And I felt his pain like it was stitched into my bones.
I sank to the floor, unable to breathe through the hollow ache blooming in my chest.
Block the bond,Kaelith’s voice slid into my mind, low and firm.
With you?I asked, panicked.
No,she said gently.With him.
I hesitated.
But the pain was too real, too raw.
So I listened.
I closed my eyes and walled off the thread that connected us, the one that pulsed like a second heartbeat, and cut it clean.
The silence that followed was immediate.
And suffocating.
For the first time since the Trials, I felt completely, utterly alone.
Chapter
Twelve
The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of baked oats and roasted root vegetables as we sat around the long wooden table, finishing the last of breakfast.
I hadn’t said a word about Zander’s parentage. That wasn’t my story to tell. That washisstorm to weather or to share, if he wanted to.
But the prophecy? That belonged toallof us.
“They call me the destroyer,” I said quietly, pushing my bowl away. “But there’s not just one prophecy. There are several… and each one says something different.”
Naia froze mid-chew. Jax’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. Ferrula sat back slowly, brows drawn tight.
Cordelle, though, just hummed, like something had finally been confirmed.
“I suspected as much,” he murmured, brushing a hand over the weathered edge of the book he’d brought to breakfast. “Some of the references I found don’t match the prophecy I told you about. That one doesn’t call you the destroyer… exactly.”
I leaned forward. “If we could find them, read them, I might understand what I’m meant to do. Or… if I canchoosea path that doesn’t end in our destruction.”
Cordelle’s eyes lit with a rare intensity. “I’ll help you find them.”
Ferrula snorted, but her tone was warm. “You just want an excuse to dig through forgotten libraries.”
“And what better reason than preventing the end of the continent?” he shot back dryly.
I cracked a smile, the tension in my chest easing just a little.
After breakfast, we grabbed our gear and headed toward the Ascension Grounds, the courtyard humming with early morning drills from Crownwatch and Warborn.
None of us expected to seeRemywaiting at the center, arms crossed, his dark-brown hair slicked back, and a devilish glint in his eye.
He wore a Fourth Guild insignia today, polished and official, and somehow that made everything worse.
Zander was off with Crownwatch, offering us only a distant glance before returning to his own command.
