Chapter 81
Chapter 81
Demian POV
The snow fell heavier as we pressed on, a slow suffocation of the path ahead. Each flake stung against my skin like needles, melting into my collar, creeping cold down my spine. My boots sank deeper, every step dragging like it meant to bury me here.
No one spoke.
That silence was a beast of its own—gnawing, relentless. I’d have welcomed growls, curses, anything to cut through the tension that strangled the air. But no—Kira kept her blades close and her jaw locked tight. Corrin gritted his teeth through his limp. Elian walked like his thoughts were a thousand leagues ahead, dark and unreadable.
His back was a wall of iron in front of me, shoulders squared, head unbending against the storm. He didn’t slow, didn’t falter. Didn’t acknowledge me. He might as well have been carved from the same stone as the mountains.
I held Amelia’s hand tighter, the only proof I wasn’t already frozen hollow. Her fingers twitched faintly, shaking with cold, but she didn’t complain. Not once. She kept pace with me, matching each step with stubborn defiance, even when I could feel the ache tearing through her bones.
Every now and then, she’d stumble. A rock hidden under snow, a drift deeper than it looked. My arm would catch her, hold her steady, murmuring quiet reassurance only she could hear. You’re fine. I’ve got you.
But every time, Klaus’s head tilted. That tiny motion, subtle but sharp, like the world was a ledger and he was tallying her sins in silence.
And gods help me, the shame that threaded through our bond after each stumble—it burned. It wasn’t hers to carry, but she bore it anyway, and my rage had nowhere to go but inward.
\---
By the time the sky split open again, dropping thicker snow that blanketed the world in white, I knew we wouldn’t make it to the ridge before nightfall. My wolf snarled against the storm, restless, scenting more than weather in the wind.
Danger. Always danger.
I caught Elian’s eye. He lifted a hand, signaling a halt. Even Corrin looked grateful for it, bending over with a grunt, pressing a hand to his ribs. Kira paced ahead a few feet, scanning the treeline with the tension of someone itching for a fight.
“We can’t keep moving in this,” Elian said finally, voice clipped, practical. “Visibility’s gone. We’d be walking into a trap blind.”
Kira nodded once. Corrin spat into the snow, muttering about frozen lungs.
And Klaus—he didn’t say a word. His gaze cut toward me instead, black as the storm, and for the barest second, I thought he’d argue. Not about Elian’s call—no, he would never waste his words like that. He’d argue because it was me standing here with Amelia still clinging to my side.
But then he looked away, jaw tight, and started clearing snow for a fire without a word.
I wanted to hit him. Gods, I wanted to drag him into the snow and shake him until something human cracked through that wall he’d built. But Amelia swayed against me, her breath thin, and I forced it all down. She came first. Always her.
\---
We built the camp in brittle silence. The fire crackled weakly against the storm, too small, too fleeting, but enough to gather around. Amelia huddled close to me, her lips pale, her skin clammy under my touch. I pulled her into my lap, wrapping her cloak tighter, trying to warm her with everything I had left.
Kira’s eyes flicked toward us, unreadable. Corrin busied himself with sharpening a blade he’d never stop using, even if it broke his hand. Elian sat with his back against a tree, his gaze fixed on the fire, though I knew damn well he was listening to every breath, every shift.
And Klaus—gods damn him—stood apart again.
Watching. Always watching.
His arms folded, his shadow a rigid line against the firelight. He didn’t sit. Didn’t rest. Didn’t even acknowledge the cold. He just stared at me like I was the weakest link in the chain, the one dragging us all under.
It burned.
I pressed a kiss to Amelia’s temple, softer than breath, but I knew Klaus saw. His shoulders stiffened, his jaw clenched, and the hatred that rolled off him was thick enough to choke on.
I looked back at the fire before I did something reckless. My wolf clawed under my skin, demanding I bare my teeth, demanding I remind him I wasn’t weak, wasn’t broken. But that was the trap, wasn’t it? He wanted me to rise. To snap. To prove him right.
Not tonight.
\---
Amelia’s head rested against my chest, her breath evening out as exhaustion dragged her under. I held her like a shield against the storm and against my own brother’s contempt.
But gods, I could feel it coming.
The break.
The moment when silence wouldn’t be enough anymore.
\---
It was late when the storm eased, snow thinning into soft flakes that glittered faintly in the dying firelight. Most of the others had dozed where they sat. Corrin snored again, blade still clutched in his hand. Kira leaned back against a tree, one eye half open. Elian’s breathing was slow, measured, but I didn’t doubt he was awake still.
Klaus, though—he hadn’t moved. Not once.
I stared at him across the fire, the weight of all the years between us pressing heavy on my chest. The graves we’d dug together. The blood we’d shed. The nights we’d sworn nothing could come between us.
And now, here we were.
I wanted to say his name. Wanted to break the silence. But what would I even say? That I hated him for the poison he’d planted in Amelia’s heart? That I hated him more for making me wonder if he was right?
No. Not tonight. Not with her asleep in my arms, the only warmth left in me.
I closed my eyes instead, burying my face in her hair, letting the steady rhythm of her heartbeat drown out everything else.
\---
Morning came brittle and thin.
The fire was nothing but ash when I woke, my breath steaming in the air. The world around us was blanketed in white, the storm’s mark painted across the land. Trees sagged heavy under snow. The path ahead was buried.
We packed quickly. Too quickly. Every movement stiff, mechanical, like none of us trusted the silence between us anymore.
Amelia tied her cloak again, her fingers shaking. I covered them with mine, steadying her, but she only gave me that same quiet defiance. I can keep up.
I nodded. Because if I told her not to push herself, it would sound like I believed Klaus.
And I couldn’t give him that.
\---
The march was harder. Snow deeper, air sharper. Each step sank me closer to exhaustion, but I didn’t falter. Couldn’t. Amelia’s hand was locked in mine, and I dragged us both forward.
But I wasn’t the only one dragging chains.
Klaus’s shadow never left the corner of my vision. He walked like the storm hadn’t touched him, each step precise, unrelenting. But his hand—it hovered closer to his blade. Too close. Too ready.
It was then the truth hit me, sharper than the wind.
It wasn’t just that I might lose him.
It was that I might have to fight him.
Brother against brother. Blood against bond.
And gods help me—I didn’t know if I had the strength to survive either outcome.