“Then we die fighting for something that matters.”
Silence fell like a stone.
“There’s more,” Sarnyx said, leaning forward. “Tell them about the connection. About what happens when you and Elle…”
“When we touch, reality bends,” I said bluntly. “Our bond amplifies both our powers. It’s dangerous, unpredictable, and probably our best weapon against Auradelle.”
“It’s also killing you both,” Sarnyx said sharply. “Look at yourself, Kaelren. Have you forgotten who the true ruler of this realm is?”
The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. Frost spread from where I stood, and several council members stepped back.
“That person died in the Heartspire,” I said softly. “When the Bloom rejected me. When Auradelle arranged my parents’ ‘accident.’ When I was exiled for the crime of not being enough.”
“Yet here you are,” Maris observed quietly, “carving marks into your skin, forcing a connection that was always meant to come through her.”
Through the bond, I felt Elle’s emotions shift—joy from the dance mixing with something deeper. She could sense the tension in the room through me.
“I need to go,” I said abruptly.
“The meeting isn’t—”
“The meeting is what it needs to be. You have your orders. Prepare the assault teams. Scout the tunnel entrances. In two weeks, we move on the Heartspire.” I headed for the door, corruption leaving frost in my wake. “And if anyone has a problem with that, find another rebellion to lead.”
I left them to their arguments and fears, drawn by the pull of the bond toward the festival. Toward her.
I found her at the edge of the dancers, flowers blooming around her feet in colors that matched her emotions—deep purple frustration, silver uncertainty, and underneath it all, a thread of gold that pulsed when she saw me. The music drawing us together on the dancefloor without even realizing it.
She took one look at me and frowned. “How bad was it?” she asked without preamble.
“Productive. We have a plan.”
“Which is?”
“Something I’ll tell you about tomorrow. Tonight…” I held out my hand. “Dance with me?”
She looked at my outstretched hand like it might bite. “Is that wise?”
“Probably not. But wisdom hasn’t gotten us very far, has it?”
“Point.” She took my hand, and the familiar electricity sparked between us. “Try not to unmake reality while we’re dancing?”
“I make no promises.”
20
Elle
The dance was everything and nothing like I expected.
Kaelren moved with a grace that shouldn’t have been possible for someone carrying so much darkness. His hand in mine was steady, warm despite the corruption that traced silver-black veins up his neck. The other dancers gave us space, creating a pocket of intimacy in the chaos of celebration.
“You’re a good dancer,” I said, surprised.
“You sound shocked.”
“I just figured brooding rebel leaders were too busy plotting revenge to learn party tricks.”
He spun me, and the world blurred into streams of light. “It’s called the Spiral of Seasons. Each movement represents a different time of year in the realm.”
