Elira didn't return to her room that night.
She didn't want to sleep in a bed that smelled like heat and spice and everything he was. She didn't want to lie in silence, feeling the hum of the bond like a heartbeat that wasn't hers. So she stayed in the ruined hall, surrounded by fading runes and broken stone, her fingers still warm with magic.
When morning if the ever-burning sky in this cursed realm even counted as morning finally came, Elira was already awake.
Exhausted, yes.
But her mind was steady, her focus sharper than it had been in days.
She needed control something that felt like hers, something steady. And Ravion? He was chaos in a crown, a constant reminder of how much she'd lost... and how little she still owned of herself."
She returned to the main corridor in silence. Halls pulsed with old magic, the stone itself humming like it remembered every secret ever whispered within its walls. This wasn't just a ruin it was a relic from a time before rules, before gods and right now, it felt alive. Waiting.
He was waiting for her at the archway that led to the lower halls, arms crossed, jaw set.
Of course.
"You slept out there," he said.
She walked right past him. "You're not my warden."
"I'm not blind either you look like you haven't rested."
"I didn't come here to rest."
"No," he said coldly. "You came here to bleed, summon me, bind me and then treat me like I'm the problem."
She froze.
Turned.
"I don't need you to make this harder."
"Good," he said. "Because I'm not here to make you feel better you think you're the only one who's angry? You tore open a gate that should've stayed shut."
"And you stepped through it," she snapped. "So don't pretend this was one-sided."
He stepped closer, voice low. "I didn't choose the bond, Elira."
"Neither did I!"
The silence split wide between them. He looked at her like words were clawing their way up his throat something unsaid, something heavy but he swallowed them back.
She pushed past him again.
The halls narrowed, leading toward a locked chamber she hadn't noticed before. The air shifted as she approached thicker, older.
Ravion moved fast, appearing beside her with a flicker of flame. "Not this door."
"Why?" she asked.
"It's sealed for a reason."
"So unseal it."
"No."
She narrowed her eyes. "Afraid I'll find something you don't want me to see?"
"I'm afraid of what's behind it waking up."
They stood there, inches apart, fire curling in the air around them, neither backing down.
"You still don't trust me," she said.
He laughed once, hollow. "You think trust is earned in ten days and a blood pact?"
"I think if you want me to believe you're not the enemy, maybe stop acting like one."
"Then stop acting like i'm just another mistake you're desperate to forgot.''
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Because maybe… he wasn't wrong.
She had tried to run from him, from the bond, from whatever was growing between them.
Elira's shoulders dropped as she let out a shaky breath.
She exhaled slowly. "I didn't ask for you."
"I know."
They stared at each other and for a moment, she wasn't sure if they were about to fight again or-
"I'm opening it," she said, voice steady but cold, as her fingers hovered near the lock.
Ravion moved instantly, his expression tightening. "Elira, don't—"
But it was already too late.
The mark on her palm flared to life, brighter and hotter than before. Magic surged from her skin in a pulse of red and gold, like fire fed by blood. It struck the ancient seal embedded in the door an old, snarling rune burning through it like it had been waiting centuries for her touch.
The air went still.
Then the runes cracked.
A deep groan echoed through the hall as the stone shuddered. Threads of magic snapped one by one, invisible but deafening, like the world holding its breath and exhaling all at once.
A final shiver ran through the door.
Then—
Click.
The seal broke.
And the chamber began to open, slow and heavy, as if reluctant to give up whatever it had hidden for so long.
A breath of cold air rushed out. Older than the temple. Older than Ravion.
Elira stepped inside slowly.
The room was circular, lined with black stone and symbols that pulsed red under her presence. At the center stood a basin of obsidian, filled with something that shimmered like liquid shadow.
She stepped closer.
"What is this?" she asked, almost to herself.
Ravion's voice came from the doorway, tense. "It's a mirror. But not for your reflection."
Her fingers hovered above the surface.
"Don't touch it."
She looked back. "Why not?"
"Because it doesn't show you what you are. It shows what you've buried."
She stared at him. "You've used it before."
His silence said yes.
Elira turned back to the basin, her breath shallow. Her fingertips skimmed the edge. The surface rippled once, twice and then stilled.
Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.
Flashes.
A child eyes burning red.
Blood spilled across a ritual circle.
A woman's scream tore through the air, raw and desperate.
Flames. Smoke. Chaos.
A name echoed in the dark not hers, and yet it clung to her like skin.
Elira jerked back, breath trapped in her throat.
Her knees gave out.
Ravion moved fast, catching her before she hit the stone.
She shoved him off immediately. "Don't."
"Elira—"
"No."
She backed away from the mirror, shaking. "That wasn't memory, that was something else."
"It was you," he said quietly.
"I'm not-" She stopped herself. "That's not who I am anymore."
"It's who you were," he said. "And magic like this it remembers everything."
She pressed a hand to her chest, breath uneven. "Why didn't you warn me?"
"Because nothing I said would've stopped you."
She looked at him then, really looked.
For the first time… he wasn't angry.
He looked tired.
Like whatever weight she'd started to carry, he'd been carrying longer.
She hated that it almost made her feel sorry for him.
"I don't need you to protect me," she said.
"I know," he said. "But I will anyway."
She didn't answer. Couldn't.
So she walked out of the chamber in silence.
And Ravion, for once, didn't follow.