The scream hadn't fully left Aria's throat before Rowan was already shoving her behind him, his stance low, hand wrapped around the dagger he never seemed to unarm himself of. Caelum cursed under his breath, shifting slightly, body angled to protect her from the movement in the trees.
But nothing came out of the dark.
The silence that followed was worse.
Serin was the first to speak. "It's the shadows," she whispered, her voice tight. "They're testing the ward."
Rowan shot her a sharp look, but he didn't deny it. His jaw flexed once, the lines around his eyes deepening. "Get inside. Both of you." His voice was stern, but underneath it Aria heard something else, a tremor he was trying very hard to bury.
Aria's heart thudded painfully, and for a moment it felt like the forest was breathing alongside her, exhaling cold air against her neck. Caelum positioned himself between her and the trees, guiding her back toward the house, but Aria felt a tug, like something invisible pulling her attention to the far side of the property.
Near the stream.
As if something stood there, waiting.
She shook it off with effort. Whatever it was, she wasn't ready to know.
Inside, the cottage felt unnervingly tight, like the walls themselves were listening. Rowan tossed a bag onto the table, spilling herbs, small vials, and two stones carved with ancient symbols.
"I thought the wards would hold longer," Serin muttered, pacing.
"They will," Rowan answered, though his tone sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "They just… I don't like her."
Aria stiffened. "Excuse me?"
Rowan hesitated for the first time since they met. "The shadows recognize power. They're drawn to it. They want it."
Caelum's hand instantly closed around Aria's wrist. "She's not theirs."
"Tell them that," Rowan muttered.
Serin stopped pacing, crossing her arms as she studied Aria with an expression that wasn't pity, but something sharper. "You're dreaming about him, aren't you?"
Aria froze.
Caelum turned to her slowly, dread creeping into his expression. "Aria…?"
She swallowed hard. She didn't want to admit it, but lying wouldn't stop whatever was happening.
"Every night," she whispered. "He bends the dream around me. Makes me… forget what's real."
Rowan let out a low curse. "Then we don't have much time."
Serin stepped closer, her voice lowering. "What does he show you? Be honest. It matters."
Aria didn't want to drag the images back, but they came anyway, unbidden, unwanted.
"I see places that don't exist. I hear voices that sound like my own thoughts. He twists memories. Sometimes… he shows me Caelum dying. Sometimes Kael." Her breath shook. "Sometimes he shows me myself standing beside him."
Caelum's hand tightened so hard around her wrist she felt his pulse. "He can't have you."
Rowan turned to rummage through his shelves. "If Malachi is worsening the nightmares, he's preparing something. Dream manipulation is only step one."
"Step one of what?" Aria whispered.
"Claiming," Rowan replied without looking back. "Once he roots himself deep enough in your subconscious, he'll try to anchor a tether. Something permanent."
Aria went cold. Caelum let go of her as if afraid he'd crush her bones otherwise.
"He won't get that far," Caelum said, voice low with lethal promise.
Rowan set down a bowl and began mixing herbs. "He already has. Shadows don't track people for fun. They track vessels."
Aria felt her knees weaken. "I'm not a vessel."
"You will be," Rowan answered quietly, "if we don't break what he's building."
Caelum moved to her side instantly, but Aria couldn't breathe. A vessel. A tether. Malachi wanted her power, her mind.
And she felt so tired… so worn… so close to slipping every night.
Serin stepped forward. "Rowan, tell her the truth."
Rowan glared at her but didn't stop her.
Serin's voice softened in a way Aria hadn't heard before. "You're stronger than whatever he thinks he sees in you. He targets the ones he's afraid of."
Aria swallowed. "You mean me."
"I mean you," Serin confirmed. "And you're not alone. I'll help. Even if Caelum decides to be a jerk about it."
Caelum rolled his eyes. "You're the one who hates me."
"I don't hate you," Serin said flatly. "I just prefer people who don't leave others to die."
Caelum stiffened. "I didn't leave"
"Save it. This isn't about us." Serin turned to Aria again. "You're safe here. At least until Rowan finishes the counter-ward."
Rowan scoffed. "If the shadows give us time."
Aria rubbed her eyes, exhaustion dragging at her. "Can I… rest? Just for a moment?"
Rowan studied her with that cold, evaluating stare of his. "Not alone."
Caelum stepped forward. "I'll"
"No," Rowan cut in sharply. "She needs someone who isn't emotionally entangled with her. The tether forms easier through strong bonds."
Caelum froze, color draining from his face.
Serin sighed. "I'll stay with her."
Aria opened her mouth to protest when Rowan added, "Stay awake if you can. But if you can't, Serin will know if the nightmare tries to take shape."
Caelum wanted to argue. His eyes said everything: fear, frustration, helplessness. But Rowan wasn't wrong.
Aria followed Serin to the small room Rowan had prepared earlier. The healer lit a candle that gave off a warm, soothing scent. "This will help you stay grounded," she said. "If anything shifts, I'll wake you."
Aria lay down only because her body felt like it had been wrung out. Serin sat beside her, legs crossed, hands resting on her knees.
The candlelight flickered.
Aria exhaled.
She drifted.
She didn't mean to, but she drifted.
And the moment she slipped under, she knew it wasn't sleep.
The air around her was too still, too cold. A place made of shadows, stretched wide like a hollow. A shape stood before her, tall, familiar, terrifying in the way nightmares always are once they stop pretending to be dreams.
Malachi.
He smiled as if he'd been waiting.
"Finally," he murmured. "I was wondering when you'd stop running."
Her heart slammed against her ribs. "Get out of my head."
He stepped closer, shadows curling behind him like serpents responding to a master's voice. "I didn't invite myself, Aria. You let me in."
"I didn't."
"You did," he repeated, his tone soft but undeniable. "Because part of you knows what you are. And what you're becoming."
"No." Her voice cracked. "You don't own me."
Malachi's eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "You're right. Not yet."
He lifted a hand, and the world around her tightened, like someone pulling a cord through her spine.
"Stop!" Aria gasped.
"Oh, I can't," he whispered. "This is only the beginning."
A sudden force yanked her backward, like the dream itself was tearing. Malachi's expression snapped into irritation.
Then fury.
"You have no idea what you're awakening," he hissed. "And when you break… you'll crawl to me."
The dream shattered like glass.
Aria jolted awake, a scream tearing from her throat.
But the scream wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was Serin's face, her eyes wide, her body frozen, her breath trembling as she pointed toward Aria's chest.
"Aria," Serin whispered, voice thin with fear. "You're glowing."
Aria looked down.
Her skin pulsed with a faint, unmistakable golden light and shadowy marks rippled beneath it like something was trying to claw its way out.
Serin stumbled back. "Rowan! Caelum!"
But before anyone reached the room, the golden glow cracked and Aria's entire body convulsed as a violent surge of power exploded outward, blowing the door clean off its hinges.
Everything went black.
And a voice, not Malachi's, but older, deeper whispered her name.
"Aria… wake up."