Then Domno appeared like some dark guardian from the shadows, and something inside me that had been locked away for so long stirred to life. Not just desire—though gods know that burned bright enough—but something more dangerous: hope.
I press the heels of my palms against my eyes, willing back the hot threat of tears. My throat constricts painfully as I swallow them down. I won't cry over him. I've shed too many tears already in this life; I won't waste more on a demon who'd seen me as nothing but prey.
Except... had he?
I think of how he looked at Erisen—not with calculation or disgust, but with something like wonder. How his massive hands, scarred from countless battles, would become impossiblygentle when showing my son a new pebble for his collection. How he'd sit at our rickety table, his broad frame making our shabby dwelling seem smaller, yet somehow safer.
"Damn you," I hiss into the darkness, the words catching like thorns in my throat.
The emptiness of the temple mocks me. Six years of running, of keeping everyone at arm's length, and now I've pushed away the one person who made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to run forever.
My arms feel too empty. My skin remembers his touch—calloused fingers tracing paths of fire along my collarbone, my shoulders, down the curve of my spine. The heat of his mouth against mine, drinking me in like I was something precious. Not possession, not ownership, but reverence.
Was it all a lie? A hunter's trick to make his quarry compliant?
I wrap my arms around my knees, making myself small as the vastness of what I've just done crashes over me. I've spent so long running from Vorrak that I forgot what it was like to run toward something instead. And now I'll never know if what sparked between Domno and me could have become something worth the risk.
"Maybe I just lost the one person who would've stayed," I whisper, my voice breaking on the final word.
Especially as I remember everything we've been through. How he saved Erisen and helped him read. How he made him little wooden carvings. Domno spent hours on it, whittling away in patient silence while Erisen watched with fascination. It wasn't the gift of someone playing a role. It was something real in a world that had given us so little to believe in.
But I can't trust that feeling. I've been wrong before, trusted and paid dearly. The scars Vorrak left run deeper than skin.
So I square my shoulders and harden my heart against the ache. Tomorrow we'll pack what little we have and find somewhere new. Somewhere Erisen can grow up without fearing shadows. Somewhere I can forget the weight of golden eyes that saw through every wall I'd built.
23
ESALYN
Ipull myself together, wiping angry tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. Dwelling in misery won't change anything. We still need to leave at first light. I've done this before—packed our meager belongings and disappeared without a trace. This time will be no different.
Except it is. Because this time, I'm not just running from a monster. I'm running from someone who made me feel things I'd forgotten were possible.
I push those thoughts away and rise to my feet, my knees protesting after too long on cold stone. The abandoned temple groans around me, ancient wood and stone shifting in the night wind. I need to check on Erisen, make sure he's still sleeping peacefully. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.
The flickering candlelight casts long shadows as I make my way back to where I left him sleeping. My body feels heavy, like I'm wading through deep water, each step requiring more effort than it should. Exhaustion or heartbreak—I'm not sure which weighs more.
But as I approach his sleeping space, a growing sense of unease prickles along my spine. It's too quiet. The small bundleI expect to see rising and falling with his breath is oddly misshapen. Something isn't right.
"Erisen?" I call softly, quickening my pace as I push open the door to the room.
The blanket is twisted and empty, bunched up where his small body should be. The wooden bird Domno carved for him lies on the floor, its delicate wings catching the dim light. But my son is nowhere to be seen.
My stomach drops, a cold void opening inside me. My heart stutters, then races.
"Erisen?" I call again, louder this time, panic threading through my voice as I spin in place, checking every corner of the small chamber. "Erisen!"
The echo of my voice bounces off ancient stone walls, mocking me with its emptiness. The temple suddenly feels vast and threatening, full of hidden corners and crumbling passages where a small boy could be lost—or taken.
My mind jumps immediately to the worst possibility: Vorrak found us. He's taken our son while I was distracted with my broken heart over a demon who betrayed us. Or maybe it was Domno himself—perhaps his words were just another deception, and he's completed his bounty by taking what matters most.
Something inside me snaps. Six years of vigilance, of never sleeping deeply, of watching every shadow—all undone in a moment of weakness. I collapse to the floor, my legs giving way beneath me.
"No, no, no," I sob, my fists beating against the unyielding stone. "Erisen! ERISEN!"
The pain in my hands feels distant, inconsequential compared to the agony tearing through my chest. My worst fear has come true—I let someone in, and now my son is gone.
I clutch Domno's carved bird to my chest, its edges digging into my palm. My tears fall onto its wooden wings, darkening the grain. I trusted. I wavered. I let my guard down for one moment, and the price is everything.
