Dion's POV
The ash was still warm beneath his fingers, though the night air had begun to chill around the charred remains of what used to be his sanctuary. The cabin, his refuge from the chaos of the world, lay broken, splintered, and twisted like his heart.
Dion sank to the ground, the rough stone biting through his thin boots. His breath came uneven, a mixture of anger, grief, and raw exhaustion. He didn't know how long he had been there, slumped over the wreckage, letting the silence press in on him, heavy and suffocating.
He had been forced to watch.
To watch her.
Therrin.
With Ciaran.
Their closeness, the way their hands brushed, the quiet moments exchanged between them like a language only they understood—it had torn through Dion's soul like a blade, sharp and cruel. And all he could do was feel. Powerless. Trapped in his own body, a prisoner to his own helplessness.
He clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palms, tasting the metallic sting of blood. I should have stopped it. I should have done something.
But he couldn't.
The shadows had held him tight, locked his mind in a cage while Therrin was pulled away from him, away from everything they had built.
A ragged breath escaped him as he finally closed his eyes and reached out—mentally, invisibly—to the twin presence that dwelled with her, that shared their bond.
Ari, he whispered.
The mental thread between them hummed softly in the dark.
I need to talk. I need you to hear everything, because if I don't say it—if I keep it locked inside—it will tear me apart.
The voice that replied was calm, but weighted with concern.
I'm here. I'm listening.
Dion swallowed the lump in his throat, the weight of what he'd witnessed crashing down like a storm.
I saw them. Therrin and Ciaran. I was forced to watch, Ari. Not just as an observer—but as someone stripped of every ounce of control. Every moment they shared, every look that passed between them, burned into me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear the shadows apart, to reach through whatever chains bound me and pull her back. But I was nothing. A ghost.
His mind swirled, images flashing unbidden—the softness of Ciaran's hand on Therrin's arm, the quiet smile, the way her eyes lingered on him longer than she should have.
It was like losing her all over again. But worse, because I was right there and couldn't stop it.
Ari's voice was steady, soothing.
Dion, I feel it too—the sting of each moment, the ache of that helplessness. But we cannot let the darkness win. Not yet.
He shook his head, bitter.
How can I not be broken? How do I hold steady when the one I love… I don't even know if she's still mine? And you… you share her. Sometimes I feel like I'm losing both of you.
The mental silence stretched between them, filled with raw pain and the fragile threads of their shared connection.
You are not alone, Dion. Therrin is torn as much as you are. And I— Ari hesitated, I want to help. But I need you. We need each other.
He pressed his hand to his chest, feeling the pulse beneath his palm—steady, insistent.
I don't know if I'm strong enough.
The words trembled in the space between them.
Then we grow stronger together.
The cabin door creaked open before the shadows fully embraced the night. Grimm stepped through, the weight of his presence grounding and urgent.
"I felt it," Grimm said quietly, eyes flicking to Dion. "The shift in your soul, the storm you carry. This… destruction, this pain—it's only the beginning."
Dion looked up, hope and despair warring inside him.
"I'm ready. Tell me what comes next."
Grimm nodded, the faintest flicker of a grim smile touching his lips.
"We fight. But first, we understand. And you… you must heal."
The night held its breath, as if waiting for the battle to begin.
Grimm's eyes scanned the ruined cabin, taking in the splintered beams and overturned furniture with a slow, steady gaze. His voice softened but carried unmistakable weight.
"You've unleashed your pain here, Dion. But destruction will not bring her back—not like this."
Dion looked up, his throat tight, muscles aching. "What else can I do? I was powerless—forced to watch her with him. I thought breaking everything would break this nightmare."
Grimm knelt beside him, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Pain must be acknowledged, not just burned away. You need to heal, or you risk losing yourself completely."
Dion's voice dropped to a whisper. "How? When all I feel is this void inside?"
Grimm's eyes glimmered with something ancient and fierce. "Because healing is not weakness. It is the beginning of your fight. And that fight has just begun."
He stood and reached into the folds of his cloak, pulling out a small leather pouch tied with silver thread.
"Inside is a balm — a mixture of herbs and magic designed to ease both body and soul. It will not fix everything, but it can ease the worst of the shadows wrapped around you."
Dion accepted the pouch, fingers trembling slightly. He felt a flicker of hope — fragile, but there.
"Good. Now come. There's something you must see."
Without waiting for a reply, Grimm moved toward the back of the cabin, stepping through a narrow doorway that led down a spiral of stone steps.
Dion hesitated, then followed, heart pounding.
The steps opened into a small underground chamber lit by a faint, ethereal glow. The air smelled of earth and ancient magic. In the center of the room was a circular stone altar inscribed with glowing runes that pulsed softly.
Grimm gestured to the altar. "This place has been hidden for centuries. It is a sanctuary for those touched by the twin souls—where healing and revelation can occur beyond the reach of darkness."
Dion's eyes swept over the runes, feeling a strange pull as if they whispered secrets only he could hear.
"Sit," Grimm instructed. "Place your hands on the altar."
Dion obeyed, the cold stone sending a shock of energy through him.
"Now breathe deeply. Let your mind open to the connection between you, Ari, and Therrin. The bond is strained, but not broken. Here, it can be mended — if you are willing."
Dion closed his eyes, the room fading around him as he focused inward.
Visions stirred behind his eyelids: fragmented memories of Therrin's smile, Ari's gentle voice, shadows twisting and writhing like living things.
Suddenly, a sharp pulse jolted him back to the chamber.
Grimm's voice was urgent. "There is a danger you do not yet understand. The shadow creatures that haunt the edges of your bond are growing stronger. They seek to sever you."
Dion's heart pounded. "Then we fight."
Dion clenched his fists, the weight of his vow settling deep inside.
He wasn't finished—not by a long shot.