The word still echoed in my mind.
Memory.
It lingered there like something unfinished, something that didn't belong to the present but refused to stay buried in the past.
The entity hadn't moved.
It didn't need to.
Its presence had already shifted the entire room. The house wasn't just tense anymore—it was resisting, the floor beneath us pulsing with a slow, deliberate force, as if something ancient within it was trying to push back against what stood before us.
And yet—
it remained.
That alone told me how dangerous this was.
"You have said enough," he said coldly.
The entity tilted its head slightly.
"No."
The air tightened instantly.
I could feel it through the bond—sharp, reactive, alert. Not panicked, not overwhelmed, but aware in a way that made my chest feel too small for my breath.
"You are not welcome here," he continued.
"Welcome is irrelevant," the entity replied.
"I disagree."
The word wasn't loud.
But it carried weight.
The house answered it.
The walls trembled faintly, the lines beneath the floor threatening to re-emerge, responding to him, to what he was, to what remained of him here.
For a moment—
I thought that would be enough.
It wasn't.
The entity didn't retreat.
Didn't even hesitate.
Instead, it took a step forward.
Not physically.
But the distance between us closed anyway.
The darkness around it deepened, folding inward, sharpening its shape just enough to feel intentional.
"You are delaying the inevitable," it said.
"And you are overestimating your reach."
The entity's presence shifted again.
Amused.
"You believe this is about reach?"
The question settled into the room like something alive.
I felt the bond tighten.
Not pulling me toward it.
Toward him.
Grounding.
Warning.
Protecting.
Good.
I focused on that.
On him.
Because if I looked at the entity for too long, I could feel something else creeping in—
Curiosity.
And that was exactly what it wanted.
"You offered memory," I said, forcing my voice steady. "So show me."
The reaction was immediate.
His head snapped toward me.
"No."
The word hit harder this time.
Not just command.
Something else.
Something closer to… fear.
The entity noticed.
Of course it did.
"You see?" it said softly. "He denies what you are owed."
"I don't care what you think I'm owed," I snapped.
But that wasn't entirely true.
And I hated that.
Because the moment the thought existed—
it grew.
What had I forgotten?
What had been taken?
What had I lost when I died?
The entity didn't need to answer those questions.
It just needed me to ask them.
"You want to know," it said.
I clenched my jaw.
"No."
"Yes."
The certainty in its voice made my stomach turn.
The bond pulsed again, stronger now, like it was reacting not just to the entity but to me.
To my thoughts.
To the shift happening under the surface.
"You are not helping," I muttered, not sure if I was talking to him or myself.
"I am preventing interference," he replied.
"By hiding things from me?"
"Yes."
The honesty hit like a blade.
I turned to him fully.
"That's not protection."
"It is."
"No, it's control."
The word hung between us.
Sharp.
Unavoidable.
For a brief second—
something in his expression changed.
Not anger.
Not denial.
Something deeper.
Then it was gone.
The entity leaned into that silence.
"This is what you resist," it said quietly. "Not the bond. Not the creatures. Him."
The bond reacted violently to that.
Not outwardly.
Internally.
A sharp, deep pulse that tightened through my chest like something rejecting the statement before I could.
Good.
That meant something.
"You're wrong," I said.
The entity tilted its head again.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
"Then prove it."
That again.
That challenge.
Always pushing me to choose.
To decide.
To commit.
I hated how effective it was.
I looked at him.
At the one thing in this entire situation that still felt real.
Still felt grounded.
Still felt—
mine to trust.
Even when I didn't understand it.
"You're not telling me everything," I said.
"No."
The answer came immediately.
No hesitation.
No apology.
Just truth.
"And you don't plan to."
"No."
I exhaled slowly.
"Okay."
The word surprised even me.
The entity noticed.
"Acceptance without understanding is weakness."
"No," I said quietly. "It's a choice."
The bond pulsed.
Deep.
Certain.
The entity's presence shifted slightly.
Less amused now.
More attentive.
"And you choose him," it said.
"Yes."
The word came easier than I expected.
And that terrified me more than anything else tonight.
Because it wasn't blind.
It wasn't forced.
It was—
real.
The bond surged again.
Stronger than before.
Not reactive.
Not defensive.
Aligned.
The house responded immediately.
The lines beneath the floor flared again, faint at first, then stronger, spreading outward from where we stood.
The entity stepped back.
Not much.
But enough.
"You see?" I said, my voice steadier now. "That's the difference."
The darkness around it shifted.
"That is temporary."
"Everything is," I shot back.
A brief silence followed.
Then—
"Very well."
The entity straightened slightly.
Not retreating.
Not leaving.
But changing.
"Then you will see it anyway."
My chest tightened.
"What?"
"You have already begun to remember."
The words hit like something cracking open inside my skull.
The bond surged—
violently.
Not outward.
Inward.
A sharp, blinding pressure exploded behind my eyes, stealing my breath before I could react.
I gasped, staggering slightly.
"What—what is that—"
Images.
Not clear.
Not complete.
Fragments.
A hand.
Not his.
Not mine.
Blood.
Not mine.
A voice.
Calling something—
not a name.
A recognition.
My chest seized.
"No—"
The bond snapped tight.
Painfully tight.
Grounding.
Pulling me back.
His hand caught my arm instantly.
"Stay with me."
His voice cut through the noise.
Sharp.
Commanding.
Real.
The images shattered.
Not gone.
Forced back.
Contained.
I sucked in a breath, my vision snapping back into place, the room spinning slightly as I fought to stay upright.
"What did you do?" I demanded, my voice shaking.
"I stopped it."
"That didn't feel like stopping!"
"It was."
The entity watched.
Silent now.
Observing.
Satisfied.
"That is only the beginning," it said.
I turned toward it, fury cutting through the lingering disorientation.
"You said you were here to talk."
"I did."
"That wasn't talking!"
"No," it agreed. "That was showing."
The bond pulsed again.
Hard.
Rejecting.
My chest rose and fell unevenly.
"What was that?" I asked, more to him than the entity.
"A fragment."
"Of what?"
A pause.
Then—
"Of what you lost."
The words landed heavily.
Too heavily.
Because now I knew.
Not exactly what I had seen.
But what it meant.
There was something missing.
Something taken.
Something buried.
And the entity—
knew how to reach it.
I looked at him.
"You knew that could happen."
"Yes."
"And you still didn't tell me."
"No."
I laughed once.
Breathless.
"Unbelievable."
The entity shifted again.
Satisfied.
"You see now."
I ignored it.
Completely.
Because this wasn't about it anymore.
This was about him.
About the things he refused to say.
About the pieces of me I didn't even know were gone.
"You don't trust me," I said.
"I do."
"No," I snapped. "You don't. If you did, you wouldn't keep doing this."
A pause.
Then—
"I trust you to survive."
That answer hit harder than anything else.
Because it wasn't the same.
And we both knew it.
The bond pulsed again.
Not violently.
Not painfully.
Just—
aware.
And for the first time since all of this started—
I felt it shift.
Not breaking.
Not weakening.
But changing.
Because now—
I knew there were things being kept from me.
Things that could change everything.
And the worst part?
The entity was right about one thing.
I wanted to see them.
Even if I shouldn't.