Frost coated the inside of Onyx’s lungs, sharp as shattered glass. Every single breath felt like a desperate battle against the freezing air of the subterranean vault. Darkness in this godforsaken cell wasn't his ally anymore; it had become a physical, suffocating weight pressing down on his chest, threatening to crush his ribs. Struggling to sit up, he felt his joints groan like rusty iron gates protesting after centuries of disuse. Shale-colored patches of skin covered his forearms, a brutal reminder of the petrification creeping through his veins. Rejecting Xime’s light had been a choice of pride, a desperate attempt to protect his battered heart from another inevitable betrayal. Now, his body was paying the price. Coldness radiated from his core, far worse than the freezing temperature of the collapsed cavern. Shadows pooled around his fingers, but they didn't obey his silent commands. They flickered, wild and jagged, spitting cold sparks that stung his skin like hornets. Without Xime’s solar energy to balance his element, his own shadow magic was actively devouring him from the inside out. This was elemental withdrawal, a violent, agonizing rejection of his own power. His nerve endings screamed for a single spark of warmth, a single brush of golden, sun-kissed skin. Desperation clawed at his throat, a pathetic, primal urge to crawl through the dark just to feel Xime’s hand in his. Self-loathing filled him, hotter than the frost but not enough to thaw his freezing limbs. He hated how utterly dependent he had become on the very man who represented everything he loathed. He hated that his magic, his lifetime of training, and his survival now hinged on the light wielder's presence. Memories of their last physical contact flashed through his mind—the heat of Xime’s palms against his back, the golden light that had seeped into his skin, pushing away the cold. It had felt like a lifeline, a drug he hadn't known he was addicted to. Now, the sudden deprivation was like being thrown into an arctic sea. Veins across his chest felt like they were filling with dry ice. His heart beat slower, struggling to pump blood through limbs that were turning to literal stone. Petrification crawled up his calves, stiffening his muscles and turning his soft flesh into cold, grey shale. Low, guttural snarls echoed from the far corner of the chamber, cutting through his self-loathing. Yellow eyes ignited in the pitch-black gloom, glowing with a corruptive, violet rot. Twilight-wolves. Three of them slipped out from the crevices of the collapsed stone, their ribs showing through patchy, shadow-soaked fur. Saliva dripped from their jaws, freezing into crystalline icicles before they even hit the stone floor. Onyx forced himself to his feet, his knees cracking loudly in the silence. Summoning his shadow blade took every ounce of his dwindling strength. Dark mist swirled around his right hand, coalescing into a jagged, trembling blade. Spilling back into smoke, the blade left his hand bare and trembling. Groaning, he gripped his hilt with both hands, forcing his will into the metal. Shadowy energy returned, but it was weak, dull, and lacked its usual razor-sharp edge. One of the beasts lunged, a blur of gray fur and yellow teeth. Onyx sidestepped, but his petrified left leg dragged, slow and heavy. Teeth grazed his thigh, ripping through leather and drawing a line of hot, stinging blood. Hissing through his teeth, he brought the dull shadow blade down in a heavy arc. It sliced through the wolf's neck, dissolving the beast into a puddle of foul, black ooze. But the effort drained him, leaving him gasping for breath. Sweat poured down his face, freezing instantly on his cheeks. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, demanding the warmth it had lost. Another wolf sprang from the left, aiming directly for his throat. Onyx threw his forearm up to block, the beast's jaws clamping down on his leather bracer. Pain exploded through his arm as teeth punctured the thick hide and bit deep into his flesh. Shadows flared wildly from his wound, uncontrolled and destructive. They blasted the wolf backward, shattering its ribcage against the stone wall. Onyx fell to his knees, clutching his bleeding arm. Dark magic seeped from his skin, unguided and hungry, threatening to tear his own body apart. His vision blurred, spinning in nauseating circles of gray and black. "Get up," he muttered to himself, his voice a hoarse whisper. Sensing his weakness, the last wolf circled him, its tongue lolling out of its rotting mouth. It crept closer, paws silent on the frost-covered stone. Onyx struggled to raise his sword hand, but his fingers refused to close. His arm felt like a block of solid granite, heavy and unresponsive. Through a narrow crack in the collapsed stone wall behind him, a muffled sound broke the silence. "Onyx!" Familiar and strained, the voice was filled with a frantic desperation that made Onyx’s heart skip a beat. Xime. He was alive, but he wasn't safe. Muffled grunts and the unmistakable sound of tearing flesh echoed through the narrow fissure in the rock. Xime was fighting his own battle on the other side, his voice cracking with exhaustion. "Onyx, answer me! Please!" Hearing his name in that desperate, raw tone shattered something inside Onyx. Betrayal, anger, the map—none of it mattered in the face of Xime’s distress. A fierce, protective instinct flared in his chest, burning hotter than the petrifying cold. He couldn't let Xime die. With a primal roar, Onyx forced his stone-like body to move, driving his dull shadow blade directly into the skull of the lunging wolf. Collapsing instantly, the beast dissolved into harmless black mist. Onyx didn't pause to breathe. He dragged himself toward the wall, pressing his face against the narrow, icy crack. "Xime!" he yelled, his throat raw and bleeding from the effort. "Onyx? Onyx, is that you?" Xime’s voice sounded closer, but it was accompanied by a wet, tearing sound. "Stay back, there are too many of them!" Xime gasped, his breathing shallow and ragged. "Hold on, I'm coming!" Onyx slammed his shoulder against the stone wall, trying to shatter the debris. Sharp pain flared through his petrified joints, but he ignored it, clawing at the rocks until his fingernails cracked and bled. He could hear the heavy, wet thuds of Xime's weapons striking flesh, followed by a grunt of sheer exhaustion. "I can't... I can't hold them off," Xime whispered, his voice trembling with a vulnerability Onyx had never heard before. "Don't you dare give up!" Onyx screamed, punching the stone, his knuckles splitting open. He needed to get to him. Desperately, he needed to feel the burning sun of Xime’s skin, to push back the encroaching gray stone, to save him. Then, a terrifying sound tore through the crack. Onyx hears a sickening wet slash, followed by Xime's voice suddenly cutting off into a choked gasp of pain.

Chapter 16: Separation Anxiety