Duskbound

by Bree Grenwich

So as change typically goes, I abandoned what I once clung to. Darkness became a relic, and I turned my back on shadows in favor of the light. Never once did I think they’d return to claim me.

And maybe that was what scared me most of all. Not that I might fail, but that I might succeed. That I might walk into the Void and find out that this was who I was meant to be all along.

The memory of Laryk's voice whispered in my head. You're different. He'd meant it as a gift, but now the words felt like chains. How many times would I let others decide what that difference meant?

"I almost lost myself," I whispered, remembering the darkness that had threatened to consume me. "But you didn't." He picked up a small stone, turning it over in his hands. "That's the thing about power—it's not about controlling it perfectly. It's about choosing to keep fighting even when it feels impossible."

Rethlyn turned to look at me fully then. "It's not about proving them wrong, you know. It's about proving to yourself that you're worthy. That you always were." The words hit something deep

Laryk's face flashed in my mind—that crooked smirk, the rare occasion in which his emerald eyes would soften from the hardness he showed everyone else. I missed him with an intensity that scared me. Because I didn't know what we were.

"Sounds like he was creating a lovely new weapon in you." Vexa clicked her teeth. I went still. "I don't know why I'm bothering to explain any of this to you," I said, my voice trembling. "I didn't have a life—a purpose—until Laryk found me. I don't care how it comes across to you. I experienced it firsthand. I was drowning, and he saved me from myself."

"It caught me off guard. Made me angry. Not at you," she added quickly. "At them. At how they took someone with your power and tried to..." She gestured vaguely. "Turn me into a weapon?" I supplied, unable to keep the edge from my voice. "Into whatever they needed," she corrected softly. "With no regard to what they had taken from you. All while concealing the truth."

You're weak, the shadows snarled. You could be infinite. "I'd rather be myself," I whispered, and felt the truth of it burn through my veins.

My heart seized as Aether's form neared me, blood drenching his flesh, dripping from his hair and down that structured face in rivulets until it met his marked chest. His golden eyes burned into a liquid bronze as his stare raked over me. I could nearly feel every open wound pulsing as his eyes fell upon them.

This wasn't the controlled soldier I knew. This was something else entirely—something that had just turned a dozen bodies inside out with a mere flick of his wrist. Not with shadows, but by pure will. "Fia." His voice was softer now, though it trembled. He moved slower, each motion careful as he reached for me again. "I won't hurt you."

"I'm sorry," he said finally, his breath warm against my ear. "It's not your fault." The words came out barely above a whisper as moisture formed in my eyes.

A blade dragged across my collarbone—sharp, cold, real. I stumbled back, crashing into the wall as my hands flew to my throat. The metallic scent of blood filled my nose, but when I pulled my fingers away, they were clean. My heart slammed against my ribs as I stared at my trembling hands. Not real not real not real.

"So you tell the Council. You tell them that what Valkan did was an act of war. You tell them that he captured and fed from the heir to the throne of Umbrathia."

"Everything you've done since you've been in Umbrathia has been selfless. I've never wanted to know someone so much."

Something violent crossed Aether's eyes, all trace of amusement draining from his face. And suddenly, I felt like we were entering dangerous territory. "Are you in love with him?" His voice was cold. The question shocked me, and before I could even think it through, I heard myself whisper, "I thought I was."

"I felt nothing for decades." His voice was rough. "Existed, but barely lived. Hiding from no one other than myself, but hiding all the same. And then you showed up. And now..." His voice trailed off, pain crossing his face as he tried to collect himself. A dark familiarity tugged at me. "I've tried to go back to that place. But I can't find my way there. I'm not sure it even exists anymore. Not since you showed up and destroyed every wall I'd built."

"She may trust all of you, but I don't." Shadows writhed beneath his skin. "And I will not stand by while the heir to the throne of Umbrathia is led into a death trap."

Ma leaned back, running both hands through her hair until it fell completely loose from its bun. After what felt like forever, she let out a laugh that sounded more like defeat. "I always knew the Guard was pure fucking evil."

It nearly flipped my world upside down to see him standing so close to the desk I had worked at for years before even knowing he existed—with his void burns trailing up his neck like dark veins, disappearing into his raven hair.

"No, listen." She pulled back, her hands on my shoulders. "I've spent years watching you try to make yourself smaller, trying to fit into boxes that this realm forced you into. But you never could, could you?" Her eyes were bright with tears. "Because you're not meant to be small, Fia. You never were."

"I know I can't blame you for anything that happened before," he added quickly. “I'm just trying to rationalize why it affects me this way."

The same hands that had shuffled through countless pages to figure out exactly who I was—the same hands that had carried me out of Draxon. His hands. Aether's hands. They were warm, almost burning.

Finally, his gaze fell on the floor, leading to where I stood. I'll never be able to put into words the look that crossed his face as his eyes found mine.

But where there had once been an inferno, now there was only hollow space. Not even embers burning in the distance.

"I'll do whatever you need me to." The look in his eyes—the desperation caused guilt to churn through me. Because it wasn't him. It was me. I was the one who changed.

Something cracked in his expression before rage flooded his features. He whirled on Aether. "You let this happen to her?" The words came out as a snarl, his knuckles white around the dagger's hilt. The accusation struck Aether and I could see him physically recoil as his golden eyes fell to the floor.

"But I want you to know that I'm not doing this to save a realm. I'm doing it because you asked me to. Because it's what you want." His hand lingered on my jaw, his fingers trailing across my skin softly. The touch sent memories of shivers across me. "I'll prove myself worthy of you."

"Perhaps," he finally said, "you're easier to manipulate if you think you can't be manipulated by him."

The response was instant. Violent. Beautiful. The right crystal exploded with light, flooding with pearlescent energy that matched my eyes. Pure starlight, captured in stone. The left crystal devoured all light around it, filling with writhing shadows that seemed to breathe. Light and dark. Balance.

"The Blade of the Realm, of course." He moved closer, his fingers trailing over one of the arcanite shards. "It's what we call our leader, our Queen." He shook his head, something like wonder crossing his features.

"I believe I understand now." Aether's eyes swept across the field, falling on the arcanite where essence pooled just beneath its crystalline surface. "All of those decades spent here, all of the sleepless nights searching for any kind of meaning to my existence—it was so that I could find you."

"I give myself to you," he said, voice deadly calm. "My life, my shadows, my loyalty—they belong to you now. Not because you're the heir to this realm, but because you're the only thing I've ever wanted to believe in."

Staring down at me, was the face of Vilda Valtýr, as young and vibrant as she'd appeared in my last dream. I thought back to the girl that was never allowed to attend balls, who was always sinking into the shadows of her Duskbound sister.