Flirting with the dark, p.10
Flirting With the Dark, page 10
“You’re fighting for me too.”
Rowan swallowed hard. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He touched his forehead to hers — gentle, grounding, impossibly intimate.
“You won’t,” he murmured.
“I trust you. You have to trust yourself.”
Another crack shook the boundary.
The sanctuary lights flickered—
Elias’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
“Because he’s coming, Rowan.”
A shadow moved at the tree line.
“And when he steps inside...”
Elias’s shadow curled protectively around her waist.
“...you will have to choose whether to use your power — even if it means risking me.”
Rowan’s breath hitched.
Because she already knew her choice.
And she wasn’t sure it would save either of them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The boundary didn’t shatter.
It fractured.
Like ice under too much pressure.
A razor-thin crack flared across the sanctuary’s light wall — white fire streaking through gold. Rowan’s breath froze in her chest.
“Elias—”
“I see it.”
His voice was low, grim, unmistakably afraid.
Another impact struck the barrier, louder, deeper — like a fist made of darkness slamming against the bones of the earth.
The sanctuary stones flickered.
Dimmed.
Then struggled back to full glow.
Kael hit the boundary again.
And again.
Each time, the cracks pulsed brighter, spiderwebbing outward like something hungry gnawing its way in.
Rowan stumbled back.
“Can he break through?”
“No,” Elias said immediately.
Then—
“...Not yet.”
Rowan’s pulse spiked. The bond pulled painfully, reacting to her fear, making Elias flinch.
“Rowan—steady,” he whispered. “You have to keep your heart calm.”
“He’s breaking the sanctuary!”
“Yes.”
A dark beat.
“And that’s exactly why you have to stay centered. If you panic, the bond will flare and weaken the stones.”
She shook her head. “I—I don’t know how to stay calm right now!”
Elias stepped into her space and grabbed her hands.
“Then feel me,” he said. “Feel the bond. Use it.”
Rowan swallowed.
He pressed her palms to his chest.
His heartbeat thudded against her skin — fast, yes, but steady. Grounding. Warm.
“Focus on my breath,” he murmured.
She inhaled.
He inhaled with her.
She exhaled.
He matched it, slow and controlled.
The bond eased — still trembling, but no longer pulling them under.
“Good,” Elias whispered. “You’re doing good. Stay with me.”
Another vicious impact hit the boundary.
A fissure tore across the sanctuary wall.
This time Elias swore under his breath — something sharp and ancient in a language Rowan didn’t recognize.
“What’s happening?” she asked, voice small.
Elias’s jaw clenched.
“He’s found a weak point.”
“Where?”
Elias motioned toward the far edge of the circle — the side Rowan realized she’d been closest to during her awakening.
“The sanctuary poured too much energy into stabilizing you,” he murmured. “It hasn’t fully recovered.”
Another impact.
The crack deepened.
Rowan felt pressure against her skull — a cold whisper brushing her mind.
Little light...
She gasped, clutching Elias’s shirt.
“He’s inside my mind again—”
“No.” Elias grabbed her face gently but firmly.
“He’s not. You’re hearing the boundary strain. Nothing more. Kael can’t reach you through the bond unless you drop your guard.”
“I’m trying—”
“You are doing enough.”
The ground shook.
Elias pulled her behind him, one arm locking around her waist protectively as shadows rose along his back again — forming a wall of dark, rippling armor.
Rowan pressed a hand to his shoulder.
“Elias... what do we do?”
He spoke without looking back.
“You’re going to try unraveling.”
Rowan’s stomach plummeted. “No. You said—”
“I know what I said.”
He turned to face her fully, shadows still flaring around them.
“And if it were only me on the line,” he murmured, “I’d never let you do this.”
“Elias—”
“But it isn’t just me. It’s you. It’s the sanctuary. It’s every flare and shadow the Hollow has left.”
His voice softened.
“And... I trust you.”
Rowan’s eyes burned.
“Even if it kills you?”
He held her gaze.
Steady.
Unflinching.
“Yes.”
Her breath stuttered — a painful, disbelieving sound.
Elias’s expression softened, turning heartbreakingly gentle.
“If you’re going to unravel anything,” he murmured, “you should learn it from someone who loves you.”
Rowan froze.
Her heart stopped.
“Elias—what—”
He shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter what I feel. It matters what we have to do.”
The bond throbbed — warm, sharp, alive.
And Rowan knew.
He wasn’t lying.
He might not be ready to say the words outright.
But they were there.
In his voice.
In his touch.
In the way his shadow curled protectively around her like instinct.
Another impact struck the sanctuary.
The crack widened.
Elias took both her hands and lifted them between them.
“Rowan,” he said, voice low and steady, “I’m going to guide you.”
Her fingers trembled.
“Tell me what to do.”
“When I say ‘call,’ you reach for your light. Hard.”
“And when do I stop?”
“When I tell you to,” he said. “Or when the bond pulses twice.”
She nodded.
“Elias?”
“Yes?”
“If I hurt you—”
“You won’t,” he whispered.
“And if you do—”
His eyes softened.
“—I’ll survive it.”
The sanctuary crack pulsed again.
Elias positioned her hands outward, facing the boundary.
He stepped behind her, guiding her stance, his hands closing over her shoulders.
“Ready?” he murmured against her ear.
Rowan’s knees almost buckled.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Shadows tightened around his arms.
“Rowan...”
She steadied her breath.
“...call your light.”
Rowan reached inward.
The moment she did, power roared through her veins — bright, wild, rising fast.
Too fast.
“Slow—Rowan, slow—”
“I can’t—Elias, it’s too strong—”
“Push it forward,” he commanded. “Not into yourself—out.”
She tried.
Light exploded from her palms in a violent flare.
Elias grunted behind her as the surge hit him too, shadows ripping sideways to shield them both.
“Good!” he gasped. “Again!”
Rowan pushed harder.
The flare of light struck the sanctuary crack —
and the boundary flickered—
Kael screamed.
Not a howl.
A sound of pain.
Of fury.
“He felt that,” Elias hissed. “Again!”
Rowan pushed her light forward —
harder, cleaner, with more control—
The boundary glowed brighter—
the crack healing—
the sanctuary strengthening around them—
Kael shrieked again, more distant.
Rowan staggered as the power drained.
Elias caught her.
The boundary sealed completely.
Light steadied.
Kael’s presence ripped away from the edge of the forest — weakened, furious, retreating.
Rowan collapsed against Elias, breath shaking.
“You did it,” he whispered, his voice reverent.
“Rowan — you did it.”
She clung to him, trembling.
“Is he gone?” she whispered.
“For now,” Elias said. “You hurt him. You actually hurt him.”
Rowan’s vision blurred.
“I thought I’d kill you,” she whispered.
“You almost did.”
His thumb brushed her cheek.
“And I’d do it again.”
The bond pulsed warm — steady — alive.
Elias rested his forehead gently against hers.
“Rowan,” he murmured,
“he’ll be back.”
She swallowed. “When?”
“Soon.”
A shadow slid down his spine.
“He won’t stop now.”
Rowan tightened her grip on his shirt.
“Then neither will we.”
Elias’s breath caught.
The bond hummed.
And even the sanctuary seemed to agree.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The sanctuary always glowed warm.
But tonight, Rowan felt cold.
Not physically — her skin was still humming from the unraveling — but deep.
Bone-deep.
A hollow, lingering ache like her light had burned too hot, too fast, and now she couldn’t pull the echoes back inside.
Elias felt it through the bond.
He reached for her before she could crumple completely, drawing her down to sit beside him on the moss-covered stone. Shadows curled at his back like wings folding away — protective, soft.
“Easy,” he murmured, lifting a hand to her cheek. “Everything in you is crashing at once.”
Rowan swallowed weakly.
“It feels awful.”
“I know.”
His thumb swept beneath her eye.
“It’s the recoil.”
“The what?”
“Your light hit something ancient,” he said. “Kael’s core is... older than the Hollow. Stronger than any seeker. You didn’t just strike him — you destabilized him.”
Rowan winced. “Is that good?”
“For us?” Elias hesitated. “Yes.”
“For him?” Rowan asked.
“He’ll recover,” Elias said darkly. “He always does.”
Rowan’s hands trembled in her lap. “I... I felt him break. Just for a second.”
Elias’s jaw clenched.
“Good.”
Rowan blinked. “You’re not... afraid of what I did?”
He looked at her — really looked — and the shadows around him softened, dimming like they were listening.
“Rowan,” he said quietly, “I’m proud of what you did.”
Her breath stuttered.
“Proud?” she repeated.
He nodded once, decisive.
“You faced a darkness most flares never fight in their lifetime. And you pushed it back.”
“But I lost control,” she whispered.
“You pushed too hard,” he corrected, “because you’re still learning how to carry your own strength.”
He cupped her wrist gently, guiding her hand to rest over her own heart.
“You didn’t lose control. You reached beyond what you knew. There’s a difference.”
Warmth flickered faintly under her skin.
Elias felt it.
He smiled — just the barest curve of his mouth.
“See?” he whispered. “Your light is still there.”
Rowan bit her lip, voice shaking.
“But I felt... angry.”
“You should,” he said simply.
Her eyes widened.
“Rowan, Kael tried to break into your mind. He tried to shatter the sanctuary. He was hunting you when you didn’t even know what you were.”
Elias’s voice deepened, fierce and calm all at once.
“You have every reason to be angry. That anger isn’t weakness.”
He lifted her chin gently.
“It’s survival.”
Her throat tightened. “I hate that this is my life now.”
“I know.”
His voice softened.
“But it won’t always be like this. You’ll get stronger. We both will.”
She leaned into him without thinking — drawn to the warmth of him, the steadiness, the way the bond hummed when she touched him. Elias didn’t hesitate. His arm came around her shoulders, pulling her into the curve of him, shadows settling like a protective cloak.
For a long moment, Rowan simply breathed.
Elias did too.
But the peace didn’t hold.
The sanctuary trembled — softly this time, not from attack, but as if delivering a message.
Elias stiffened.
Rowan looked up. “What does that mean?”
He listened — head tilted slightly, eyes distant — like the sanctuary was whispering directly into his mind.
“Something’s changed,” he murmured. “The boundary is stable, but...”
He frowned.
“...the forest is moving.”
“The forest?” Rowan echoed. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Elias said grimly, rising to his feet and helping her stand, “Kael isn’t attacking the sanctuary anymore.”
Rowan’s stomach twisted. “Then where is he?”
Elias’s eyes darkened.
“He’s moving around it.”
“Why would he—”
“To find another way in.”
Rowan froze. “There’s another entrance?”
“Not a true entrance,” Elias said. “But a breach point.”
Her breath hitched.
“Where?”
Silence.
Elias didn’t answer.
Because something in the bond —
something cold, sharp, and horrifying —
answered for him.
A jolt of icy dread struck Rowan’s chest.
Her knees nearly buckled.
“Elias—”
He grabbed her immediately.
“Rowan. What did you feel?”
Her voice broke.
“A pull. Like... someone tugging on a thread. But it wasn’t my light. It was—”
She stared at him, panic rising.
“Elias, it was you.”
His expression turned to stone.
“No,” he whispered. “No, he wouldn’t— he can’t—”
“Elias—what does that mean?” Rowan cried.
He closed his eyes.
A tremor of fear — real fear — shook through the bond.
“Kael is trying to call me,” Elias said quietly. “The way he used to.”
Rowan’s blood ran cold.
“He wants to pull me away from you,” Elias said. “He’s trying to reactivate the old tether.”
“Can he?” Rowan asked, voice barely air.
“No.”
He opened his eyes.
But the fear didn’t fade.
“Not unless—unless I answer him.”
“Then don’t!”
“I won’t,” Elias snapped. “But Rowan—if he pulls hard enough—if he forces the old bond—”
He grabbed her shoulders, eyes blazing.
“—it could drag our bond with it.”
Rowan’s heart nearly stopped.
“You mean—”
“Yes.”
“If Kael pulls me...”
His voice wavered.
“...he might take you with me.”
Silence fell like a falling blade.
Rowan swallowed hard. “What do we do?”
Elias took a slow, trembling breath.
“We strengthen our bond,” he said.
“Now. Before he tears at it again.”
Rowan’s pulse raced. “How?”
Elias’s shadows rose around him — not threatening, but somber. Serious. Heavy with the weight of what he was about to ask.
“By letting me in farther,” he murmured.
Farther than before.
Past the fear.
Past the pain.
Past the walls she’d built out of survival.
Rowan felt her heart lurch.
“Elias—”
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Rowan, if I go dark again... you’re the only thing that can pull me back.”
The bond pulsed — warm, bright, terrified.
Rowan stepped closer.
“I’ll do it,” she whispered.
Elias sucked in a sharp breath.
“You’re sure.”
“Yes.”
He exhaled like he’d been holding that air for hours.
“Then come here,” he said softly.
“We don’t have time to hesitate.”
Rowan reached for him.
And the sanctuary dimmed around them — not in warning, but in solemn recognition.
Because what they were about to do...
wasn’t training.
Wasn’t practice.
Wasn’t safe.
It was binding.
For real.
For survival.
And for something more neither of them dared name yet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The sanctuary dimmed as if it understood what Rowan and Elias were about to do.
Not warning.
Witnessing.
Rowan stood in the center of the stone circle, breath trembling, heart pounding so loud she was sure Elias could hear it through the bond.
Elias didn’t speak at first.
He just watched her — shadows dimmed, expression solemn in a way that made her chest ache.
“Rowan,” he said finally, voice low, “this is the part where you can still step back.”
