Chapter 82

Amelia POV

The first thing I noticed as we marched. Not the cold in my bones or the ache in my lungs, but the silence that pressed down on us like a suffocating hand. Every step crunched too loud, every breath steamed too visible. I felt like even the world wanted to shush me—remind me I didn’t belong here.

And I could feel Klaus’s stare even when his back was turned.

I didn’t need to look to know what it meant. I’d seen it in the firelight last night, the contempt etched into every line of his face. He hated me. Or worse—he pitied me. He thought I was an anchor around Demian’s neck, dragging him into the depths.

The part that cut deepest?

I agreed.

\---

Demian’s hand was warm in mine, steady, unyielding. Every time I faltered, every time the snow pulled me down to my knees, he was there. His grip never wavered, his voice brushed soft against my ear: You’re fine. You’re doing fine.

But his brother’s silence was louder than his comfort.

When I stumbled earlier, the snow deeper than I’d expected, Klaus hadn’t even turned around. Just a tilt of his head, the barest acknowledgement. Like he was marking another failure in the long tally he carried of me.

And gods, I couldn’t breathe after that.

I knew Demian felt it. Shame seeped through the bond like smoke, sour and heavy. I tried to hide it, I tried to bury it, but bonds weren’t things you could smother. They cut too deep.

He squeezed my hand tighter, as if sheer force could burn the doubt out of me. But it lingered, coiled around my ribs like a snake, whispering: He’s right. You don’t belong here. You’ll get them all killed.

\---

The storm broke by noon, but the sky didn’t brighten. It sagged heavy with clouds, the kind that promised more snow, more weight. The air smelled sharp, metallic—wrong.

Kira caught it too. Her eyes swept the treeline, her hand never straying far from her blade. Corrin grunted every step, muttering curses, but even he quieted, his head lifting like he was bracing for a fight.

Elian was silent. Too silent. That was when I knew something waited for us.

And Klaus—

He didn’t just look outward. He looked at Demian.

At me.

That glance—cold, cutting—said more than words. I knew what it meant. If something came at us from the trees, he’d be just as ready to cut me down as he would an enemy.

I wanted to tell myself that wasn’t true. That Demian’s brother couldn’t possibly… But I’d seen the hate in his eyes. I’d felt it.

And I knew what hate could do.

\---

By the time Elian raised a hand for us to halt, my legs were trembling so badly I thought they might give out. The snow came higher now, catching against my cloak, seeping into my boots, biting at my toes. My lungs burned.

“Something’s wrong,” Elian said, his voice quiet but sure.

The group tightened instantly. Kira’s blades hissed as she loosened them. Corrin cursed under his breath. Demian shifted closer to me, his body a shield.

I hated myself for leaning into it. For hiding in it.

I wanted to stand tall, wanted to prove I wasn’t the weak link. But my knees shook and my heart pounded, and the bond betrayed me, pouring fear straight into him.

His arm curved around my waist, grounding me. His wolf hummed low, protective, his voice brushing soft inside me: You’re not alone. You never are.

And maybe that should’ve helped. Maybe it should’ve steadied me. But instead it broke me.

Because I couldn’t stop thinking—what if Klaus was right? What if I was the noose around his neck? What if loving me really would kill him?

\---

“Left flank,” Elian murmured suddenly, his voice like steel.

The snow shivered.

Then the trees exploded.

Not like the ones I’d grown up with, not pack, not kin. These were larger, ragged, their eyes glowing red with the hunger of something unnatural. Corrupted. Their growls ripped through the silence, sharp and savage.

The first one lunged for me.

I froze.

Every muscle locked, every breath caught. My blade stayed at my side, heavy, useless. The world narrowed to fangs and speed and death barreling toward me.

And then Demian was there.

Steel flashed. Blood sprayed hot against the snow. The wolf fell at my feet, throat open, eyes dimming.

Demian shoved me back, his snarl ripping through the storm. “Move, Amelia!”

The command snapped me. I staggered into motion, blade finally lifting, too late, always too late.

Kira whirled like a storm, blades singing. Corrin slammed his shoulder into one beast, teeth gritted, his sword driving deep. Elian’s strikes were precise, lethal, every movement calculated.

And Klaus—

Klaus moved like death itself, silent, swift, merciless. His blade cut down wolves before they could even lunge. He didn’t falter, didn’t flinch.

But his eyes—his eyes flicked to me between strikes.

Cold. Condemning.

I stumbled again, barely parrying a wolf that lunged low. Its jaws snapped inches from my face, hot breath and rot choking me. My blade caught its neck, but my arms trembled so badly the steel wavered.

Then Klaus was there.

His sword cleaved the beast in two, blood spraying across my cheek. His face twisted as he looked at me, disgust raw in his eyes.

“Pathetic,” he spat, before turning back into the fight.

The word cut deeper than claws.

\---

I wanted to vanish. To sink into the snow and never rise. But Demian’s roar snapped me back—he was surrounded, three wolves circling. His strikes were vicious, but they pressed harder, faster, their red eyes fixed on him.

My body moved before my mind caught up.

I screamed, dragging my blade up, and hurled myself at the nearest wolf. The strike was sloppy, wild, but it connected—steel biting into its flank. The beast howled, whipping toward me. For one heartbeat I thought I’d doomed myself.

But it gave Demian the opening he needed.

His sword drove through the last wolf’s skull.

The fight ended as fast as it had begun. Blood stained the snow, black and steaming. The air reeked of rot and iron. My chest heaved, my blade slick in my trembling hands.

I stood shaking, knees ready to buckle.

Klaus’s gaze cut across the battlefield, landing on me. His lip curled.

Demian strode to me instantly, his hand catching mine, his other cupping my cheek, checking for wounds. His eyes—gods, his eyes—burned with relief, with terror, with love so fierce it nearly undid me.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, voice ragged. “You’re safe, little flame.”

But Klaus’s voice cut across us like a blade.

“She nearly got you killed.”

\---

The words froze me.

Demian stiffened, his wolf surging under his skin, but I couldn’t even look at him. My eyes locked on Klaus, his blade dripping, his stare sharp as daggers.

“She freezes. She falters. You protect her, and we bleed for it. You bleed for it. How many more times, Demian? How many more graves before you cut her loose?”

The world spun. My throat closed.

Demian growled, stepping between us, but Klaus’s words had already carved into me. Deeper than the wolves, deeper than the cold.

Because they weren’t lies.

I had frozen. I had faltered.

And every time, it was Demian who bled for me.

\---

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stand under the weight of it. I turned, shoving my blade into its sheath with hands that shook too violently to control.

“I… I just need a moment,” I whispered, though no one asked.

And before Demian could stop me, before Klaus could spit more poison, I stumbled into the trees.

Snow crunched under my boots, my breath hitching sharp in the frozen air. Branches whipped against me, the cold cutting, but I kept moving.

Because if I stopped, if I turned back, I’d shatter.

I didn’t even know if I was running from Klaus’s hatred—or from the truth in his words.

\---

I collapsed against a tree, chest heaving, tears burning hot against the cold.

I hated him.

I hated Klaus for making me feel like this. For saying aloud the thing I feared most, the thing I whispered to myself in the dark when no one could hear: You are a burden. You will be his death.

But more than that, I hated myself.

Because I believed him.

\---

And then—

Snow crunched behind me.

“Amelia.”

Demian’s voice.

Low. Frantic. Raw.

I wiped at my eyes, but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

He appeared through the trees, breath steaming, eyes wild until they found me. Relief broke across his face, and he was at my side in an instant, cupping my face, searching me like I’d been ripped away from him.

“Don’t you ever walk off like that,” he said, voice breaking. “Not out here.”

“I can’t do this,” I whispered.

His hands stilled. “What?”

Tears spilled hot, unchecked. “He’s right. I freeze. I falter. You almost—” My throat closed around the words. “You almost died again, and it was because of me. I can’t keep dragging you under, Demian. I can’t—”

His mouth crashed against mine before I could finish.

Fierce. Desperate. Breaking.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed to mine, his voice was hoarse.

“You listen to me. You are not a burden. You are not weakness. You are mine. Do you understand? Mine.”

I sobbed against him, but he held me tighter, his arms a cage, unyielding.

And for the first time since Klaus’s words cut me open, I almost believed him.

Almost.

But in the back of my mind, the doubt still whispered.