Night had fully fallen, and finally, Oliver and I were alone again. Briar and Ami had set up a few tents while we were in Gyra.
It was small and cramped, but it would do. I rolled out my bedroll and lay down. The bond pulled as Oliver stepped into the tent. He began rolling out his own as the tent flap flipped.
I lay on my side and looked at him. His dark hair fell into his eyes. He lay down and faced me. “You're staring.” He stated.
I looked away, my face getting hot. I heard him move closer and suddenly felt his heat against me. His hand touched my chin and brought my face to his. “You can look at me all you want.”
Maybe it was the feeling of safety.
Maybe it was the tension from the day.
Hell, it could have been because the darkness seemed to cloak us in the night.
I moved closer to him and brought my lips to his again.
I felt his breath catch, and then he pulled me closer. His mouth began to roam from my lips to my jaw, as he kissed me, his breath got hotter. A small sound escaped my mouth before I could stop it as the bond flared.
He pulled away. Leaving me breathless. His eyes searched mine in the faint moonlight. “Gods, I have wanted this for so long.” He cupped my face in his hands. “Sahora…I…” He trailed off. I knew what he wanted to say. The words he wanted to leave his chest.
I shook my head. “Don’t. Please. I am not ready yet.” I told him my throat was raw. I so badly wanted to hear those words, I could feel them already landing in my bones but I wasn’t ready. How can I accept something that big?
He nodded, “Alright.” He pushed hair away from my face. “You already know anyway.” He leaned in again rest his forehead on mine.
I leaned into him and closed my eyes. Focusing on his breathing with me.
Morning came too quickly.
The roar of the Waterfall of Sorrows filled the air, vibrating through the ground beneath my bedroll. Mist drifted across the clearing like low‑hanging clouds, cool against my skin. The others were already awake, Briar and Ami tending the fire, Cyrus checking his gear, Elyon sitting cross‑legged with their eyes closed, listening to something none of us could hear.
Oliver stepped out of the tent behind me.
The bond pulled.
Not painfully.
Not awkwardly.
Just… aware.
Too aware.
He rubbed the back of his neck, hair still mussed from sleep. When his eyes met mine, something flickered there, the memory of last night, the warmth of it, the closeness, the almost‑words.
We didn’t speak.
We didn’t need to.
Castor looked between us and groaned. “Gods, it’s worse in the daylight.”
Ami elbowed him. “Leave them alone.”
“I’m trying,” he muttered. “They’re making it difficult.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “We should get moving.”
Elyon opened their eyes. “The entrance is ready.”
They pointed toward the Waterfall, not the pool below it, but the curtain of water itself. Behind it, barely visible through the spray, was a narrow crack in the stone.
A passage.
A way down.
Briar tightened her cloak. “It’s going to be cold.”
Cyrus grinned. “It’s going to be fun.”
Castor rolled his eyes. “You have a strange definition of fun.”
The Hollowfang padded to Oliver’s side, massive and silent, its fur damp with mist. It nudged his shoulder, then looked toward the Waterfall as if urging us forward.
Oliver placed a hand on its flank. “You’re coming with us?”
The creature rumbled, a low, steady sound that felt like agreement.
Ami smiled. “Good. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
We approached the Waterfall.
The roar grew louder, drowning out everything else. Mist clung to my skin, cold and sharp. The bond hummed beneath my ribs, reacting to something deeper, something ancient.
Oliver stepped beside me, close enough that our arms brushed.
The bond warmed.
He didn’t look at me.
I didn’t look at him.
But the awareness sat between us like a living thing.
Castor tested the stone with his boot. “The entrance is narrow. We’ll have to go single file.”
Elyon nodded. “And once we’re inside, the path drops sharply. The caves beneath the Waterfall are older than the temple. Older than Banthys.”
Briar shivered. “Older than the Empire?”
“Older than everything,” Elyon murmured.
The Hollowfang growled softly.
Oliver inhaled. “Let’s go.”
Castor went first, slipping behind the curtain of water. Cyrus followed, then Briar, then Ami. Elyon stepped in after them, the mist swirling around him like it recognized him.
I hesitated.
Oliver touched my arm, gentle, grounding.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Are you?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Just… processing.”
A faint smile tugged at my mouth. “Same.”
He swallowed, eyes flicking to my lips for half a heartbeat before he looked away.
The bond pulsed, warm, certain.
“Come on,” he said softly. “We go together.”
I stepped behind the Waterfall.
Cold water crashed over my shoulders, soaking through my clothes in an instant. The world narrowed to stone and spray and the thunder of falling water.
Oliver followed, the Hollowfang slipping in behind him with surprising grace.
The passage was narrow, barely wide enough for one person. The stone beneath my feet was slick, worn smooth by centuries of water. The air was cold, damp, heavy with the scent of minerals and something older.
Castor’s voice echoed from ahead. “Watch your footing. It drops here.”
I peered down.
A steep descent waited beneath us, a narrow slope carved by centuries of water, slick with moss and shadow. Castor moved carefully, boots finding the safest footholds.
“Slow,” he warned. “One slip and you’ll break something important.”
Cyrus grinned. “Like my pride?”
“Like your neck,” Castor said.
I stepped down after him, fingers brushing the damp stone for balance. Oliver followed close behind me, the Hollowfang moving with surprising grace despite its size.
The roar of the Waterfall faded behind us, replaced by the steady drip of water echoing through the cavern. The air grew colder, heavier, thick with the scent of minerals and something older, something that hummed beneath my skin.
The bond pulsed.
Oliver’s presence pressed warm against my back, steadying me when the stone shifted under my feet..
“You okay?” he murmured.
“Yes,” I whispered. “You?”
He hesitated. “Trying not to think about how dark it is.”
I smiled faintly. “You’re doing great.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, the sound brushing the back of my neck. The bond warmed, too aware of how close we were.
Castor glanced back. “You two good?”
“Yes,” we said at the same time.
He groaned. “Gods, it’s worse in the cave.”
Ami snorted. “Leave them alone.”
“I’m trying,” Castor muttered. “They’re making it impossible.”
We continued downward.
The passage widened into a cavern lit by faint bioluminescent moss, pale blue light shimmering across the walls like starlight trapped underground. The Hollowfang padded ahead, ears pricked, tail low.
Elyon stepped beside it, eyes half‑closed. “The flame is deeper. Much deeper.”
“How deep?” Briar asked.
Elyon didn’t answer.
They didn’t need to.
The ground trembled beneath us, a low, resonant vibration that rolled through the stone like a heartbeat.
Oliver stiffened. “Did you feel that?”
“Yes,” I said.
The bond pulsed sharply, a warning.
Castor drew his sword. “Something’s moving.”
Ami lifted her staff. “Something big?”
Cyrus grinned. “Hopefully.”
Briar elbowed him. “Hopefully not.”
The Hollowfang growled, low, rumbling, protective.
Elyon’s voice dropped to a whisper. “The caves are waking.”
A crack echoed through the cavern.
Then another.
Stone shifted above us, dust drifting down like falling ash.
Oliver grabbed my arm. “Sahora—”
“I know.”
The bond flared, hot, bright, urgent.
Castor shouted, “Move!”
We dove forward just as a massive chunk of stone crashed down behind us, sealing the passage we’d come through.
Ami cursed. “Well. No going back.”
Cyrus smirked. “Forward it is.”
The Hollowfang snarled, stepping in front of us, fur bristling.
Elyon’s eyes snapped open, glowing faintly. “Something is coming.”
From the darkness ahead, a low, guttural sound echoed, not an animal, not a creature.
Something older.
Something guarding.
Oliver stepped closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine. “Stay behind me.”
I shook my head. “Not a chance.”
The bond pulsed, fierce, steady, united.
Castor lifted his blade. “Ready yourselves.”
The cavern trembled again.
A shadow moved in the dark.
Large.
Slow.
Breathing.
The Hollowfang snarled, stepping forward.
Elyon whispered, “The guardian of the flame.”
My heart hammered.
Oliver’s hand brushed mine, not to hold, not to comfort, but to anchor.
“We face it together,” he said.
I nodded. “Together.”
The shadow lunged.
And the caves swallowed us whole.