~Zaire~

As soon as they were both inside, Zaire removed their shrouds, and for a second, he just stared at her, drinking in the sight of her unharmed shell. I won't let anything happen to you . . .

"Zaire, there's going to be a rebellion."

Her voice was so small and timid, and he wanted to hold her and assure her that she was safe, as long as she was by his side. But would it be true? If their blood was meant to revive each other, the threads of fate that bound them surely knew that there would be a time where it would have to be done. Injury was guaranteed, in that case. Instead of responding, he gazed at her Mark, and the single shadow that wound around her arm, his stomach clenching tightly. He could think of nothing but his need for her to remain soft, gentle, and innocent, through his unhindered protection. He forced himself to turn away and remove the shroud from the seam, as images flashed in his mind of them abandoning the Dark Realm, hiding in the mortal world until the war was over. It was a sick fantasy, and a future that mocked him with its impossibility. He cursed the Oracle silently, as he stepped aside to give his mate a moment to process what he had hidden from her, in the middle of his living room. A way out of Faerie.

~Dessa~

It almost looked like Zaire's claw tore through the fabric of space and time, creating a strange portal. But no, she could clearly see that he was removing a shroud, much like he had removed from their bodies a minute earlier. A shroud that was concealing . . .

"Is that . . . a way to the other side?" Dessa gaped with open shock.

He gazed at her with anguish in his mismatched eyes, and Dessa felt a numbness settling over her. He had hidden this from her, a door that would take her back. Should she feel angry? She couldn't feel anything as she stared into the jagged, abyssal opening. The energy radiated off of the dense magic even from across the room, and it looked like a wobbling slice of deep space, a stretch of nebulous void. Even if he hadn't obscured it, she would have never had the guts to touch it, let alone step through it. There was really no point in hiding it from her.

"This is a seam in the Veil," Zaire murmured, his gaze lowering to the floor in front of her feet, confirming her assumption.

When she said nothing, his arm lifted a few inches, as if he had meant to offer his hand to her, but he dropped it just as quickly, appearing to be conflicted. Dessa was hollow inside, but she walked forward until she was standing beside him. There was no time to be upset, and she didn't have it in her, anyway. They needed to leave, before everything went to shit. She wordlessly slipped her hand in his, and though she could feel his eyes scanning her blank expression, she kept her gaze fixed on the seam. In her periphery, she could see his lips part, like he wanted to say something, but then he closed them, and he set his jaw, thinking better of it. He stepped through the portal, and tugged her along with him.

The second that she was fully enveloped inside the void, her apathy shattered. She felt the form of her being tested, stretched and compressed by an outside force. She was only emotion, then, only thought. It was like the opposite of the black - there was no peace in this limbo. She was being churned and chewed up by the unforgiving maw of the universe, and her mind was elastic, wound end-over-end like taffy being pulled. The pressure of the cloying galaxy-like netherworld threatened to crush her into a diamond, and just when she thought that she would surely break from the agony of it, they were on the other side.

Tears poured out of her then, and Zaire's hands were stroking her back, her arms, her hair, as he whispered something over and over that she couldn't hope to discern over the sounds of her sobs. She hadn't been broken. She was still in one piece. She felt warm sunlight on her skin for the first time, in what felt like years. The bright orange of it bled through her eyelids, and she cried even harder. A moment of sunshine, after all the darkness. Once more, she felt undeserving. The warmth of it was enthralling, nurturing, and too forgiving. God, she missed that. When she finally stopped sobbing, she dared to open her eyes, and the light was blinding, but she refused to close them.

Zaire was gazing at her, his expression dripping with concern, and his hands cradled her face. Dessa swallowed hard and took a step back, causing his hands to fall from her. She glanced around through squinted eyes, realizing that they were standing in an alleyway, and they weren't even in direct sunlight. It somehow felt like she had been, after all that time surrounded by the deepest darkness imaginable, save for the black of false death. Without taking a moment to reassure Zaire that her "sanity" was still intact, or bothering to say a single word at all, she bolted toward the rays of sunshine on the sidewalk, only a few feet away.

As soon as she stepped into the light, she closed her stinging eyes and sighed wistfully. It was like God, mother nature, or some other benevolent force, was embracing her, pushing away the cold, and filling her with an unconditional love. She held her arms out at her sides, wishing she could peel her stupid dress off and feel the warmth on every inch of her skin.

~Zaire~

https://youtu.be/uz8SVmCWhqs

"Breathe," Zaire repeated like a prayer as he tried to console after her first time crossing the Veil. His hands were nearly trembling as he attempted to comfort her. When they passed through, he could taste how torturous the experience had been for her. When she finally opened her beautiful amber eyes, she shirked away from his touch, scrutinizing her surroundings. Then, without warning, she dashed toward the opening of the alleyway, and for a heart-wrenching moment, he thought that she was desperate to get away from him. Had she just been biding her time until the moment that she was allowed to return to the mortal world?

No, as soon as her bare feet hit the sidewalk, she halted. The immensity of her relief mirrored his own, in that moment. She just wanted to bask in the sunlight. Zaire forced himself to breathe, and donned his glamour, before joining her. He had never craved the sunshine. He was born from darkness, but she wasn't. It suddenly seemed foolish to hope that she would abandon her world, in favor of his. He could never offer her a replacement for the Sun. He could feel how it reinvigorated her spirit, how it gave her something that he would never be able to give. The revelation crushed him.

Her serene smile taunted his bruised ego, displaying just how inadequate he was. She needs to stay. I have to let her go. Zaire balked, shaking his head at himself. Fuck that! She's mine. I will stay on this side. He wanted to groan, as his conscience was fighting its own war. The Dark Realm will fall without me. But I can't ask her to come back with me, I can't expect her to fight for a world that is not her own. He stared at that peaceful smile that was driving him insane. She deserves peace, safety, freedom. How can I deny her those things? His own sanity was wearing thin. Talon will know what to do. We have to move. Every second counts.

"Dessa."

Her name on his tongue felt wrong this time, breaking her out of her trance. Her lashes fluttered open, and she immediately took notice of his glamour, her smile dissolving into a frown.

"We don't have much time to spare," he murmured remorsefully.

~Dessa~

Zaire's glamour was more solid on this side of the Veil, yet she could still see through it. He was the man in leather gloves again, only his hands were bare. It was so strange, now, to perceive fingernails instead of claws. Flesh-toned fingertips, instead of inky black. His hair a more natural dark shade, instead of the color of midnight. His matching eyes were less piercing, but still threatened her with a magnetic pull, luring her into the depths of his soul. She reached out and stroked the stubble on his jaw, but her gaze snagged on her forearm. As soon as she touched him, her Mark and shadow appeared to transform into a caduceus tattoo, like his glamour had bled onto her to some degree, masking those features from mortal perception.

Much like his magic guise, she could still see through it, but it frustrated her. In only a short amount of time, they had become a part of her that she couldn't imagine herself without. She stifled a scoff, snatched her hand back and nodded curtly at him. Zaire breezed past her with a pained expression, and she followed him. She recognized that they were only yards away from The Den. How convenient  that the seam in Zaire's living room opened up so close to the establishment. As they neared the entrance, Dessa noticed that her dress had shifted into something more typical for common streetwear, and she had the illusion of shoes on her feet, as did Zaire.

He held the door open for her, and her heart skipped a beat, in spite of herself. She wanted to duck her head as she walked in, but instead, she lifted her chin a notch in defiance. She refused to let his chivalry weaken her knees. Of course, when they waltzed into the foyer, Lola was at the podium. Dessa instantly glared at the woman, an image of Zaire drinking her  blood slashing through her mind, and filling her with fury. Before she realized what was happening, her shadow shot towards the hostess like a spear, but with inhuman speed, Zaire was standing between Dessa and Lola, and his only-slightly-visible wings swatted her shadow away.

Dessa's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she wrested the shadow back to her arm under Zaire's expression of warning. She would have to learn to control her emotions, and her shadow, if she hoped to avoid becoming a murderer. Zaire's lip twitched as if he wanted to smirk, and she scowled at him for being amused by what she had almost let her shadow do, her cheeks burning even hotter. But she hurried to school her expression, knowing that he had  warned her about this very thing.

"D-Dessa, you're back!" Lola called out, her voice wavering slightly. "And Zane - Mr. Talon has been expecting you."

Zane??  Dessa shot a withering look at Zaire. How many aliases did he really need? My God! Zaire chuckled at her reaction, and she seethed. She guessed that it made sense that he would have a more common name to go with his faux-human form, but surmising that didn't make her any less annoyed.

"We will see ourselves to his office, Lola," Zaire did his best to subdue himself to say.

"A-alright," Lola nodded, and Dessa couldn't stop herself from flicking another glare over her shoulder at the hostess as they made their way down the hallway. Lola had never acted so shy and nervous in front of Dessa. That bitch better not have been flustered over seeing my mate.

Lola flinched, her almond eyes widening a fraction at Dessa's uncharacteristic attitude, and her shadow wriggled rambunctiously.

"Easy, little doll," Zaire chastised her, and though he was a step or two in front of her, she could hear   the teasing smile in his voice.

"I'm fine!" Dessa snapped, a little too quickly.

Mr. Talon's door opened just as the two of them stood in front of it, and suddenly, all of Dessa's volatile emotions fizzled, replaced with a mixture of anxiety, horror, and curiosity. What would his true form look like?

He stood before them, and with her new ability to see through glamours, she could finally see him for what he truly was. A beautiful nightmare, not unlike her mate. He was even more strikingly handsome. His already too-blue eyes glowed like stars as his features shifted into a regal, welcoming smile. His ears were pointed like an elf. His once pure-white locks had a strange, almost silvery shimmer to them, and of course, his fingers were tipped with the longest talons  that she had ever seen on a Fae. They were probably three inches long, serrated, and instead of being black like Zaire's and most every monster she had encountered in her dreams, they were a foreboding blood-red color. Dessa gulped and willed herself to focus on the glamour instead, so she could compose herself with the aid of the appearance that was more familiar. She had adored this man, had been so grateful to him, he had also rescued her from death's door by giving her a job, and he had been a monstrous creature all along.

She shuddered as she suddenly recalled the first words that he had directly said to her:

"Don't fret, dear. I don't bite."