[Unedited! Don’t buy!]
The whispers vanished entirely.
The water slowly descended back toward the fountain below, calm once more.
Silence followed.
Only then did Iris seem to realize how close we were standing.
Her hand was still gripping the front of my coat.
My arm remained around her waist.
For one suspended mont, neither of us moved.
The night air felt strangely warm despite the cold.
"You trusted ," she whispered softly.
The words caught off guard.
"I had little choice."
"That’s not true."
Her voice had grown quieter now. More vulnerable.
"You could’ve stopped ."
Yes.
I could have.
I could have suppressed the arcane entirely. Forced the water back through sheer power before it fully answered her call.
But I had not.
Because sowhere in that chaos—
I wanted to see what she would beco.
A dangerous thought.
One I should have crushed imdiately.
Instead, my gaze drifted briefly to her lips before I looked away.
"That power nearly destroyed the balcony," I said coldly, stepping back at last. "Do not mistake necessity for trust."
The warmth faded from her expression instantly.
Good.
It was safer that way.
Yet even as I turned toward the shadows beyond the corridor, the mory of her standing amidst silver water beneath the moon lingered in my mind like a curse already taking root.
And deep beneath the earth—
Far below the rivers and forgotten ruins—
Sothing ancient stirred awake.
The disturbance did not remain hidden for long.
By morning, the shattered balcony had already beco the center of whispered speculation throughout the estate. Servants avoided looking directly at the damage, though their eyes lingered on the cracked marble and fractured pillars whenever they believed no one was watching.
Rumors moved quickly in places ruled by immortals.
Too quickly.
I stood in the training hall beneath the eastern wing, listening to the steady rhythm of steel striking steel sowhere in the distance. The chamber was vast and cold, lined with ancient weapons untouched by rust or ti. Shadows stretched long across the stone floor as dawn filtered weakly through the high windows.
Sebastian approached carefully.
"The repairs have begun," he inford quietly.
"And the servants?"
"They suspect an attack."
I gave a faint nod. "Let them."
Fear was easier to manage than curiosity.
Sebastian hesitated before speaking again. "Lady Iris has not left her chamber."
That drew my attention.
"Why?"
"She appears... unsettled."
Of course she was.
Last night had changed sothing.
Not rely because she had manipulated the water consciously for the first ti, but because the arcane had responded to her emotions so violently. Power tied directly to feeling was notoriously unstable. The stronger the emotion, the stronger the manifestation.
And Iris felt deeply.
That alone made her dangerous.
"I will speak with her," I said at last.
Sebastian inclined his head but did not leave imdiately.
"My Lord," he began carefully, "forgive my boldness, but this path grows increasingly perilous."
I looked at him coldly. "You believe I do not know that?"
"No," he answered honestly. "I believe you know it too well."
Silence settled between us.
Sebastian had served the Nightborne bloodline long before I was born into it. He understood better than most—perhaps better than I wished.
"That girl," he continued quietly, "is becoming important to you."
The words sharpened the air itself.
"She is useful," I corrected.
Sebastian said nothing.
Which irritated more than disagreent would have.
Finally, he bowed slightly. "As you wish, my Lord."
And then he departed, leaving only silence behind.
Useful.
That was all she was ant to be.
So why did the thought suddenly feel hollow?
Iris sat near the fireplace in her chamber, staring absently at the steaming cup of tea untouched in her hands.
The events of last night replayed endlessly in her mind.
The whispers.
The water.
The way it had obeyed her.
No—not obeyed.
It had understood her.
That realization unsettled her more than the destruction itself.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
She looked up just as the door opened.
Vladimir entered without waiting for permission.
Naturally.
"You look terrible," he remarked calmly.
Iris frowned imdiately. "Good morning to you too."
"You did not sleep."
Neither had he.
She could tell from the faint shadows beneath his eyes, though his posture remained perfectly composed as always.
"I kept hearing it," she admitted quietly.
His gaze sharpened slightly. "The whisper?"
She nodded.
"It’s gone now," she added quickly, as though reassuring herself more than him. "But I still rember it."
I moved closer to the fireplace, watching the flas shift behind the iron grate.
"Describe it."
Her brows furrowed. "I couldn’t understand the words."
"That is not what I asked."
Iris hesitated.
"It sounded..." She struggled for the right answer. "Lonely."
The word settled heavily in the room.
Lonely.
Not violent.
Not cruel.
Lonely.
That troubled far more.
Ancient entities rarely reached toward mortals without purpose. And things born from the deep arcane did not experience loneliness the way humans did.
Unless they rembered once being sothing else.
I pushed the thought aside imdiately.
"No matter what it says," I told her firmly, "you are not to answer it."
Her grip tightened slightly around the cup. "What if it’s trying to help?"
"It is not."
"You don’t know that."
"I know enough."
The sharpness in my voice silenced the room.
Iris looked down at the tea again, her expression tightening.
"You always do that," she murmured.
"Do what?"
"Talk like you already know everything."
I stared at her evenly. "Experience tends to provide advantages."
"And arrogance tends to make people insufferable."
A dangerous response.
Yet despite myself, I almost smiled.
Almost.
"You are becoming bold."
"Maybe I’m tired of being treated like I’ll break."
The words struck deeper than she realized.
Because that was precisely the problem.
She would break.
Not physically.
Sothing worse.
This world consud fragile things without rcy. And Iris—despite the power awakening inside her—still possessed too much softness.
Too much heart.
"You think strength ans fearlessness," I said quietly. "It does not."
"Then what does it an?"
I looked toward the fire.
"Enduring even after fear finds you."
For a mont, neither of us spoke.
Then Iris set the untouched tea aside and rose slowly from her chair.
"You endured," she said softly.
Not a question.
An observation.
My expression hardened instinctively.
"Yes."
Reviews
All reviews (0)