Chapter 95

It was the dead of night, the world outside cloaked in silence, when Aelin awoke with a start. A sharp, searing pain bloomed across her neck, hot and merciless, as if her skin was being branded with fire. She sat up, disoriented, her fingers instinctively reaching for the spot where her mate mark had always rested, a place that had only ever brought her warmth and comfort.

But tonight, it burned.

The pain shot through her, sharp and relentless, leaving her gasping for breath. Sweat covered her skin in a thin, clammy layer, and as she pressed her fingers to the mark, a jolt of agony shot down her spine. Her vision blurred, her surroundings darkening as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

“A-Arsen!” she managed, her voice a choked whisper before a scream tore itself from her throat, filling the room with a sound that echoed off the walls, shattering the silence of the night.

Beside her, Arsen jerked awake, the alarm in his eyes clear even in the darkness. In an instant, he was by her side, his hands reaching for her, his eyes scanning her face as fear carved lines into his expression.

“Aelin, what’s wrong?” His voice was frantic, rough with sleep but sharpened by terror. His hands hovered over her, unsure where to touch, how to ease the pain twisting her features.

Her fingers clutched at her neck, her body doubling over as the pain intensified, spreading from her neck down through her chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. “It… it burns,” she gasped, her voice ragged. “The mark… it’s…”

Arsen’s eyes widened as he realized what she was saying, his gaze dropping to her neck. And there, in the dim light, he saw it—the mark they shared, the bond that had always connected them, was shifting, warping as if something were pulling it from her skin.

“No…” he whispered, horror washing over him. He reached for her, his fingers brushing over the mark, only to pull back as he felt the heat radiating from it, unnatural and wrong.

Before he could react, a wave of pain hit him, spreading from his own mate mark. His vision blurred, his strength slipping away as a foreign, chilling energy invaded his senses. He felt weak, unsteady, as though the very essence of who he was, of what he and Aelin shared, was being ripped from him.

Aelin’s scream grew louder, her body shuddering as the mark on her neck began to pulse, its light fading in and out, like a dying ember. Arsen’s hand shook as he reached for her, his own pain mirroring hers, every pulse of agony she felt reverberating through him.

“This… this can’t be happening,” he gasped, his voice barely a whisper as he fought to stay conscious, to stay with her. But the connection that had always tethered them, that unbreakable bond, was slipping, unraveling like a fraying rope.

Aelin tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat, choked by the pain that clawed at her, tearing her apart from the inside. She could feel something deep and vital weakening, a part of her she hadn’t realized she depended on until now. Her vision swam, her senses dimming as if a fog had descended over her mind.

“Arsen…” she managed, her voice broken, barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Arsen clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stay alert, his own pain mingling with hers. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t. But as he looked into her eyes, he could see the mark—their bond—fading, its glow dimming as if something were draining the life from it, from them.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his hand pressing against her back as if he could somehow shield her from the invisible force that was tearing them apart.

But his strength was failing, his limbs growing heavy as the spell wound its way deeper into their bond, each pulse of agony leaving him weaker, more vulnerable. He could feel it now—the residue of magic, dark and cold, seeping into their connection, unraveling the bond that had always been as much a part of them as their own hearts.

The memories flooded back, images of that day when Ascian had taken her, moments before Arsen had reached her. The fear he’d felt, the desperation—it all surged back now with brutal clarity, as he realized what had happened, what Ascian had done in those brief moments they’d been separated.

“Ascian…” he breathed, his voice laced with fury and dread. “He did this. He put a spell on you… on us.”

Aelin looked up at him, her eyes wide, filled with a fear that mirrored his own. “He’s… he’s trying to break us,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “To sever the bond.”

Arsen felt a fresh wave of anger surge through him, but it was quickly tempered by a crippling weakness, a coldness that seeped into his bones. The spell was working, whatever dark magic Ascian had woven into her was taking hold, feeding on their connection, draining the life from it.

“No,” he said, his voice a low, furious growl. He tightened his grip on her, his hand cradling her head as he pressed his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling, their pain shared. “I won’t let him take this from us. I won’t let him take you.”

But as he spoke, he felt the connection weakening further, slipping through his fingers like sand. The mark on her neck pulsed once more, then flickered, its light dimming until only the faintest trace remained.

Aelin’s body sagged against him, her strength waning as the pain ebbed, leaving her feeling hollow, empty. She could feel the absence, the void where the mark had once burned bright, now just a dull ache that throbbed with every heartbeat.

Arsen’s own mark felt cold, lifeless, as if it were merely a scar, a shadow of what it had once been. The realization hit him like a blow, a sinking dread settling over him as he looked down at her, his hands still cradling her face, his eyes searching hers.

“Aelin… our bond,” he whispered, the words barely audible. “It’s… it’s fading.”

She reached up, her fingers brushing over his hand, her touch weak but filled with a quiet determination. “We… we can’t let him win,” she said, her voice trembling but steady. “We have to fight this. Somehow… we have to fight.”

Arsen nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to gather what strength he had left. He could feel the spell’s grip loosening, the immediate pain fading, but the damage was done. The connection that had once been unbreakable, a bond that had always pulsed with life and warmth, was now a fragile thread, barely holding them together.

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, their breaths mingling in the darkness. The room was silent, the only sound the faint, unsteady rhythm of their hearts, a reminder of the battle they had yet to win.

After a long moment, Arsen pulled back, his hand lingering on her cheek as he looked into her eyes. “We’ll find a way to fix this,” he promised, his voice rough but filled with determination. “No matter what it takes, we’ll restore the bond. We’ll undo whatever Ascian has done.”

Aelin managed a small nod, though her eyes were still clouded with pain, with the knowledge that something vital had been taken from them. She could feel it, that emptiness where their bond had once been, a hollow ache that left her feeling exposed, vulnerable.

But as she looked up at him, at the fierce determination in his eyes, she felt a spark of hope. They had faced darkness before, had fought against forces that had threatened to tear them apart. And now, even with this shadow hanging over them, she knew they would fight again.

They held each other close, letting the silence settle over them, the darkness pressing in but unable to extinguish the light that still flickered between them. And as they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they silently vowed to overcome this, to reclaim what Ascian had tried to take, and to restore the bond that had always been the heart of who they were.