Ava
The night after the kiss stretched long and sleepless. I sat by the window, watching the fog drift across the sea until the horizon blurred into nothing. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt him, Casimir's heartbeat thrumming beneath my skin, the echo of his breath in mine. The mark beneath my collarbone pulsed softly, glowing whenever I thought of him. It was both comfort and curse, the thread that bound us between worlds.
The candle burned low. The scent of smoke mingled with salt and rosemary. I pressed my fingers to my lips, remembering the way he had tasted, like rain and something darker, something I could never name. The bond between us hummed, alive and restless.
Sleep came only in fragments. When it did, it brought the voice with it.
Elijah.
The name whispered through my dreams like a promise. The voice was deep, calm, and almost tender. "You woke me," it said. "You called me back."
I tried to turn away, but the darkness followed. I saw the sea again, black and endless, the same golden eyes burning beneath the surface. "You carry what was mine," he murmured. "And I will have it returned."
I woke with a gasp. My skin was slick with sweat, the mark burning faintly beneath the thin fabric of my nightdress. The candle had gone out, but the room was not dark. Silver light spilled from my chest, illuminating the air in faint ripples. For a heartbeat, I thought I heard my name again, spoken not in a dream but in a whisper that came from the room itself.
Then a sound broke through the silence.
"Mama."
I turned. Oliver stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. His voice was small, uncertain. "There was someone in my dream," he said. "He was standing in the sea. He said your name."
My heart stopped. "Who, Ollie? Who did you see?"
He hesitated. "A man made of shadow. But his eyes were gold."
The same eyes from my dreams. The same voice. "Did he tell you his name?" I asked softly.
Oliver nodded. "Elijah."
I froze. The name hung between us, heavy and sharp. The air shifted, growing colder. The mark beneath my skin pulsed once in answer, as if it recognized the sound.
"Go back to bed," I whispered. "Please."
But he shook his head. "He said he is coming. He said the wolf cannot keep you."
Before I could speak, the glass jars on the shelf began to rattle. The air hummed faintly with the sound of the Veil. I felt the pressure behind my ribs rise, the invisible thread pulling tighter. I closed my eyes and forced my breathing steady. The trembling stopped. When I opened my eyes again, Oliver had already fallen asleep on the floor, his head resting against the counter.
I carried him to bed, my hands shaking the whole time. His skin was warm, his breath steady, but when I brushed the hair from his forehead, faint veins of silver glimmered beneath the surface. I pulled the blanket over him and sat by his side until dawn.
---
By morning, the light felt wrong again. It poured through the windows but brought no warmth. I brewed tea to keep my hands from trembling. The mark ached beneath my dress, tender and alive. I could still hear the echo of the name in my mind. Elijah. It did not sound like a stranger's name. It sounded like something I had once known and forgotten.
Nicholas arrived not long after sunrise. His coat was damp from mist, his expression carved from worry. "You have not slept," he said quietly.
I managed a faint smile. "Neither have you."
His eyes swept over me, lingering on the faint shimmer beneath the fabric of my dress. "It glows when you lie," he said.
I ignored him and poured the tea. "You came for news?"
He nodded. "The King worsens. His blood has turned dark again." He hesitated before adding, "He feels it through the bond, does he not?"
I looked away. "We both do."
Nicholas's jaw tightened. "And the boy?"
"He is asleep," I said. "He…dreamed."
Nicholas set his cup down. "What did he dream?"
I hesitated, then reached for the parchment Oliver had been drawing on before dawn. I slid it across the table. A single figure stood in the sketch, a man made of shadow and gold, rising from the sea. His eyes glinted faintly with smudged ink. The lines looked too deliberate for a child's hand.
Nicholas's face drained of color. "He should not know that name."
"He said it himself."
Nicholas stared at the drawing, his voice low. "That name belongs to no living man." He looked up sharply. "He knows you now. Once he has your name, he will not stop until he owns it."
The words chilled me. "How do you know that?"
"Because I was there," he said softly. "The night the first seal was made. Elijah was not killed, Ava. He was bound. And he remembers every hand that touched the Veil."
Before I could answer, the door burst open.
Casimir stood there, his hair damp from rain, his eyes burning gold beneath the shadows. The mark along his arm glowed faintly through his sleeve. He looked from me to Nicholas to the parchment on the table. His expression changed the moment he saw it.
"Where did you hear that name?" he demanded.
"From the sea," I said quietly.
He turned to Nicholas. "Did you tell her?"
"I did not have to," Nicholas replied. "Your bond told her everything."
Casimir's hands clenched. "This is not a conversation for..."
"For what?" I cut in. "For me? For truth? You knew this would come. You knew he was reaching."
He looked at me, pain flickering behind his anger. "You do not understand what he is."
"Then make me understand."
Casimir's voice dropped, low and steady. "Elijah was my blood. The firstborn heir of our line. He tried to tear the worlds apart to save the woman he loved. When the gods struck him down, his heart became the core of the Veil. His curse is our inheritance."
My breath caught. "And now he calls to me."
"He calls to what he lost," Casimir said. "He believes it lives in you."
Nicholas stepped closer, his voice sharp. "You see now why I warned you both. The bond between you repeats what began with him. The same blood. The same mark. The same ruin."
Oliver's voice broke the silence. "He said you cannot save her without becoming him."
We all turned. He stood in the doorway, sleepy but awake, his small voice soft but clear. "He said the wolf will fall first."
Casimir's eyes widened. The candle beside us flickered, its flame stretching tall, then bursting into sparks. The air surged with power, heavy and cold. The mark on my skin flared white, and the mark on Casimir's arm answered.
Nicholas grabbed the child, pulling him back. "Enough!"
I stepped between them, reaching for Casimir. "Stop."
The moment my hand touched his chest, the light dimmed. The hum faded. The world steadied.
He looked down at me, breathing hard. "You should not have touched me."
"I just saved you."
He stared at me for a long moment before speaking. "You keep doing that."
Nicholas exhaled, still holding Oliver. "You are both cursed," he said quietly. "And you still think this is love."
Casimir turned to him. "You think I do not know what this is?"
"I think you are pretending it is something you can survive."
Casimir did not reply. He only looked at me, and whatever I saw in his eyes stole the words from my throat.
---
Casimir
Night fell again, though I did not sleep. I stood outside the apothecary, the mist curling around my feet. The sea beyond the cliffs was black as glass. The rain came softly, a whisper against the stone. When I looked down, I saw my reflection in a puddle, my face, my eyes, and behind them something that was not me.
"You cannot save her without becoming me," the reflection said.
The voice was Elijah's. Calm. Familiar. I struck the puddle with my boot, shattering the image. The water rippled, then stilled, and my own face stared back at me again.
I lifted my head to the horizon, where the sea met the sky in a dark line. "Then I will burn before I ever become you."
The name lingered in the air long after it was spoken, heavy enough to break the world in two.