once, before the worlds tore us apart.
The room spins, warmth rushing through my veins like fire and memory. My heart stumbles in my chest. Then why can’t I remember?
Because remembering would have destroyed you. His voice softens. But the veil is thinning now. Soon, the gate will open again.
The flames dim slightly, but his presence doesn’t fade. It lingers like a promise.
I whisper into the hush, “And when it does?”
When it does, he says, I’ll come for you.
The fire cracks once more and collapses into embers. The connection fades, leaving the air heavy with his echo.
For a long moment, I sit there trembling, my hands pressed against my heart. The mark burns faintly beneath my fingers, alive, pulsing.
Through the silence, I can still hear him — faint, fading, but real.
Soon, Elera.
I close my eyes and let a single tear slip down my cheek. The night hums around me, soft and infinite. Somewhere beyond the veil, a wolf howls — low, mournful, and familiar.
And for the first time, I don’t feel afraid.
I feel found.