Veilbound

CH 06: The Memory Burn

Sam’s POV

Sky hadn’t said a word since the visitor disappeared.

He sat curled up in the corner, staring at his hand like it betrayed him.

“She marked me,” he finally said. “There was this—this gold light. It burned, Sam.”

I nodded slowly. “She’s one of the old guardians. They only mark people chosen by the Veil.”

“I didn’t choose any of this,” he whispered.

Neither did I.

That night, while Sky slept, I stayed awake. Watching him breathe. Thinking of how much he didn’t know yet.

How much I never told him.

The truth itched in my chest like an old scar being peeled open.

I closed my eyes.

And I remembered.

Elarion, Years Ago – Sam’s Flashback

The tower gardens were silent. The twin moons hung heavy above, one red, one white. The air smelled of nightbloom and ash.

I was a court messenger. A nobody.

He was a prince.

Tall, sharp-eyed, arrogant—and beautiful.

His name was Kael.

They called him the Flameborn. He could command fire with a flick of his hand. But he was ice when he spoke.

Except to me.

“You’re late again,” Kael had said, smirking as he stood by the crystal balcony. “I’m starting to think you like the punishments.”

“Only if you’re the one delivering them,” I shot back.

His eyes glowed. The way he looked at me made the stars seem dim.

We weren’t allowed to be together. Not by law. Not by bloodline. Not by the Council’s sacred edicts.

But we didn’t care.

Until they found out.

Until they tore him away from me and shackled me to a spell that would erase everything I was.

“You will forget him,” the Council had declared.

“You will crawl the human world. And only when the Veil cracks again will you remember what you’ve lost.”

But I never forgot.

I never stopped waiting.

Present – Sky’s POV

I woke to the sound of glass shattering.

Sam was clutching his head, sweat pouring down his face. His hands glowed—dim, unstable.

“Sam!” I rushed to him. “What’s happening?!”

He looked up—and for the first time, I saw pure terror in his eyes.

“I remember everything,” he gasped.

And then the room caught fire.

Not from a match.

From him.

Golden-orange flames circled his arms, twisting and coiling like snakes, but they didn’t burn me. They wrapped around me, warm and terrifying.

“Sam—breathe—what’s going on?!”

“I wasn’t supposed to feel this again,” he said, trembling. “This magic—it’s waking up. Because of you.”

The flames burst upward.

And I saw it—in the fire.

A face.

The same face from my dream.

Not the masked seer.

Not the woman.

Someone else.

Someone who looked almost like me.