The vial sat upon the pedestal like a sun trapped in glass.
Every second its golden glow pulsed, the weaker Arina looked.
Her knees trembled beneath her. Her aura flickered, sputtered, barely more than a dying ember. Sweat slicked her skin. Each breath rasped louder than the last.
She reached for it.
Aiden caught her wrist.
Her eyes snapped to him, sharp even in her weakness. "Let go."
"Wait." His voice was steady, but his grip trembled. "You heard what she said. This isn’t just a cure. It’s a chain. Once you drink, you’re... tied. With this tree, and me.."
Arina bared her teeth, half a snarl, half a plea. "I’m already chained, Aiden. To this sickness. To death. Don’t you get it?" Her voice cracked. "If I don’t drink, I’m gone. That’s the only chain that matters."
Aiden’s throat closed. He wanted to argue, to stall, to say to her, if she just let him fuck her, she will be cured. But her words carved the air raw.
Many questions came. Why? Why and how was he connected to this? Why did Lilith laughed. Is she behind this?
Ilyana shifted, her child still clutching at her gown. Her voice was calm, but heavy. "She is right. Potion heals. But it also binds. To drink is to accept a fate entwined. No work, if no link with him."
Arina’s glare flicked to the elf woman. "Entwined or not, I’m not dying here."
Aiden’s hand slackened against her wrist. He saw it then—really saw it. Not just her stubbornness. Not just her fury. But her terror.
The terror of someone who had faced battlefields without blinking... but could not face the quiet, creeping death inside her veins.
Slowly, he let go.
"...Are you sure? ," he whispered, "like she said, I will need to drink the other half, for it to work...."
Arina blinked. "...Yes, drink it!!"
He reached for the vial. His palm pressed against the glass. It was warm. Almost alive. "If you’re tied to me...Whatever this bond is... it’s not yours alone to carry."
For the first time, her mask cracked fully. Her eyes widened, trembling, lips parting as if to protest. But no words came.
The silence between them held more than any vow.
She stepped closer. Together, their hands cradled the vial.
The glass hummed, brighter now, the liquid inside swirling as though stirred by unseen hands.
Aiden met her gaze. "Ready?"
Arina swallowed hard. "No."
And she raised it to her lips anyway.
The liquid slid down her throat like molten sunlight. Her body convulsed, muscles seizing as if her veins had been set aflame. She gasped, clutching her chest.
Golden light spilled across her skin, racing along every scar, every wound.
Aiden drank what remained.
The taste was sharp, metallic, yet sweet—like honey laced with blood. His vision blurred. His knees buckled. Light seared through him, burning and binding, until he felt threads stitching through his very soul.
He collapsed. Arina collapsed with him.
And then—
A shockwave.
[Error, Soul bond detected]
[Loading....]
[System determined Arina to be categorized to leashed possession.]
The chamber pulsed outward, rattling shelves, shattering vials into glittering shards.
In Aiden’s chest, his heart pounded once, twice—then stuttered. He choked, his breath torn away—
—and Arina screamed.
Not in pain. Not in fear. But because her chest mirrored his. Her heartbeat faltered when his did. Her lungs seized when his breath failed.
They were one.
One body. Two vessels. A single chain stretched across them both.
Aiden gasped, clawing for air. His lungs expanded again, ragged. And with him—Arina breathed.
Their bodies arched in unison, caught in the rhythm of something greater than themselves. The glow subsided at last, leaving them panting, sprawled side by side on the stone floor.
"...Fuck," Aiden whispered, his voice raw. "That... felt like being ripped apart and sewn back together."
Arina turned her head weakly toward him. Her eyes were wet, her lips curved in a broken grin. "...Welcome to my pain, lover boy."
But beneath her words, she felt it—her sickness gone. The rot that had gnawed at her insides had vanished. Her body thrummed with new strength.
Alive. She was alive.
And yet the bond tugged at her chest with every beat of his heart.
Her smile faltered.
Because now, her life wasn’t hers alone.
The silence that followed was thick—heavier than the screams that had shaken the chamber.
Aiden lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, lungs dragging in air like he’d been drowned and pulled ashore. Every nerve in his body still hummed from the potion’s fire.
Beside him, Arina pushed herself up onto trembling elbows. Her skin glowed faintly, the last threads of golden light fading into her veins. Her breath steadied. The ache—the sickness—was gone.
Gone.
She pressed a hand to her stomach, to her ribs, to her chest. For the first time in months, maybe years, there was no pain gnawing her insides. The realization hit harder than any blade.
"I..." Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and tried again, softer. "I feel... strong. Stronger than I’ve ever—"
Her words cut off. Her eyes widened.
Aiden coughed suddenly, clutching his side. Pain stabbed his ribs. And she felt it.
The same pain, sharp and immediate, lanced through her body as if it had been hers all along. Her hand flew to her ribs, mirroring his.
"—what the fuck," she hissed, doubling over.
Aiden groaned. "You... felt that too?"
"Of course I fucking felt it!" Her glare snapped to him, but it wasn’t just anger—it was fear, raw and bright in her eyes. "You stub your toe, I feel it? You get gutted, I get gutted? What the hell did we just do!?"
He gave a weak laugh, though it came out half a wince. "Guess it’s... what they meant by ’bond.’"
Arina’s fists clenched against her thighs. Her breath came sharp, uneven, like she was trying not to scream. For someone who had stared down monsters without flinching, this—this loss of control—was worse.
Her life was tied to his.
Her survival—hinged on him.
She had lived her whole life refusing to depend on anyone, carving her path with blade and blood. And now? Now, with a single choice, she was shackled.
Her eyes burned. She tilted her head back, trying to swallow it down.
Aiden noticed. He pushed himself upright, still wincing. "Arina—"
"Don’t," she snapped, voice cracking sharper than steel. "Don’t you dare look at me like that. Like I’m... broken."
He fell quiet.
She stared at him then—really stared. His face was pale, his lips cracked, his body still battered from before. Yet his eyes held steady, even now, even after everything.