I feel sick. Poisoned.Cursed.
The witch.I hate her. I hate her, and everything she has done to my head.
She is practically powerless ... yet she has complete and utter power over me.
I throw myself back into my duties, into endless distractions.
And there is more than enough to be distracted by.
There are talks of rebel groups. There are even calls for me to attend this Centennial, and end these curses once and for all.
The dreks ... they killed civilians in the last attack. Dozens, before I could finally close the scar and end them.
I’m exhausted by the time I return to my room. I take my armor off, then stare at the wall. Trying to will myself to find the strength to take a bath.
Then—
I feel her.
My entire body tenses in awareness, all my senses narrowing. She’shere. And.And—
She’s bleeding.
My shadows race across the floor of my room in panic, and it’s been centuries since I haven’t had a hold on them. She makes me lose control. She makes me reckless.
She makes me emotional.
Just over a week prior, I bellowed my hatred of her across my lands, but at the sight of her, like this—
She’s in the middle of my room, gagged. I pull the fabric out in an instant, fear spiking through my bones as I study her chest. She’s been carved like an animal.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have ... I didn’t—I didn’t know where else to go.”
Does she not know she doesn’t just hurt herself when she’s this reckless? That she hurtsme?That she puts the entire world at risk of being burned to ash?
“You are a fool,” I say.
“I am very much aware.”
What happened? Who did this to her? My rage is blinding. I am going to enjoy taking them apart, piece by piece. “Who am I killing tonight?”
She has the nerve to look surprised. “What? No one.”
Not yet. I’ll kill them, but not yet. Not while she is still bleeding this much. She’ll die if I don’t close the wound.
I need her alive to unlock the sword. That’s what I tell myself.That’swhy I feel so panicked, I want to retch.
I study her blood-soaked, torn dress. “I don’t know how you’re still conscious,” I growl. She’s so fragile. “Why won’t you stop bleeding?”
Her healing elixir.
She tells me where it is, and I don’t think I’ve ever portaled this quickly. I’m back in a flash. Instead of letting me do it, letting mehelp her, she rips it from my grip and pours it over her chest without a second thought.
Her scream rakes through my bones, making my shadows lash out, clawing at the floor, as if they too know this is wrong. She shouldn’t be hurt.I should have protected her, somehow.
I find myself wishing I could take that pain away. I’m used to pain. She isn’t. If I could, Iwouldtake it from her.
Instead, I sit here, only able to offer her a roll of gauze, then watch as she ties it herself, with practiced fingers. My hands make fists, thinking about why she might be so practiced. Maybe she’s more familiar with pain than I thought. Fury boils beneath my skin. The blood soaks through the bandages immediately.She bleeds far too much.
