Chapter 85
Chapter 85
Amelia POV
Demian’s arms were iron around me, as if he thought sheer force could stop me from breaking apart. His breath burned hot against my hair, ragged, uneven, like he’d run through hell just to reach me. Maybe he had.
“Mine,” he said again, lower this time, rougher. As if saying it enough would etch the word into my bones.
And gods, part of me wanted to let it. To let that single word drown the fear, smother the doubt, silence Klaus’s venom still dripping in my ears. But words didn’t erase truth, did they?
My body shook harder, not from the cold but from the war clawing through me. I wanted to believe him. Needed to. But belief didn’t change the memory of those glowing red eyes, didn’t erase the way my blade had trembled in my hands, didn’t unmake the way I froze while the world lunged at me with teeth.
Klaus hadn’t been wrong. That was the worst part.
“I almost got you killed,” I whispered against his chest.
He stiffened, like I’d just stabbed him deeper than any wolf could. His hand tightened at the back of my neck, forcing my gaze up, forcing me to see the wildfire in his eyes.
“You didn’t,” he growled. “Do you understand? You didn’t. You saved me.”
I let out a broken laugh, bitter and sharp. “Saved you? I swung wild and stupid and nearly painted the snow with my insides.”
His grip on my face hardened, not cruel, but unrelenting. “You pulled one off me. You gave me the opening to end it. You didn’t freeze then, Amelia. You fought.”
The bond between us surged, pulsing with the heat of his wolf, with the fierce certainty he shoved into me. But no matter how hard he tried to burn the doubt away, it clung. Sticky. Poisonous.
Because Klaus’s voice hadn’t been a lie. It had been a mirror. And I’d seen myself in it.
\---
The silence between us stretched, broken only by my shuddering breaths and the distant crunch of the others regrouping beyond the trees. The storm had quieted, but the weight of snow above us pressed down like a smothering hand.
“Demian…” I whispered, my throat raw. “What if I can’t be what you need me to be out here?”
“You already are.” His voice cut sharp, absolute, as if daring me to argue. His thumb brushed my tears, though his own eyes gleamed with unshed ones. “You think strength is never faltering? Never stumbling? That’s not strength. Strength is standing back up, little flame. And that’s what you do. Every godsdamned time.”
His conviction burned, fierce enough to thaw the frost eating at my bones. And yet… beneath it all, my chest ached.
Because even if he saw me as strong, Klaus never would. And as much as I wanted to dismiss that, his words mattered. His judgment mattered. Not because I craved his approval, but because I knew what it meant to Demian. His brother wasn’t just blood—he was history. Bond. War and survival.
And I was the fracture between them.
\---
Demian’s hand slid down my arm until his fingers laced with mine. He tugged gently. “Come back. Before Elian drags both of us through the snow by the ears.”
I swallowed hard, nodding. My legs shook when I pushed off the tree, but Demian’s arm stayed firm around me, steadying me. Each step back to the camp felt heavier, like I was dragging more than just my own weight.
When the trees thinned and the fire’s dying glow came back into view, I caught the way every head lifted.
Kira’s gaze was sharp, measuring. Corrin grunted, relief flickering in his eyes before he masked it with a scowl. Elian—he only tilted his head, but the tension in his jaw told me he’d clocked every second of my absence.
And Klaus—
He didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes landed on me like knives, carving me open all over again. His lip curled, disgust etched plain across his face.
Demian’s hand tightened around mine. A warning. A tether.
But Klaus’s voice didn’t come. Not yet.
He sheathed his blade with a snap and turned his back, trudging into the snow without a word.
\---
The march started again, heavier than before. No one spoke. The air was brittle, the silence sharp enough to cut. Every crunch of snow under my boots felt deafening. Every breath clouded in the air felt like it carried accusation.
Demian stayed close, his warmth anchoring me, but I couldn’t shake Klaus’s eyes burning holes into my spine even when he wasn’t looking.
The path wound steeper, drifts rising to our knees. My lungs screamed, my legs trembled, but I forced them to keep moving. Not for me—for Demian. For the promise in his eyes when he kissed me like I was worth the world.
But with every stumble, every hitch in my breath, I felt Klaus’s shadow heavier. Even when I didn’t look, I could feel it.
Judgment. Condemnation.
And the whisper in the back of my skull: He’s right.
\---
By dusk, we found a ridge that offered some cover from the wind. The group moved like clockwork, setting up another meager camp. Elian gave orders with his usual calm precision, Kira and Corrin followed without question, Demian stayed near me—too near, as if letting me out of his reach for even a second might shatter him.
But Klaus… he lingered on the edge again, separate. Always separate.
The fire sputtered weakly, throwing more shadow than warmth. I huddled close to Demian, my body aching for heat, for rest, but my mind wouldn’t quiet. Every word Klaus had spat replayed until I wanted to scream.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it.
I pushed off Demian’s lap, ignoring the concern flashing in his eyes. “I need some air,” I muttered.
He started to rise, but I pressed a hand to his chest. “Stay. Please.”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded.
I slipped past the fire, the cold biting instantly at my face. I thought maybe I’d get a moment alone, just a breath where Klaus’s shadow couldn’t reach me.
But I should’ve known better.
The crunch of deliberate steps followed me into the dark.
“Running again?”
His voice was ice.
I spun, my breath puffing white, and there he was. Klaus. Blade at his side, eyes blacker than the storm.
“I’m not running,” I bit out.
His laugh was low, humorless. “That’s all you do. Freeze, falter, and run. And Demian bleeds for it.”
The words sliced all over again. I wanted to scream at him, deny it, but my throat locked. Because some part of me feared he was right.
So I forced steel into my spine instead. “You hate me so much, Klaus? Fine. But don’t you dare stand there and act like you know what Demian needs. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I can be.”
His lip curled. “I know enough. I know you’ll be his death.”
The words hit like a blade to the gut. My breath stuttered, tears pricking hot, but I didn’t let them fall. Not in front of him. Not him.
I took a step closer, anger rising sharp and raw. “If you think I’ll let him fall because of me, you’re wrong. I will fight. I don’t care if I’m shaking, if I’m bleeding, if I’m crawling—I’ll fight. Because I’d rather die beside him than live knowing I let your damn prophecy come true.”
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes. Not approval. Not even respect. But hesitation. A crack.
Then he turned away, his shoulders rigid. “Words,” he muttered. “Just words.”
And he walked back toward the fire, leaving me trembling in the snow, my chest burning with fury and hurt and something else—something that felt dangerously like defiance.
\---
When I returned, Demian’s eyes locked on me instantly, searching. I slid back into his warmth, my body pressing into his as if I could steal his fire. His arm wrapped around me without hesitation, pulling me close.
But my mind wasn’t quiet.
Not anymore.
Klaus’s words still echoed, yes—but so did my own.
I would fight.
Not for Klaus. Not to prove him wrong.
For Demian. For us. For the bond that burned through every vein in my body.
Even if I had to tear myself apart to do it.
\---
The night dragged on, restless and brittle. The fire dwindled to embers, the cold creeping in, but my eyes refused to close. My thoughts spun too fast, too loud.
And when the first howl split the night—low, mournful, hungry—I knew sleep wasn’t coming anyway.
I sat straighter, my pulse leaping. Demian’s arm tightened instantly, his body going rigid beside me. Kira’s blades whispered free, Corrin cursed awake, Elian was already on his feet before the second howl echoed.
And Klaus—
Klaus’s eyes were already on me.
Cold. Condemning.
But this time, I didn’t look away.
Because if danger was coming, I was done freezing.