He lets that settle. Then—
“And any research we do . . . will be under that guise. This stays between the three of us. We go in quiet. We get what we need. We leave.”
A beat.
The bond between Thane and me stays steady—warm, certain. But something twists in my chest. Because I understand. Ido.
But I also know what this means. Not for the Spiritborn. Forme.
For the girl who grew up in an unknown village, living a small, quiet life. Now the capital,the realm,wants to see me. Not just by a few. Byeveryone.
A symbol. A rallying point. A reminder that the old powers are waking again.
That the Spiritborn has come.
Thane must feel my worry through the bond, because his hand tightens on my knee—grounding me—while Valen continues to speak. A promise:You’re not alone.
The same promise I had just given him. When he shatteredand shared the weight of the curse carried in his blood. When I held him.
But still, fear rises in my throat. Thick with heat. With weight.
What if they look and don’t see a savior?
What if they see a mistake?
What if I fail them?
What if I fail him?
I swallow hard, forcing the thoughts down. Because this isn’t about my fears. This is about Thane. Protecting him. Finding the truth—before it’s too late.
And if stepping into the light is the price of that . . . then I’ll pay it.
Even if it terrifies me. Even if I have to set aside every piece of me that still longs to hide.
Needing something to steel my nerves, I reach for the glass sitting on the table. I lift it, the amber liquid catching the last slant of fading light, and finish the whiskey in one swallow. It burns on the way down. Unforgiving.
But it pulls my thoughts back into the present, anchoring me.
I set the glass back down with a firm clink.
Thane flicks his wrist, and the candles in the sconces around the room flare to life. Soft flames spring up, their light casting long, restless shadows across the stone walls.
The shifting shadows press like a hand against my chest. Makes me think of Thane and of what now stirs in his blood.
And with that thought, the flood of questions I’ve been holding back surges forward.
I rub his back gently, a signal.I need to get up.
He loosens his grip on my leg. His eyes search mine, asking a silent question: will you stay?
I give him a small, reassuring squeeze. Then shift off his lap and return to my chair. I lean forward, elbows resting on my knees, heart pounding against my ribs.
I need to look at him, head-on. I need to ask.
I can feel Valen’s eyes on me as I look at Thane. He watches in silence. But I see it in his face—wariness, exhaustion. All of it carved into the lines of his face, heavy in the slope of his shoulders. He’s worn thin from everything he’s shared tonight.
Gods, we all are.
