Page 111 of The Edge of Darkness

Somehow, I had known it would come to this. Whatever the Aura was, it was attached too deep. It was everywhere, woven into the thread of my very being, twined around every memory and emotion I possessed.

My heart seemed to shudder as I turned the information over in my head.

Niall was speaking now, arguing with the wraith, from the sound of it. But Auren . . . Auren was looking at me, nearly in tears.

She must have put the pieces together.

The woman hadn’t known me long, but I had a keen sense that she saw me for what I really was: a lost soul, bottling up every emotion, afraid to let my guard down and grant the Aura any further access to myself.

Auren had always been able to understand that which was left unspoken. Looking at her now, I knew that she knew.

What if I lost everything in the process? The question smothered any ounce of hope I had left in me. But, like usual, I kept my head high, and swallowed the lump in my throat that was rising all too quickly.

Nivelle was saying something . . . My name . . .

“Aremis? Aremis?”

I snapped back to the present, leaving my thoughts to scatter.

“When you release the Aether into the world for your spying, or whatever it is you do, does it come back willingly? Or do you have to force it?”

“I—uhh . . . it comes back willingly. Or, naturally—if you will. I’ve never had to worry about it, if that’s what you mean.”

Nivelle’s brow pinched, more so in disappointment than confusion. “It is content with its vessel . . .”

Content indeed. Being the longest Cheshm Zadan to live—according to record—had to mean something.

Perhaps the Aether favored me.

I didn’t know if that made me feel better, or significantly worse.

“If it is, indeed, content, that makes ridding myself of it all the more difficult,” I concluded.

“And dangerous,” Nivelle added.

“Unleashing such a force could be used to our advantage,” Niall said. He was now staring at me like I was a map spread across the war room’s table.

Shit. I knew that look. “Let me guess, you’ll have the perfect spot for me on the battlefield?”

He raised a brow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Something like that.”

I huffed a laugh, the best response I could muster, given the circumstances.

Gods, how was I going to tell Maeson about this?

Ever since she had become a permanent part of this group, I’d struggled even more than I had before. In her presence, I was simply undone. There was something there, an emotion I wouldn’t let myself become too attached to. I felt more whole around Maeson. A baser instinct in me came alive in her presence. Had the Aura not been a part of me, the feeling would be stronger, deeper. But I couldn’t test it, because the more I allowed myself to feel, the more the entity sank its claws in. I had no choice but to distance myself from those feelings whenever they surfaced.

I’d tried for years to decode how the Aura worked—what it was stealing, dampening, and inhibiting. My conclusion was that it stripped me of the ability to experience the fullness of my emotions, the pure enjoyment of life, and the ability to truly love. I knew the beginnings of those things. Knew I was capable of them. But I always had to pull myself back from experiencing them to their full extent.

Niall, Roirdan, and Remic were the only ones I’d ever spoken to about the struggle, before Auren came along. Each of them resonated with me on a different level. But Niall had always been the one to understand me the most. He knew what was at stake if too much control was lost. His power had a grip on him too, no matter how much he tried to deny it. He knew just as well as I, that if either of us let go—truly let go—and gave in to what we really felt deep down, we might not come back from it. My power used emotions as a tether to control my reality. His was brought forth through impulses, moments of weakness.

Both had their consequences.

Neither were anything good.

Knowing what the Aura was, knowing it was the Aether, made so much more sense. Though, there were more unknowns now than ever. And not knowing was worse.

I inhaled deeply, mentally walking myself back from the precipice of complete overwhelm . . . only to find everyone staring at me.