The chamber hums with cold, pulsing magic, like the walls themselves breathe under Freyr's influence. The silence stretches between us, brittle and sharp, as if the air is holding its breath, waiting for me to speak.
But I won't.
Not first.
Justin stands just behind me, close enough that I feel the weight of him, the way he vibrates with tension he refuses to show. His silence is different from mine—calculated, watchful. He doesn't trust Freyr. He doesn't trust this room.
Maybe…..he doesn't trust me.
Freyr watches us from his throne of shadowed marble, the silver veins running through it glowing faintly beneath his fingers. His presence fills the space, coiled and patient, like a predator that already has the kill cornered.
He doesn't need to speak first.
He knows I'll break before he does.
And I do.
"What do you want from me?" My voice comes out steadier than I expect, but I feel the crack beneath it.
Justin shifts slightly, almost as if to step forward, but Freyr's gaze flicks to him—-a silent warning—-and he stills.
Freyr smiles like a cat indulging a trapped bird. "Want? Such a mortal word, Sarah." His voice is smooth, almost gentle. Almost. "What I offer you is truth."
Justin's hand brushes my elbow, subtle, like he's grounding me—-like he's trying to remind me he's still here. That I don't have to face Freyr alone.
But Freyr speaks over the moment, his attention solely on me. "You've been wandering blind in the dark for far too long. Chasing whispers. Dreaming of doors you're not ready to open."\
My grip tightens around the pendant. Its warmth offers little comfort here.
Justin's breath is sharp behind me. He doesn't interrupt—-but I feel it, the tension rippling through him like a taut wire about to snap.
"What kind of truth?" I ask, knowing better but unable to stop myself.
Freyr hums, satisfaction curling at the edges of his mouth. "About Nox. About why it sings to you in your sleep. Why your blood stirs in these halls." His gaze lingers on me, the weight of it pressing heavier than the room itself. "But more than that…..about your parents."
The words hit like a blade slipping under armor.
Justin curses under his breath, low, almost inaudible—-but I hear it.
Freyr's smile sharpens. "Did you ever ask yourself why the Court feared them, Sarah? Why they vanished without a trace….why even those sworn to protect them turned their backs?"
I swallow hard. "You know."
"Oh, child," he purrs, rising from his throne, descending the steps like a shadow given flesh. "I was there."
Justin steps forward now, finally breaking his silence. "Enough, Freyr," he says, his voice cold, carefully measured. "This isn't why we're here."
Freyr ignores him.
Like he doesn't matter.
"I can give you what no one else will," he says to me alone. "The truth of your lineage. Of the blood you carry. Of the power your mother tried to hide from you." He stops close enough that the edge of his coat brush my arm. He doesn't touch me. He doesn't have to. His voice is enough. "But everything has a price."
"What price?" I whisper.
Behind me, Justin tenses. "Don't, Sarah. He's manipulating you. That's what he does."
But Freyr is already tilting his head, expression soft with something dangerously close to pity. "Come deeper into Nox, Sarah. There is a place only those of the Vanished Line can open. A vault sealed since the last war. You are the key."
Justin's voice is sharper now. "Sarah, he's using you."
I freeze. The words feel like a noose tightening around my throat. "You want me to open it?"
"I want you to see what was locked away from your kind. From you." His tone turns intimate, like a secret only I'm meant to hear. "You deserve to know the truth. You deserve to see what they took from you."
Justin's hand brushes my wrist now, his voice softer, urgent. "You don't have to do this. Not for him. Not for them."
But it's already too late.
Freyr smiles, sensing it. "Refuse, and you'll always wonder. Always doubt. You've come too far to turn away now."
The room is closing in. The air is thicker. The walls feel alive.
Justin's voice breaks through the haze. "Sarah."
But Freyr's words sink deeper.
The offer dangles between us, glinting sharp as glass.
The truth.
The price.
And the door I already know I'm going to open.
********
Justin's POV
I should stop her.
Every instinct tells me to step in, to grab her hand, to pull her away from Freyr's web before she steps straight into it.
But I don't move.
Because I can't.
Because it's not my choice to make.
Freyr knows it.
He's playing it perfectly—dangling what she craves most in front of her, feeding her just enough truth to keep her chasing the leash she doesn't realize he's already slipped around her throat.
And I stand here, useless.
Her breath is shallow now, her pulse thudding faster. She's already made the decision, even if she hasn't stepped forward yet.
"Sarah," I try, my voice soft this time. Not the command she's expecting. A plea.
She glances back at me—-and it hits harder than it should.
There's distance in her eyes now.
A crack I can't seal.
"You can't protect me from everything," she says, barely a whisper.
Freyr's smile sharpens behind her.
She doesn't see it.
But I do.
It's a performance. All of it.
Freyr doesn't care about the truth. He never has.
He cares about breaking her down, molding her into something useful to him.
And I'm standing here, watching him win.
I clench my fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms, but I don't stop her when she steps forward. I don't drag her back even though every part of me screams to do exactly that.
Because if I do, I'll lose her anyway.
So I let her make the choice.
I tell myself that's better.
That she'll see Freyr's game soon enough.
That she'll turn back.
But deep down, I know better.
Freyr's not just showing her a door—-he's offering her a place to belong. A place I can't compete with.
And the worst part?
The bond between us pulses sharper the further she walks away.
Not pulling her toward me.
Pulling me toward her.
Freyr turns slightly, just enough that his gaze meets mine over Sarah's shoulder. The satisfaction in his expression is deliberate. Calculated.
"You're losing her, boy."
He doesn't say it aloud.
I feel it.
I bite down hard enough to taste blood, forcing myself to stay still, to keep my face impassive.
But inside?
Inside I'm already unraveling.
********
Justin's POV
The corridor leading to the vault is colder than the rest of Nox, the walls slick with a dampness that seeps into your skin, into your bones. The further we walk, the more the place seems to close around us, suffocating, like the darkness itself is alive and watching.
Sarah walks ahead, the pendant in her hand glowing faintly, pulsing in rhythm with the chamber's heartbeat. She doesn't hesitate—not once.
Freyr doesn't even need to lead her anymore.
She follows the pull willingly.
And I follow them both.
But what else can I do?
Let her walk into a trap alone?
My hands curl into fists, but the ache in my chest is worse than anything physical. The bond is tighter now, tugging at me like a chain. Every step she takes away from me feels like a wound I can't stop reopening.
She stops in front of the ancient doors—-tall, black stone, lined with silver that hums faintly beneath the surface. They haven't been touched in centuries, yet they react to her presence immediately, the sigils flaring to life as if recognizing something inside her blood.
Freyr lingers behind her, his smile too soft, too indulgent.
Like he's already won.
"This is what they didn't want you to see," he murmurs, voice low, coaxing. "This is what your mother and father feared."
Sarah hesitates now, hand hovering just above the center sigil.
I step forward, can't stop myself this time. "Sarah." I keep my voice even, but the edge is there—-closer to something raw than I want her to hear. "You don't know what's behind that door."
She turns slightly, enough that I catch the flicker of conflict in her eyes—-but it's already buried beneath something harder. Determination.
Stubbornness.
"I need to know," she says. Quiet. Final.
And I know she's not talking to me anymore.
She presses her palm flat against the stone.
The air shifts.
The door groans, ancient magic grinding against itself as the vault begins to open.
A rush of cold, bitter air spills out, thick with the scent of old power, old blood, old lies. The shadows slither out like smoke, curling around Sarah's feet, brushing against her skin like they recognize her.
She doesn't flinch.
But I do.
The bond pulls tighter now—-violent, suffocating. I can feel her fear even if she hides it. Feel the way her heart stutters when the doors crack wide enough to show the void waiting inside.
And Freyr…..he just watches.
Satisfied.
Satisfied that she did what he wanted.
Satisfied that I couldn't stop her.
I step closer, ignoring the cold bite of the shadows, ignoring the ache in my head.
"I'm not letting you go in there alone," I say roughly.
She doesn't argue.
But she doesn't look at me either.
And that's worse.
I follow her into the dark, knowing I'm already losing this fight.
Knowing the worst is still coming.
The air inside the vault is colder than the grave.
Even I feel it.
And I shouldn't.
The shadows cling to the walls, thick, suffocating. The glow from Sarah's pendant barely pierces them, casting sickly light across old stone and ancient sigils carved deep into the floor. The chamber beyond is circular, hollow—but alive. The magic hums through the space, not welcoming…..waiting.
I've only heard stories about this place.
I never wanted to see it.
Sarah steps in like she belongs here.
I hate it.
She keeps walking, head high, breath sharp, even though I can feel how hard she's shaking inside. She doesn't show it. Not to me. Not to Freyr.
Freyr follows, a shadow at her back, smiling that soft, predatory smile that makes something in me snap.
I move in closer, keeping just enough distance to give her space—but not so much that Freyr forgets I'm here. I need him to know I see him. That I know exactly what he's doing.
Sarah stops in the center of the chamber.
The floor is lined with veins of silver, like a web waiting to trap whatever steps onto its heart. She doesn't hesitate. She kneels, placing her hand on the center sigil, the pendant glowing brighter—--feeding the room, or maybe the room feeding off her.
Freyr's voice slides through the dark like a caress. "Good, Sarah. The blood remembers. Even when the mind tries to forget."
I clench my jaw. "You don't know what you're doing, Sarah," I bite out. "This place was sealed for a reason."
But she doesn't even look at me.
And that's worse than if she had.
The sigils ignite beneath her hand, white-hot lines of power racing out in all directions, lighting the chamber in a blinding web. The shadows recoil, slithering up the walls, hissing.
Then the vision begins.
They hit her hard—-her body jerking, eyes wide, pupils blown.
I reach for her—-instinct, panic, the bond pulling hard—-but Freyr catches my wrist before I can.
"Let her see," he says softly, like he's comforting a child.
I rip my arm free, hatred boiling under my skin. "What are you showing her?"
He doesn't answer.
But I see it. The flickers in the air. Glimpses of the past leaking through the cracks she's opened.
Fae cities burning. Courts torn apart by war. A woman with Sarah's face screaming into the void, cradling something I can't see.
Sarah sobs.
But she doesn't pull away.
She leans into it.
And I stand here, useless.
Freyr leans closer to me, his voice a whisper only I can hear. "You can't protect her from this, Justin. You never could."
I want to rip his throat out.
But I don't move.
Because he is right.
She chose this.
And now…..I have to watch.
The visions keep coming. Stronger. Faster. They're swallowing her whole, dragging her deeper into memories that aren't hers—but are.
I force myself to step closer, kneeling beside her, even though the magic tears at me. I grip her hand, grounding her as best I can. My voice is rough, closer to breaking than I'll ever admit.
"Sarah. Look at me. Come back."
Her eyes flicker. She sees me—--but barely.
"I'm here," I whisper, even though I know it's not enough.
Freyr stands behind us both, silent, victorious.
And I know this is only the beginning.
It takes longer than it should for her to come back.
Her breathing is ragged, her hand trembling in mine. The glow from the sigils fades, leaving the chamber in heavy silence, the kind that seeps into your bones and stays there.
Her skin is ice cold.
"Sarah," I whisper, softer now. "It's over. You can let go."
But she doesn't.
Her flingers stay clenched tight around the pendant, knuckles white, like if she lets go of it, she'll fall apart.
Slowly, she blinks. The hollow, glassy look in her eyes shifts—-but only slightly.
She's here.
But not really.
"What did you see?"
Her lips part, but no sound comes.
She swallows hard, shaking her head like she's still trying to crawl out of whatever the vault shoved into her head. "I….it doesn't matter," she says hoarsely.
Bull.
But I don't push.
Because I see the crack behind the mask—-and I know if I push now, she'll shut me out completely.
Freyr is quiet, standing at the edge of the circle, hands folded like he's the patient mentor, not the one who orchestrated this whole show.
"Was it what you wanted?" he asks her gently. "Did you find the answers you sought?"
Sarah's shoulders stiffen. "No," she says tightly. "But it's enough."
Enough for what, she doesn't say.
But I feel it. The shift.
The weight of something settling into place inside her.
She stands on shaky legs, pulling away from me without looking back.
That hurts more than it should.
I rise after her, standing close but not touching.
Not now.
Freyr steps aside, giving her the space she thinks she needs. But his smile is sharper now, quieter.
He knows.
He knows he's won this round.
And the worst part is—--I let him.
When Sarah finally meets my gaze, there's a wall there now. Built fast. Built high. "You don't have to follow me, Justin," she says softly. Not cold. Not cruel.
But….distant.
Like I'm already on the outside looking in.
"I do," I say.
But she doesn't believe me.
And maybe I don't believe it either.
We leave the vault in silence.
Freyr doesn't follow.
But his shadow stays between us the whole way back.
*********
Sarah's POV
The cold clings to me long after we leave the vault.
I can still feel it under my skin, in my lungs, like it's soaked into my blood. But I keep walking. One foot in front of the other. Keep breathing. Keep pretending.
Justin doesn't say a word behind me.
Good.
I don't want him to.
I don't want him to ask what I saw again, what I meant, or why I'm shaking so badly I have to curl my hands up into fists just to keep them from trembling.
Because I don't have the answers.
Not yet.
The visions still burn behind my eyelids. My mother screaming into the dark. The flash of something silver. Shadows swallowing everything I thought I knew.
I tell myself it's enough.
It has to be.
I can't afford to fall apart now.
Freyr's words echo in my head like poison.
"They turned their backs on you. Even those sworn to protect you."
I glance over my shoulder, just once.
Justin walks a step behind me, jaw clenched, eyes locked on me like he's afraid to blink.
But he doesn't reach for me.
He doesn't try to stop me.
And that….that hurts more than it should.
Because for one terrible, fragile moment in that vault. I wanted him to pull me out. To force me to stop.
But he didn't.
He let me do it.
I focus on the next step.
And the one after that.
Behind me, I hear Justin's footsteps, close enough I know he's there, but somehow it feels like he's miles away. Like the space between us grew wider in that vault, filled with things neither of us can say out loud.
I don't look back again.
I'm afraid if I do, I won't know what to say either.
Freyr's presence drifts behind me like mist, patient, waiting. He doesn't press. He doesn't have to.
"You see it now, don't you?" His voice is soft, sliding beneath my skin like a whisper, meant only for me. "They'll never truly stand with you, Sarah. You walk this path alone."
I say nothing.
Because what would I say?
That he's wrong?
I keep walking.
Keep breathing.
Because it's all I can do.
********
Freyr's POV
They think they've left me behind.
They always do.
I watch them disappear into the shadows of the upper halls. Sarah's holding herself together with brittle threads. Justin walking behind her like a dutiful hound pretending he still has a leash on her.
He doesn't.
Not anymore.
The vault did its work.
The cracks are already spreading.
She saw enough to question everything she's been told...but not enough to understand the truth. Not yet. That will come later. When she's ready to beg for the rest.
I sink back into the hollow dark of the chamber, the lingering pulse of her magic still humming in the stone beneath my feet. She's stronger than I expected. Reckless. Hungry. Perfect.
The bond tethering her to Justin weakens by the day, even if neither of them has the courage to admit it yet. That's fine. They'll both bleed for it in time.
I trail a finger along the edge of the vault's now-closed doors, feeling the pulse of old power waiting inside. She only scratched the surface today.
Patience, Freyr.
There's still so much more for her to see.
So much more to take from her.
When the time comes, she'll open the final door herself.
And she'll think it was her choice.
I smile into the dark, letting the cold of the vault curl around me like an old friend.
Let them walk their path.
All paths lead to me in the end.