His pain was hers.
Her pain was his.
And all they felt was each other's pain.
One that connected and yet separated them.
A pain that went through not only her, but him as well, a pain too great to bear alone.
A pain that brought two souls together and a pain that made it unbearable to be apart.
His breathing was rough, irregular, as he knelt on the floor, his hand resting on the ground, the other wrapped around his forehead, squeezing as if that would make the pain go away. His wings tense on his back.
But it did not recede, it remained constant, was so tangible through the bond that he could mimic it with each of his cells, understand and comprehend how she felt with each emotion.
The situation burned itself into his memory, his thoughts, his heart. A pain that did not come from him, one that nevertheless filled him, so rich and strong that he did not know how to deal with it, did not know what he could do to alleviate it.
Not only to ease it, but to make it disappear, to nip it in the bud.
But he would not be rid of the pain unless he found her. For this pain he felt was beside the point. His pain was beside the point when he could think of nothing but her. It was she who was going through the real agony, the real pain and torture that he felt only mentally.
And he would never let anyone-
No one who had ever touched her would live. They would all die under his hand. Bloody and long and hateful. But they would not cherish another breath, not when they had done these abominations to his mate. They would get far worse, far worse than he cared to confess.
He knew what his inner beast was like, Rhys knew, and it was one of his traits that only came out once in centuries, so rare that you forgot who the Shadow Singer could become, who he turned into when he was only feeding off his dark, cold, heartless side.
He became someone no one would recognise. To someone everyone despised, yet would fear more.
He decided that when he had her back, had kept her safe-
Then he would let his true self run free. This once, even though he had sworn to himself that he would never make use of that side of his being again. Even though he had promised Rhys, this was- this situation-
He would make them suffer, make them die in endless agony, would search for them even when they were gone, in fucking hell, and give them no rest.
They would never deserve rest and relaxation. Only pain.
A pain they would never get used to, one that frightened them and fuelled the fruit.
When he opened his eyes, the others realised too late what had become of him.
Their friend was no longer there.
Before them, rising from the shadows, stood the shadow singer.
The true creature that this gift had made of him, the true figure that now, for the first time in centuries, made itself felt again.
He had become the man who murdered.
The monster who could not even be compared to the goddess of darkness herself.
The man who would bend his will to no one-
Except his equal.
And until he found her, he would unleash darkness.
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