*Aiden's POV*
The road stretched endlessly ahead of us, golden afternoon sunlight spilling across the highway and painting the hills on either side in warm shades of amber and green. Every now and then we passed a sleepy little town or a lonely farmhouse, but for the most part it was just us, the car, and the miles disappearing beneath the tires.
The silence inside the car wasn't awkward. It was comfortable.
Kael sat beside me with one elbow resting against the window, watching the scenery pass by. Every so often our hands would brush against each other on the center console, and neither of us bothered pretending it was an accident anymore. Sometimes he simply reached over and took my hand. Sometimes I did. Arith, stretched comfortably across the back seat, had watched us do it enough times that she no longer commented — though every now and then I'd catch her smiling to herself through the rearview mirror.
"You know," she said lazily, "for someone who once insisted humans were overly sentimental..."
Kael didn't even look back. "I have learned that I was occasionally wrong."
I laughed. "Occasionally?"
He finally glanced at me. "I refuse to admit to more than that."
"That's the most growth I've ever heard from you."
"Yeah, right. I should receive praise."
"You'll survive without it."
"I highly doubt that."
Arith snorted behind us. "The mighty prince has become insufferable."
"I have always been insufferable."
"Fair."
We all laughed, and for a little while, things almost felt normal.
The farther we drove, though, the quieter Kael became. At first I thought he was simply tired — he'd been through a lot over the last two days, and anyone would be exhausted. But then I noticed his right hand had drifted unconsciously toward his chest, not pressing against it, just hovering there, like he was resisting the urge. His jaw tightened every few minutes, a muscle jumping beneath his cheek. Once, I caught him taking an unusually slow breath before forcing himself to relax.
"You okay?" I asked.
He looked over immediately. "I'm perfect."
"You sure?"
"I am."
It was a convincing smile. Almost. If I hadn't spent so much time around him recently, I might have believed it. Instead I noticed how pale he looked, how his fingers trembled for only a second before going still again. I didn't push. If Kael wanted to tell me something, he would — at least, that's what I kept telling myself.
By the time the sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon, the roads had grown busier. Bright signs advertising burgers, fried chicken, and coffee started appearing every few kilometers, and my stomach growled loudly enough that Arith laughed.
"I believe your human is running out of fuel."
"I'm right here."
"I know," she said sweetly. "It makes teasing you much more fun."
Kael glanced over. "We should stop and grab something."
I thought about it. "...Yeah, we should. But not now."
His eyebrows rose. "It is nearly evening."
"I know that. Let's just go a bit further."
"That is just an excuse."
"A very good excuse."
"No, it's not."
Arith leaned forward between our seats and pointed toward a brightly lit drive-through. "There. We should stop." I didn't argue.
Five minutes later we were back on the road, paper bags filling the car with the smell of fries and grilled meat. Kael picked curiously at his burger before taking a careful bite, expression completely neutral.
"So?" I asked.
He chewed thoughtfully. "...I understand why humans become attached to these establishments."
I grinned. "You like it."
"I did not say that."
"You didn't have to."
"I simply understand the appeal."
Arith laughed. "He likes it."
"I heard that."
"I intended for you to."
Darkness settled fully over the highway, and the closer we came to our destination, the more restless Kael became. His fingers curled against his jeans. His breathing slowed. Once, very briefly, I caught a flash of black beneath the collar of his shirt — gone before I could be sure I'd actually seen it. My stomach tightened.
"We'll need fuel soon," I said, checking the dashboard.
"There should be a station ahead," Arith replied, and sure enough, a brightly lit gas station appeared around the next bend. I pulled in. The place was almost deserted — one old pickup truck sat beside a pump while an elderly man slowly filled it, and a teenage cashier leaned against the counter inside, clearly wishing his shift would end.
"I'll pay," I said.
"I'll come with you." Kael was already opening his door. The moment his feet touched the ground, he paused — just for a second, shoulders stiffening — then, without another word, headed quickly toward the building.
I frowned. "Bathroom," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be back."
Something about the way he said it didn't sit right with me. I paid for the fuel as quickly as I could, and when I came back outside, Arith was watching the convenience store with narrowed eyes.
"You noticed too." It wasn't a question.
"He looks... off."
She nodded. "The curse is growing stronger."
"What?"
She sighed softly. "The closer we come to the core, the stronger the connection becomes."
"So why didn't he say anything?"
"Because he's Kael."
That, unfortunately, made perfect sense.
"I'm checking on him." Before Arith could stop me, I hurried inside. The cashier looked up lazily.
"The restroom?"
He pointed toward the back. "Last door."
I knocked once. "Kael?" No answer. I pushed the door open.
He was sitting cross-legged on the tiled floor, eyes closed, golden mana surrounding him in a faint shimmering glow while dark wisps curled around his chest like living smoke. His breathing was slow, controlled. Every few seconds, another strand of darkness dissolved beneath the golden light, and another took its place.
He opened his eyes. "...You were not supposed to see this."
I crouched beside him. "You're in pain."
"I've experienced worse."
"Kael."
"It's manageable."
"You don't have to keep pretending you're fine."
A tired smile crossed his face. "I'm not pretending." He looked down at the black wisps fading beneath his hands. "I'm simply refusing to let it win."
I reached for his hand, and his fingers immediately intertwined with mine.
"We'll get your core."
"I know."
"And we'll stop whoever's doing this."
His smile became genuine. "I know."
"Then stop trying to carry everything by yourself."
For a long moment he simply looked at me. Then he nodded once. "I'll try."
It wasn't a promise. But it was enough.
Outside, the first stars appeared above the highway. Our destination was close — closer than ever. So was the darkness following us.