For a split second, something dark flickers over his shoulder.A smear of shadow, too thick, too solid to be a trick of the firelight.It pulses once, like it’s alive.
I blink.
It’s gone.
Prophet stands exactly as he was, calm, steady, nothing out of place.With everything going on, marks, bonds, danger piling up, it must’ve been my imagination.Or stress.Or both.
I tear my gaze away and look at Tessa instead.She’s terrified, but she’s also ready.More than ready.She’s been preparing for this since the moment the mark appeared on her shoulder.
“Fine.”The word tastes bitter.“But we do this my way.Maximum protection.Every advantage we can get.”
“Agreed.”Blade is already pulling out radio equipment.“Fury, gather the most capable brothers.Rooster, prep the bikes and check all weapons.Prophet, you’ll ride with me, I want the ritual planned down to the second.”
“When?”Tessa asks.
“Dawn tomorrow.”Blade meets her gaze.“Gives us time to prepare and hits the seal site during optimal conditions.Prophet?”
“Dawn works.The boundary will be thinnest then, weakened by the transition between night and day.”He pauses.“We’ll need time to set up wards, prepare the ritual space.We should leave at midnight.”
“Then we have twelve hours.”Blade claps his hands once.“Let’s make them count.Dismissed.”
The others file out, but Prophet lingers, his eyes on me.
“You know what you need to do,” he says quietly.
“Don’t.”
“The bond between you is strong, but it could be stronger.Strong enough to anchor her when the devourer tries to take her.Strong enough to pull her back if she slips.”His hand grips my shoulder.“Feed from her, Vex.Deepen the connection.Give her every advantage.”
“Feeding from her could kill her.”
“So could facing that creature with half a bond.”He squeezes once, then releases me.“Make the choice while you still have one to make.”
Then he’s gone, and it’s me and Tessa alone in the war room.
She’s studying the map, memorizing the route, the terrain, the location where we’re going to make our stand.Her shoulders are tense, her breathing carefully controlled, and through the bond I feel the war raging inside her.
“Tessa.”
She turns, and the vulnerability in her expression nearly undoes me.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
Three steps, and I have her in my arms.She melts against me, face pressed to my chest, and I feel her shoulders shake with silent sobs she’s been holding back since we left the cabin.
“I know.”
“What if I can’t do this?What if I’m not strong enough?”
“You are.”My hand tangles in her hair, holding her close.“You’ve been strong enough this whole time.You survived the marking, the attacks, the devourer invading your mind.You’re still standing.Still fighting.”
“Because of you.”She pulls back enough to look up at me.“Because of the bond.Because you keep pulling me back.”
“Then I’ll keep pulling.Every single time.As many times as it takes.”
Her hand comes up to my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone.“Prophet told you, didn’t he?About feeding from me.”
“He suggested it.”
