His thumb dragged across the brittle paper, eyes scanning lines as if the ink might change under his stare. When it didn’t, the smallest frown tightened his mouth. “I’ll see if there’s anything else in the archives. Maybe something we missed.”
I exchanged a look with Steele, but neither of us spoke. The air felt heavy, and my focus slipped, following Niz as he glided through the space overhead where he and Ronan were training.
The sharp snap of the book closing pulled my attention back. Noah passed the tome to Steele, his nod toward the door tight and uneasy. “I’m going to grab a few more texts, just in case.” Noah turned and strode out, muttering half-thoughts under his breath as his footsteps faded toward the front of the room.
Silence filled the space he left behind.
I turned to Steele. “Well,” I said, trying to sound calm despite the pulse pounding in my throat, “guess that’s our cue to start trying to make the correct rune.”
His jaw tightened, the muscle flexing once before his gaze met mine. “Kieran,” he said quietly, his voice edged with dread, “I’venevercreated a rune before. Not for anything. Not even a simple one. I’ve only used what’s been created by past Rune Makers.”
The words hit harder than I expected, settling deep in my chest. For a heartbeat, I just stared at him—the Rune Maker bound to me by fate, and the man with a piece of my heart by complete choice.
I smiled, letting my positivity and confidence steady the nerves flashing in his eyes.
“Okay,” I whispered, reaching out to squeeze his hand gently. “We will learn together.”
As the sun sank, the training hall felt heavy, the air thick with burnt skin and the scent of blood.
We’d been at it for hours and nothing we tried worked.
Steele sat across from me, eyes fixed on the open book beside him, jaw locked tight as he flipped the thin rune-drawing dagger between his faintly trembling fingers.
I tightened the cloth around my arm, resisting the urge to reach out and steady him.
“Damn it,” he muttered.
“It’s not your fault,” I said with complete conviction.
It truly wasn’t his fault, but each attempt had ended the same. Every new design which was a hybrid of two runes alreadyestablished in the book failed to spark. My skin sizzled in rejection the moment Steele finished drawing.
The first time, it only stung. By the fifth, it felt like being flayed from the inside out where he drew. Now blood stained my forearm, dripping slowly from where the last surge had ruptured the skin. Steele’s gaze fixed on the crimson line, his expression tightening.
Then he snapped the book shut.
“Enough,” he said sharply before his lips pressed into a thin, frustrated line. “I’m done.”
“It’s not?—”
“I saidenough, Kieran.”
The command hit harder than I expected. Beneath it, I heard what he didn’t say— how fearful he was. I curled my nails into my palm to stop myself reaching for him. Steele had to be with me on this; pain or not, us doing this was essential.
He looked back at the rune blade, disgust and guilt shadowing his face. “Every time I mark you, it hurts you, Princess. If we keep going?—”
“If we stop,” I cut in, “I die anyway. You know the prophecy, Steele.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to carve you open trying to save you.”
The words sliced through the air like a blade.
The other men had been training for hours and during breaks, they drifted over to watch the two of us. Ronan and Niz, who were the closest, slowly made their way over. Ronan spoke up, his tone filled with understanding, “This isn’t on you, Steele. We are all just trying to figure it out as Noah finds more information.”
Hearing that support from Ronan for Steele stole my breath. Once, they’d barely trusted each other enough to share words, let alone a plan or hope. Now, that quiet backing carried moreweight than any promise. It made me realize just how far we’d come as a group.
Steele exhaled, jaw tight as he nodded lightly. “I appreciate that, but this is on me. We just need to figure this shit out.”
My eyes found Bastian, realizing he hadn’t piped in on the conversation, which was entirely unusual.
