“I love it,” I said, drinking in every inch of the space.
Rose blushed. “Thank you.” She dropped into the desk chair. “But enough about me. What exactly are we looking for?”
“A way to counteract whatever compulsion Scarven has over Vera,” Nox said immediately. “And potentially others.”
“Do you think this fatesprig stuff you talked about is connected?” Rose asked.
“I’m not sure. It seems to only affect magic itself. From what we saw of our tests, it didn’t have anything to do with controlling people or wiping their minds.”
Rose crossed her arms over her chest. “And what type oftestsdid you run?”
“What, you don’t trust me?” he asked. Rose continued to stare at him, unamused. Nox sighed. “Fine. I had our Alchemist inject me with it.”
I jerked back. “Youwhat?” He had said he was considering it in one of our magical message threads, but I never knew he actually wentthroughwith it. I couldn’t stop myself from scanning him, as if there would be some remnant of the test still riddling his body.
Rose threw her hands in the air. “Seriously? The first rule of Alchemy is ‘Don’t put unknown substances into your body!’”
Nox raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, sounds like a good time to me.”
“Nox,” she said, a warning in her tone. Nox shifted slightly on his feet—almost imperceptible, if you weren’t watching.
But I was always watching. And he was anxious. He often covered his unease with humor—I supposed that was something we had in common.
“It was our last sample, and trying it on a human subject was the only thing we hadn’t done yet,” Nox finally answered, eyes sliding briefly to me. “It wasn’t the wisest decision, but I wasn’t in the best headspace at the moment.”
I moved closer to him on instinct, reaching out a hand to his elbow before hastily pulling away. Was it because ofme? Did he take the fatesprig because he was distracted and worried about me?
The thought made my chest both soften and ache at the same time.
“You’re an idiot,” Rose said. “What did it do?”
He clenched a hand at his side. “It was pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt. There was this…thisfireburning every inch of me.” A silence fell over the chamber as he paused. “It stripped away my magic for about two days. It was like my dragon half was dead. Mutilated.”
I licked my lips. “That’s what it felt like for me too. When he—when I was in the cell. The knife he used. And the cuffs. I think it was fatesprig.”
Nox’s eyes met mine, and the silver slits of his dragon appeared before vanishing just as quickly. My hands twitched with the urge to reach out and touch him. I didn’t know when he’d become my anchor, but it was harder and harder to stop myself from needing him.
Rose’s voice was quiet as she looked at me and said, “I’m sorry for everything you went through. It sounds horrible.”
I adjusted my glasses, trying to brush off the memories. “Yeah, well, I was lucky to get out when I did. Others have gone through much worse.” I couldn’t help but look at Nox again.
Rose’s emerald eyes swept over me. “You care about him. Aboutallof them.”
It wasn’t a question. I simply nodded, more heat rising up my chest. Yes, Icaredabout him. More than I’d let myself admit. I worried when he was gone too long. I felt the emptiness of his absence, sharp and cold, and I craved him when the rest of the world felt too far. I wanted to becloseto him. To be wrapped forever in his fire and safety and steadfastness. I would rather Scarven string me up in his cells again than betray Nox’s trust.
Carewas too small a word.
Leo cleared his throat, and the heavy moment passed. “So, he’s weaponizing the fatesprig by imbuing objects with it,” he said. “Ifhe mass-produces something like this, if he gives his guards or armies?—”
“He already is,” Nox said grimly. “When we invaded his mansion to get Devora back, his guards had weapons covered in it.”
Leo let out a breath. “If he ever decided to go up against the empire, we would be defenseless.”
“Which is why we need to find a way to stop him,” Nox said. “And anyone under his control. Like Vera. You got anything that can help in that handy Grimoire of yours?”
“If I don’t, we’ll make one.” She grabbed the top leather-bound book off the stack and glanced at me. “This is called a Grimoire. Think of it as an Alchemist’s recipe book. This one was my mother’s.” She placed it on the desk and began flipping through pages.
“Maybe we can make something ingestible,” Leo suggested, leaning over her shoulder to read the pages. “Make his sister take it, and it’ll fight off his compulsion.”
