Page 101 of Ashen Souls

A single, flawless glide. I looked down as hot blood soaked through the silk of my dress, turning it black. My legs folded, and I hit the forest floor hard.

Daeren was the only anchor holding my vision together. He strained against the invisible chains, desperate to reach my side.

His mouth moved, shaping a name—mine, or hers—but the sound was swallowed by a deafening noise.

Behind him, the night fractured.

The dark woods and the black lake collapsed inward as reality gave way to a lightless, crushing abyss. The man in white stepped forward, planting a hand flat against Daeren's chest, forcing him toward the precipice of the tear.

He was trying to fight. His feet gouged into the soft soil, splintering thick roots under the force of his resistance. But the weight of the magic, combined with the brutal drag of the void, was too much.

His eyes locked onto mine right at the edge. The fight drained from his face, leaving only the terrifying realization that he couldn't reach me.

A final shove sent him falling backward into the dark.

The tear snapped shut, engulfing him without a sound.

The sigil on my wrist went dead. The sudden emptiness in my chest was a wound far worse than the steel that had pierced my ribs.

Pressed against the freezing earth, my breaths turning shallow, my focus narrowed to the ring on my finger.

I will always find you, Avelia.

The letters blurred. The edges of the world began to dissolve as the blood pooled beneath me.

But just as her consciousness slipped away, a phantom pulse shuddered through the lifeless tether. An echo of his vow.

He would find her. He would never stop looking.

The memory let go, throwing me back to the waking world.

This was no echo. It was an interrupted sentence. A thousand-year-old act of violence still demanding its conclusion.

27

The creak of floorboards. The hum of distant traffic. Harper’s sharp gasp beside my ear.

The steel in my chest vanished, leaving only the cool air of the antique shop and the harsh sound of my own breathing. My knees were pressed hard against the floorboards. My fingers were locked in a death grip around the ring.

Harper knelt beside me, both hands clutching my arm. “Aveline. Hey. Talk to me.”

A few steps away, the shop owner hovered awkwardly, his gaze darting between my pale face and the ring in my hand.

I swallowed. My throat was raw, scraped by screams that had never actually left my mouth.

“I’m fine.” The words rasped out. “Just… dizzy.”

Harper didn't let go. “You went completely rigid. I thought you were having a seizure.”

“I’m okay.” I braced my free hand against the glass display case and pushed myself to my feet. I leaned in, lowering my voice so only she could hear. “I’ll tell you later.”

I turned back to the counter and opened my hand. The ring rested in my palm, perfectly cold and ordinary once again.

“How much?” I asked.

The owner cleared his throat, visibly relieved to be on familiar territory. “Three hundred. Given its condition and the lack of documented provenance.”

“I’ll take it.”