Chapter 70
Amelia POV
The path narrowed again by late afternoon.
The kind of narrow where if you slipped, you weren’t just tripping—you were gone.
The drop stretched down into a hollow of jagged rock and fog. Corrin muttered something under his breath about broken ankles waiting to happen, but Elian didn’t slow. He never did.
I hated him a little for that. Not because I wanted to stop, but because stopping meant I’d hear it louder. The hum. The whisper. The… promise.
Demian stayed so close behind me his breath brushed my hair when the wind shifted. He didn’t touch me this time. Didn’t need to. His presence was its own kind of grip.
And it was suffocating. And saving. All at once.
\---
By the time we cleared the ridge, the sky had started bruising with sunset. Aelira was pale, sweat beading at her temple even in the cold. She’d been walking like every step was a calculation she couldn’t afford to get wrong.
Elian noticed. Of course he did. He signaled a stop at a clearing just big enough to huddle without falling off the edge.
The others dropped their packs, grateful. I stayed standing.
Because the hum was worse here.
It was like the stone itself vibrated, low and hungry, as if beneath the earth some vast hand was scratching to get out.
I clenched my fists until my nails bit skin.
Demian rose from where he’d crouched to check the gear. “Don’t.”
The single word snapped my gaze to him. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t listen.” His tone wasn’t sharp, but it was iron.
“I’m not.”
He arched a brow like he didn’t believe a syllable. “Your pupils say otherwise.”
My chest tightened. “You can’t order me not to hear something.”
“Maybe not.” He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “But I can make damn sure you hear me louder.”
That should’ve made me laugh. Or at least roll my eyes. Instead it punched heat through my chest in a way I hated, because the bond trembled like it liked the sound of his voice more than the whisper.
“Demian—”
“No.” He cut me off, sharp now. “You don’t get to drift toward whatever that is without a fight. Not while I’m here.”
I swallowed, hard. “And if you can’t stop it?”
His jaw flexed. “Then I’ll go through hell holding on to you.”
The worst part? I believed him.
And I wasn’t sure that was comfort, or curse.
\---
We lit no fire that night. Elian insisted the glow would be too obvious on the open rock. The cold sank bone-deep, crawling into every seam of my clothes. My breath plumed white, drifting like smoke toward the stars.
I curled into my cloak, pretending it was enough, but my body still shook with something that wasn’t just the cold.
Demian noticed. Of course he did. He always noticed.
Without a word, he shifted closer, his shoulder pressed to mine, warmth seeping through. His arm brushed me once, twice, before he finally let it settle, heavy across my back.
“You’re shivering,” he murmured.
“Brilliant observation.” My voice came out choked.
He ignored the barb. “Lean in.”
I should’ve argued. Should’ve kept that sliver of distance like it mattered. Instead, I gave in, tilting until my temple rested against his shoulder.
The bond buzzed like static, sharp and alive.
I closed my eyes. For a moment, I pretended the hum in my chest was his heartbeat and nothing else.
\---
Sleep didn’t come easy.
When it did, it wasn’t kind.
The dream was sharper this time—like the edges of the world had been carved in glass.
The silver-eyed man waited again. Same stance, same outstretched hand. Behind him, the tear pulsed, colors spilling like veins of fire through the air. His mouth moved in silence, but I didn’t need sound to know.
Come.
I wanted to scream at him. To tell him no. To tell him I wasn’t his, I wasn’t anyone’s. But my throat locked, and my feet shifted forward against my will.
The dream snapped before I stepped through.
I woke with a gasp, heart hammering, breath fogging in the predawn dark.
Demian’s arm was still draped around me. His breathing slow, steady. As if the world wasn’t unraveling inside my skull.
I shoved my hands against my eyes and whispered into the hollow of my palms: “I don’t want to.”
But the whisper in the back of my head murmured like it had all the time in the world: Yes, you do.
\---
We broke camp at first light.
Nobody spoke much. Even Corrin seemed muted, his usual sharp quips trimmed down to grunts. Kira looked like a blade herself, all edges and silence. Aelira kept sketching faint runes in the frost with the tip of her finger, her lips moving soundlessly.
I just kept moving. One foot, then the next. Pretending the ache in my chest was just exhaustion.
It wasn’t.
By midday, the hum clawed harder. Each step felt like it was dragging me closer to something that waited just beyond sight.
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. The metallic tang was grounding, but only for a heartbeat.
Demian’s voice cut through my spiral. “Amelia.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a command.
I didn’t look at him. “What?”
“You’re going pale.”
“Maybe I’m cold.”
“You’re lying.”
The word sliced clean. I stumbled to a stop, spinning on him. “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?”
His eyes flared. “Yes.”
The force of it stunned me.
“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 his tone wasn’t anger at me. It was anger at the world. At the thing pulling me apart.
And it cracked something inside me.
I clenched my fists, nails biting deep. “Fine. I hear it. I feel it. Every breath. Every step. Happy now?”
He stepped closer, towering, unyielding. “No. But now I know you’re not alone in it.”
The bond throbbed, so sharp it stole my breath.
For a second, the whisper went quiet.
And that scared me more than when it was loud.
\---
We moved again. Hours blurred. My body ached, my mind frayed. But Demian stayed there, relentless as shadow.
When the sun bled out across the horizon, Elian finally called for camp near another ridge, stone arching above us like broken teeth.
I sat at the edge again, knees to my chest, staring at the endless dark. The pull was stronger than ever. My chest burned with it.
I didn’t notice Demian until he was beside me, silent, his presence anchoring.
His voice was low, almost lost to the wind. “What do you hear now?”
My throat closed. But I forced the words out. “It’s not just whispering anymore. It’s… waiting.”
His jaw set hard. “Then let it wait until it rots.”
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to believe him.
Instead I whispered, “And if I can’t?”
He turned, eyes fierce, hand finding mine in the dark. “Then I’ll burn with you before I let it take you alone.”
The bond surged, fierce and consuming, drowning out everything else.
And for the first time in days, the whisper faltered.
\---
The night stretched long.
The stars wheeled overhead, cold and endless.
But with his hand locked around mine, I held on.
Not to the whisper.