Yearning

The night hung heavy over Obsidian Point, the sky suffocating beneath thick clouds that smothered the moonlight. The jagged cliffs stood like forgotten sentinels, their edges frayed by time and erosion. Below, the Hollow King's scar throbbed faintly—a dark fissure stretching across the earth like a wound that refused to heal.

Ethan Ward stood at the edge, his breath misting in the cold air. His heart pounded, though he couldn't say why. His gaze was fixed on the churning void beneath him. The shadows swirled, coiling and recoiling as if they recognized his presence.

The wind shifted, carrying a whisper.

"Ethan."

His entire body tensed. The voice was soft yet sharp, familiar yet foreign. It slithered into his ears like silk dipped in ice.

His hands clenched into fists. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe.

She's gone. She's gone. She's gone.

The whisper came again, closer this time.

"You know better."

His eyes snapped open. The shadows below no longer simply swirled; they stretched upward, forming long tendrils that seemed to reach for him.

And in the core of the darkness, faint but unmistakable—two eyes, pale and luminous, watching him.

Victoria's eyes.

Ethan's breath caught in his throat.

For weeks, she'd haunted his dreams—soft laughter in the dark, fleeting touches on his skin when no one was near, a familiar perfume lingering long after he'd left a room. He'd dismissed it as residue from the ritual, a phantom presence left behind.

But this… this felt real.

"You're mine, Ethan," the voice purred. "You always have been."

His knees went weak. The weight of the truth—her truth—pressed down on him like a yoke he hadn't realized he missed. When Victoria had controlled him, everything had made sense. There had been no confusion, no inner war. Just purpose. Clarity.

And now… now he was lost. Torn between Anna's fierce resolve to fight the Hollow King and Victoria's lingering call from the abyss.

The shadows slithered closer. The fissure pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

He could feel it. Her.

The temptation to step forward was overwhelming.

Anna watched from a distance.

Hidden in the shadow of the abandoned watchtower, she gripped the cold metal of her binoculars. Her heart raced as she saw Ethan standing at the cliff's edge, swaying slightly, staring into the void.

The scar of the Hollow King pulsed beneath him, and she swore she saw the shadows move toward his feet like hungry serpents.

He hears her.

Anna bit her lower lip. She'd suspected this would happen—Victoria wasn't gone, merely dormant, her consciousness latched onto the Hollow King's psychic lattice. But she'd hoped she had more time.

Her fingers tightened around the hilt of the dagger strapped to her thigh.

You knew this would happen, she reminded herself. You knew he'd be drawn back to her.

It was inevitable. Victoria hadn't just been Ethan's tormentor; she'd been his guide. His magnetic north.

And now, the pull of that compass was stronger than ever.

Anna's jaw tightened. She couldn't let him fall back into Victoria's grasp.

Even if stopping him meant risking everything.

She adjusted her stance, preparing to step out of the shadows—

When Ethan moved.

He took a step toward the edge.

The shadows surged upward, coiling around his calves like chains. He didn't resist. The cold bit into his skin, but the sensation was… comforting. Familiar.

His eyes locked on the luminous gaze within the darkness.

"Victoria," he whispered.

The shadows rippled. The eyes blinked slowly.

"Yes, my love."

Ethan's throat tightened. "Why… why are you still here?"

"Because you never truly let me go." The voice caressed him like a velvet glove against his skin. "You opened the door, Ethan. And now… I need you to open it again."

The fissure widened beneath his feet. Shadows slithered into the air, forming indistinct shapes—clawing hands, featureless faces with gaping mouths. The Hollow King's essence surged toward him, drawn to his presence like iron to a magnet.

Ethan swayed, his breathing ragged. "I… I can't."

The shadows quivered. Victoria's voice softened.

"You already have."

His pulse faltered. He felt the shift within himself—the tether pulling taut. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was unmistakable: a thread of darkness anchored in his chest, stretching deep into the fissure.

Victoria's thread.

Panic gripped him. He staggered backward, trying to break free. The shadows tightened.

"You're mine, Ethan," she said again, and the ground beneath him cracked. "Come home."

Anna saw Ethan collapse to his knees. His face twisted with agony as shadows surged around him. His body convulsed once, twice, and then went eerily still.

"No," she breathed.

She sprinted forward. The cold bit through her boots as she skidded to a stop beside him. His eyes were open—but blank, silver swirling where warm brown used to be.

"Ethan!" Anna dropped to her knees, shaking his shoulders. "Come back to me!"

The shadows coiled around his torso, pulsing in time with his shallow breaths. His lips moved, forming words she couldn't hear.

She grabbed the dagger from her thigh. Without hesitation, she slashed her palm and pressed the bleeding hand to his forehead.

"Exsurgat anima!" she commanded. "Come back to yourself!"

The blood shimmered as it made contact. Ethan gasped, his eyes snapping open. His body lurched backward as if struck by lightning. The shadows recoiled.

Anna caught him as he fell forward.

His weight pressed against her, his skin clammy, his pulse erratic.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Ethan whispered, "She was here."

Anna's throat tightened. "I know."

"She wants me to open the door." His voice shook. "She's… she's inside me, Anna. I can feel her."

Anna closed her eyes. The implications were horrifying.

Victoria wasn't just haunting the Hollow King's network.

She was using Ethan as her anchor.

And unless they severed that connection soon…

Victoria Lane would return, stronger than ever.