CHAPTER 388: GONE WITH THE WIND

Winter/Sylthara~

The door slammed shut behind Nicholas, and the sound reverberated through my chest like a death knell. For a split second, I just stood there, frozen in the wreckage of my true form—horns curling from my head, skin glowing with that unnatural pallor, shadows whispering around me like loyal pets. Then it hit. The pain. Oh gods, the pain.

It started as a sharp twist in my gut, like a knife plunging deep and twisting without mercy. But it wasn’t just physical; it was the mate bond snapping taut, recoiling from his rejection. His horror, his betrayal—it flooded through the invisible thread that connected us, amplifying every ounce of his shock into agony that tore through my body. I gasped, clutching at my chest as my knees buckled. The carpet rushed up to meet me, soft and unforgiving, and I collapsed onto it, curling into a fetal position. Waves of fire ripped through my veins, as if my blood had turned to molten lava. My vision blurred with tears, and I rolled side to side, whimpering like a wounded animal. "No, no, no," I moaned, my voice raw and broken. Every muscle screamed, my heart pounding erratically, threatening to burst. It felt like my soul was being ripped in two—one half clinging to the love I’d foolishly believed in, the other shrieking at the monster he’d seen.

I couldn’t breathe. The room spun—the four-poster bed looming like a judgmental throne, the heavy velvet curtains rustling as if mocking my vulnerability. The wind blew outside, slightly shaking the windows like this was just another beautiful day, like my pain was nothing. How could I have been so stupid? Vaelthor’s warnings echoed in my mind, his voice from our last hushed conversation: "They’re our enemy, Winter. Don’t let your heart blind you." But I had. I’d let Nicholas in, bared everything, and now this pain was my punishment. Mate rejection—it wasn’t just emotional; for demons like us, it was a physical torment, a biological backlash that could kill if it went on too long.

With trembling hands, I clawed at the air, forcing my powers to stir despite the haze of agony. My shadows flickered weakly around me, responding to my desperation. I had to hide. I couldn’t let anyone see me like this—not the guards, not the servants, and especially not Vaelthor or the royals. Gritting my teeth, I channeled the last dregs of my strength into the glamour. It slithered over me like a cold shroud, inch by inch. My horns retracted with a painful pop, dissolving into nothingness. My skin warmed to a human tone, the midnight-blue veins fading away. My hair lightened from raven black to the deceptive blonde I’d worn for weeks, falling down my back in tame waves. My eyes—I could feel them shifting from blood-red to a harmless blue, the illusion snapping into place like a lock clicking shut.

I lay there for a moment, panting, the pain still throbbing but dulled just enough for me to think. Sweat beaded on my forehead, mixing with the tears that streamed down my cheeks. The transformation had taken everything out of me; my limbs felt like lead, my powers a faint hum instead of the roaring force they usually were. But the real torment wasn’t in my body anymore—it was in my heart. Guilt crashed over me like a truck, heavier than the rejection pain. Vaelthor. My brother. My everything. I’d betrayed him. We’d come here with a plan—vengeance for our parents, for Mother Kalmia slain by their heroes, for Father Shadow imprisoned in eternal darkness. We’d infiltrated this palace, posed as harmless, all to strike back. And I’d thrown it all away for what? A boy who looked at me like I was the devil incarnate?

Self-loathing bubbled up, hot and bitter. I hated myself for being so weak, for letting Nicholas’s cocky smile and magnetic eyes chip away at my resolve. For abandoning the revenge that burned in our blood, clinging instead to a love that shattered the moment he saw the real me. And now, because of my stupidity, Vaelthor was in danger. Nicholas would tell them—his parents, Sebastian and Cassandra, the very ones who’d helped kill our mother. Katrina, with her fierce loyalty to her family. The king and queen themselves. If they learned Vaelthor was a demon like me, they’d hunt him down. Imprison him, or worse. Kill him. My brother, my shield, the one who’d protected me since we were children hiding in the shadows—gone because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

I couldn’t face him. The thought of seeing the disappointment in his calculating eyes, the hurt beneath his charming facade—it would break me completely. But I had to warn him. Sobbing quietly, I reached inward, tapping into our sibling bond, the mind link we’d forged in blood and darkness years ago. It flared to life, a shadowy thread connecting our thoughts across the palace.

"Vaelthor?" I sent, my mental voice trembling, laced with the raw edge of my tears. "Brother, please... answer me."

There was a pause, then his presence flooded in—strong, ambitious, with that undercurrent of danger that always made him seem larger than life. "Syl? What’s wrong? You sound... broken. Where are you?"

The concern in his tone only made the guilt worse. I curled tighter on the floor, my nails digging into the carpet as another wave of pain from the bond rippled through me. "I... I messed up. Everything. I’m so sorry, Vaelthor. I told Nicholas. I showed him my true form. The demon side. Everything."

Silence instantly took hold of the link. Then, a sharp intake of breath followed in my mind, like a hiss. "You did what? Sylthara, why? I warned you—"

"I know!" I interrupted, my thoughts fracturing with sobs. "I know you did. But I thought... I thought he loved me. The mate bond, it felt so real. He swore nothing would change, that he’d never hate me or hurt you. But when I dropped the glamour... his face, Vaelthor. The horror. He called me a demon, like it was a curse. Then he ran. He just... ran."

"Damn it, Syl" . His voice turned calculating, edged with urgency. "Where is he now? Did he say anything about telling the others?"

"I don’t know," I wailed mentally, the pain making my thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm. "But he will. He has to. His parents helped kill Mother. How could he not? And now you’re in danger because of me. If they find out about you... about us... they’ll come for you. I’m so sorry. I should have listened. I abandoned our plans, our revenge, for this stupid love that sees me as a monster. I hate myself for it. For putting you at risk. You’re all I have left, and I ruined it."

" Syl, stop." His tone softened, that charming danger giving way to the brotherly protectiveness I knew so well. "You’re not a monster. You’re my sister. We’ll fix this. Just tell me where you are—I’ll come to you. We can get out together, regroup. The revenge isn’t lost; we can still—"

"No!" I cut him off, desperation surging. "You have to leave. Now. Get out of the palace before they come for you. Run, Vaelthor. Far away. Don’t wait for me—I’m the one who screwed up. Forgive me, please. I beg you. Don’t hate me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you more than anything. You’re my compass, my shield. But I can’t... I can’t drag you down with me."

"Sylthara, wait—don’t do anything rash. I could never hate you. We’re family. Blood. Shadows. Let me help—"

But I couldn’t bear it anymore. His forgiveness only amplified my shame. With a wrenching effort, I severed the link, slamming a mental wall between us. It felt like ripping out a piece of my own soul—painful, final. No more whispers, no more connections. He wouldn’t be able to reach me again, not unless I allowed it. And I wouldn’t. I couldn’t risk him coming after me, putting himself in more danger just for a weak sister like me. He was better off alone.

Tears soaked the carpet beneath my cheek, but I forced myself to stand. My legs wobbled, the rejection pain still gnawing at my insides like a beast, but I pushed through. I couldn’t stay here. Not in Nicholas’s room, with its scent of leather and parchment clinging to everything, reminding me of stolen kisses and whispered promises now turned to ash. I smoothed my dress—simple, human-looking now—and crept to the door. Peeking out, the hallway was empty, the palace corridors dimly lit by beautiful lights that formed long, dancing shadows. Perfect for someone like me.

I slipped out, my footsteps silent as I wove through the maze of stone walls and tapestries depicting heroic battles—ironic, given how those "heroes" had destroyed my family. A guard rounded the corner, his armor clinking softly. I froze, heart hammering, but he merely nodded. "Lady Winter," he said with a polite smile. "Out for an early walk? The wind is fierce out there—mind the paths."

I forced a weak smile, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Yes, just... needing some air. Thank you."

He nodded again and continued on, none the wiser. To him, I was just the quiet girl, Nicholas’s mate, heading out for a stroll. But in my mind, it was goodbye. Forever. I was running—far from this palace, from the person who’d never accept me, from the brother I’d endangered. If I died on the way, so be it. The pain clawing at my chest was worse than any death; it was emptiness, a void where love and family had once been.

Once outside, the wind picked up, hitting me full force. The sand it carried pelted my skin like needles, chilling my bones in seconds. It howled through the palace grounds, whipping my hair across my face. I disguised my scent with a flicker of shadow magic, weaving illusions around my aura to make me smell like nothing more than wet earth and the storm that was definitely coming. No one could track me now—not Vaelthor who knew everything about me, Nicholas with his vampire senses, not his wolf Leo snarling in pursuit.

I dashed through the gates, heart racing with a mix of fear and grim determination. The city sprawled before me, lights blurred by the tears clouding my vision. Spotting a lone taxi idling at the curb—its driver slumped inside, probably waiting out the weather—I reached out with my nightmare powers. It was effortless, even in my weakened state; darkness manipulation was my birthright. Tendrils of shadow snaked into his mind, weaving a dream-like possession. His eyes glazed over as I climbed into the back seat, my tears dripping steadily down my cheeks and even onto the worn leather of his seats.

"Drive," I commanded, my voice laced with compulsion. "Take me far from this city. Anywhere—as long as it’s totally far away. Don’t stop until I say."

He nodded blankly, the possession taking hold like a puppet on strings. The engine roared to life, and we peeled away from the curb, tires splashing through puddles that reflected the cloudy sky like shattered mirrors.

As the palace faded in the rearview, I collapsed against the seat, sobs wracking my body. The city lights streaked by in a blur—neon signs flickering like false hopes, the rain finally came pouring, people huddled under umbrellas oblivious to the girl whose world had just imploded. I cried harder, ugly, heaving gasps that fogged the window. Nicholas’s face haunted me—his horror, his betrayal. Vaelthor’s voice echoed in my severed mind: ’I could never hate you.’ But I hated myself enough for both of us. Our plans, our family legacy—gone. Love had turned me into a fool, and now I was alone, racing into the unknown. The pain in my chest throbbed with every mile, a reminder that some wounds never healed. My world had collapsed forever, and all I could do was run from the ruins like the coward I was.