Before he can recover, I close the distance between us in two quick strides and hold my dagger against his throat. “Hello, Alek.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jasce
Aleksander’s eyesglaze over as Jude’s magic pins him to the bed, but I feel no sympathy for this traitor.
“J-Jasce...” His fingers twitch against the blanket, grasping for the mercy I will not give. “You don’t...”
I press the blade harder against his throat. “Save your breath. You lost the right to explain yourself when you bound Annora’s magic to yours.”
He shakes his head, his movements sluggish, as if he’s drowning. “Jasce...”
Something twists in my chest—a faint echo of the brotherhood we once shared. Then, I see Annora’s eyes and the sadness she cannot disguise.
“You used my wife,” I say between quick breaths. “Forced her to kill innocent people.Yourown people.”
His hand shoots up, clamping my wrist with surprising strength. “Brother…”
I wrench away. “I am not your brother anymore.”
I nod at Jude, and he increases his magic, causing Aleksander’s eyes to roll back as his body goes limp.
I clenchmy hands into fists as Reeve uses his shadowfire magic, and he disappears along with Jude and Aleksander.
Every muscle in my body strains to follow, to ensure nothing goes wrong with moving Aleksander. But I force myself to stay put, to trust in their abilities.
My thoughts drift to Annora, as they always do. The way her eyes light up when she sketches. How her fingers curl into her sleeves when she’s nervous. The sound of her counting under her breath to calm herself. Every detail of her is etched into my soul like lines carved in stone.
I’ve commanded armies, ruled cities, faced down enemies without flinching, but nothing has ever made me feel as powerful—or as vulnerable—as loving her.
The minutes crawl by until finally, Reeve reappears next to me and nods.
Time to collect my wife.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Jasce
Reeve’sshadowy flames wrap around us as we move through the camp like ghosts.
Flickering torchlight spills across the camp in writhing scarlet ribbons, but we stay hidden in the shadows, passing row after row of tents, tethered horses, and supply wagons.
My heart pounds when at last we reach Annora’s tent. I duck inside first, followed closely by Reeve, who takes up position near the entrance as I move to where Annora lies curled on her side, her hands tucked beneath her head.
An overwhelming urge to gather her into my arms nearly knocks me over—to shield her from everything and anything that would dare harm her again. More than that, I want to give her back the freedom to just be herself. To sketch without fear, to laugh without restraint, to wield her magic as she chooses.
“Annora, wake up.”
Her dark lashes flutter against her cheeks as her eyes slowly slide open. Recognition hits her fully, and her eyes fly wide, lips parting in a silent gasp. Before she can speak, I sweep her into my arms, crushing her against my chest.
Her fingers curl into the front of my surcoat, gripping the fabric, as though she fears I’ll disappear.
“You’re really here,” she whispers.
“I told you to trust me.” My voice comes out rough, choked with emotion. “I will always come for you. No matter what happens or where you are, I will find you.”
Her fingers tighten against my surcoat. “You have to leave. If they find you here—”
