Sleep doesn’t come easily anymore. Not with him just down the hall. Not with this… thing around my throat.
The choker feels like nothing. And yet everything. A spider’s thread spun from grief and control. I can’t summon heat anymore. It’s as if my magic has been locked behind glass—visible but unreachable. Mocking me.
I close my eyes. Just for a moment. Let the dark carry me. Let it take me.
The dream is quiet at first. Soft. Blurry.
I walk barefoot through fog, cool mist curling at my ankles. The air hums with something familiar. The scent of him, maybe—ash and spice and storm-drenched skin.
Then I hear it.
“Lillien.”
It echoes like it’s been whispered into the bones of the earth. I follow.
“Lillien…”
It grows louder. Clearer. Beckoning. And then I know.
Cassiel. His voice—warm, melodic, laced with something holy and broken. He’s holding the veil. Calling me.
I move faster. The fog thins. And then—Deimos appears.
He steps through the mist like a storm given form, shadows clinging to his shoulders, his eyes locked on mine. Wild. Desperate. Beautiful.
“Deimos.” My voice cracks. I run to him, stumbling, breathless. “Deimos!”
He catches me as I crash into him, arms wrapping around his neck, his hands hard at my waist. The heat of him. Solid. Real. My knees almost give.
“I don’t have long,” he rasps, breath ragged. “Cassiel’s holding the veil, but it won’t last.”
Tears burn. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words raw. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to go?—”
“Then why the fuck did you?” His voice rips out—sharp, furious, broken. “Why didn’t you trust me?”
I flinch, but I don’t let go. “Zepharion… he showed me, Deimos. Over and over. You dead. Bastion torn apart. Cassiel burning from the inside out. I couldn’t—” My voice fractures. “I couldn’t let it happen.”
His hands grip my waist harder, bruising. His teeth bare. “And you thought the answer was to run? To take him on yourself? You stupid, reckless—” His voice chokes off, strangled by grief. “You should’ve trusted us. You should’ve trusted me.”
I press my forehead to his chest. “I thought if I went first, if I took the risk, I could save you.” My voice breaks to a whisper. “I couldn’t lose you.”
“You almost fucking did,” he growls, pulling me tighter. “You nearly lostyourself.”
“I know,” I sob. “I was wrong.”
He cups my face then, rough but careful, forcing me to meet his eyes. Fire rages in them. Fury and terror. “You don’t walk into war alone, Lillien. Not when you belong to us. Not when you belong tome.”
My throat burns with shame. But there’s more. “There’s something else,” I whisper.
His brow furrows.
I swallow hard. “He’s going to marry me.”
The words slice the air open. Deimos goes still. Rigid. His fury is palpable, vibrating under his skin like a storm about to break.
“He announced it in front of his court,” I force out. “The wedding’s in days. Maybe sooner. He says it will bind me to him permanently. Politically. Magically. That no one will be able to challenge it.”
The silence that follows is alive. Heavy. Waiting to detonate.
