The battle inside Ember Hall left the air thick with ash and silence. Elena's wrist still burned faintly where the fire oath pulsed, and every step echoed with a strange weight as though the ground itself remembered what had just unfolded.
Damian's wound had closed, but the faint scar stretched across his arm was a mirror of the one carved into hers. She couldn't stop staring at it. Every time her gaze drifted to that mark, her stomach tightened with a mix of anger and something far more dangerous: connection.
She broke the silence first. "If we stay here, they'll find us again."
Damian didn't argue. He strapped a blade to his side, the metal faintly glowing from where his fire had licked across it. "They already know where you are. Ember Hall isn't a fortress anymore but a tomb waiting to collapse."
The word tomb pressed against Elena's chest. She glanced at the scorched stone walls, their blackened edges trembling with shadow's memory. She hated how much truth lived in his words.
"Then where?" she demanded. "If they follow me everywhere, what place is safer than this?"
Damian lifted his gaze toward the broken window, where pale dawn filtered through like a blade of silver. His jaw clenched. "The Forest of Veils. It's old, older than any oath, older than any kingdom. Its roots twist deep enough to confuse shadow. If we can make it there, we'll buy time."
"Time for what?" Elena pressed, though dread already coiled in her stomach.
He didn't answer. That silence was worse than lies.
The forest lay east, a jagged line of black trees visible even from Ember Hall's crumbling height. As they left, the wind carried a strange chill, different from the storm. It smelled of earth and secrets, of whispers buried beneath bark.
Elena wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders as they descended the hill. The ground was slick with rain, and every step felt like walking deeper into something that wanted them swallowed whole.
Damian walked ahead, his stride steady, but his hand never strayed far from his blade. The fire at his wrist glowed faintly, his veins alive with it. Watching him was like watching a storm contained inside skin, dangerous, mesmerizing.
"You've been here before," Elena said, breaking the silence.
He didn't look back. "Once. Long ago."
"And you survived."
His voice was flat. "Barely."
The weight of that single word settled over her. She didn't ask again.
By the time they reached the forest's edge, the sun had barely broken past the horizon. The trees loomed like dark spires, their branches heavy with mist that curled low to the ground. The moment Elena stepped into the shade, her shadows stirred wildly, restless as caged animals.
She staggered, clutching her wrist. "They don't like it here."
Damian's hand caught her shoulder, steadying her. His fire bled through his skin into hers, calming the tremor. "No. They fear it. Which means we're in the right place."
The forest swallowed them whole. No birds sang. No wind touched the leaves. It was as though the world itself held its breath.
Elena's skin prickled. She could swear the trees leaned closer, their bark etched with faint markings that twisted like runes. She reached out once, brushing her fingers against the rough surface. It pulsed faintly under her touch. Alive.
She pulled back quickly, heart racing. "The forest is watching us."
Damian didn't deny it. "It always watches. It decides who leaves."
Elena stopped dead in her tracks. "You mean it chooses?"
His silence was confirmation enough.
Hours blurred as they wove deeper. The mist thickened, coiling around their legs. Elena's thoughts grew heavy, thick, as though the forest was pressing into her mind. At one point she swore she heard her mother's voice calling her name, soft, coaxing.
She turned sharply, shadows curling at her feet. "Did you hear that?"
Damian's eyes burned brighter. "Don't listen. The forest feeds on memory. It twists what you want most into a snare."
Her throat tightened. "How do you know that?"
"Because it once made me believe I could save someone I lost," he said, voice edged with rawness she had never heard from him before. "And when I reached for them, the shadows nearly swallowed me whole."
The confession sank into her like a stone in water. She wanted to ask who he had lost, but the pain in his voice warned her that question would be a wound too deep to touch.
Instead, she whispered, "And yet you came back."
His gaze flicked to hers, fire dimmed by something vulnerable. "Because this time, I'm not alone."
Her chest clenched at the words. She turned away quickly, afraid he would see the flicker of warmth that shouldn't have been there.
By nightfall, they found shelter in a hollowed tree, its interior vast enough to house them both. Damian struck a flame against the damp air, and fire bloomed in his palm, casting gold across the bark. Elena sank against the wall, her body trembling with exhaustion.
"Rest," he said. "The forest will test us more tomorrow."
She wanted to argue, but her eyelids were heavy. The warmth of his fire lulled her, her shadows curling close like wary animals. Sleep took her quickly.
But dreams in the Forest of Veils were not kind.
She dreamed of chains binding her wrists, dragging her deeper into endless darkness. Shadows whispered in her ears, promises of power, of belonging. And above it all, fire flared Damian's fire, but even it faltered, dimming, smothered. She reached for him, but he was already sinking, his eyes locked on hers as though asking if she would let him fall.
She woke with a gasp, her skin damp, her breath ragged. Damian was awake, his firelight faint, his gaze fixed on her.
"What did you see?" he asked.
Elena's lips trembled, but she shook her head. "Only what I'm afraid of."
Damian didn't press further. Instead, his eyes softened, though the fire in them never faded. "Then hold onto that. Fear keeps us alive. But don't let it rule you."
She drew her knees to her chest, curling into herself. The fire oath pulsed faintly at her wrist, reminding her that no matter how much she wanted to shut him out, their fates were already chained.
Outside, the forest whispered. Inside, Elena stared into the fire and realized a terrifying truth:
It wasn't the shadows that frightened her most anymore.
It was the thought of losing the man who burned beside her.