“AS OUR ALLIES. OUR FRIENDS. OUR FAMILY.”
But Rynna hadn’t heard, lost in the rising panic.
“Go!” Her eyes screwed shut as she clawed inward, reaching past the power buried beneath her soul. Past the vampire’s dark infection. Deeper, deeper—to the forbidden well she was never supposed to touch. But it fell through her grasp, slick and mocking, leaving only the ragged edge of panic.
“Fuck!” She tried again, scraping, reaching further than ever before. “I’ll try to open the door for you. Hold them back!”
And something thrummed in answer. The Weaving stirred, faint as the pluck of a string in the marrow of her bones. Once. Twice. A warning note, harsh enough to raise the hairs along her arms.
She knew what it meant—stop, turn back, leave that well untouched.
“No.” She shoved past the alarm. The Rules didn’t matter now. Not if they were going to kill him.
Her chest heaved, lungs straining against the Weaving’s thrum, blaring louder inside her, vibrating through bone and blood in command tostop.
She knew there would be consequences, but she reached harder, teeth bared, willing herself to seize it anyway. She’d burn herself ash if that’s what it took to keep him alive. Fear roared in her skull, grief already bracing for the loss she wasn’t sure she’d survive.
And then—silence.
Warmth pressed in on either side of her face, firm and unyielding. Kaelith’s palms held her still. His touch cut through the frenzy like a blade through tangled thread, breaking the spiral before it consumed her.
“Shhh. Shhhh.” His voice washed warm over her skin, soft where everything else had been jagged.
“Kaelith!” Her body shook, ready to tear the world apart if it meant she could hold him one second longer.
Then, his legs moved, bending around her waist, anchoring her as though he meant to bind her to the earth itself. “It’s okay, Rynna. It’s okay. They just want our help.”
“Our help?” Slowly, her pulse stumbled back from its frantic sprint.
The stomping of feet, the pounding of hands—all of it blurred into distant noise as her fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt. She clung to him, lifting her chin until his eyes caught hers, and the Mistress’s words finally seeped through the ringing in her ears.
“Friends?” The word broke small and high, almost too fragile to belong to her.
Emotion swelled again, but different this time.
A smile flickered across her lips, fell away, then returned in shaky bursts she couldn’t quite hold. “Family?”
Impossible.
“Apparently,” Kaelith whispered, wet laughter hitching in his throat, “the Mistress thinks we are worth keeping around.”
She threw her arms around him, clutching tight, his solid weight too real to be a dream, and yet the knot in her stomach refused to ease. She had been ready—truly ready—to tear open the forbidden power, and though Kaelith had stopped her, she could feel the echo of that choice humming under her skin.
There would be consequences.
Chapter thirteen
“Whatisthisplace,anyway?” Rynna folded her arms across her chest, fingers rubbing up and down against her sleeves. “And why do they want it?” Her mouth went taut before she added, “And who the hell arethey?”
A group of men and women stood before the cave mouth and the massive boulder that sealed it, throwing a harsh shadow across the clearing. She had recognized it instantly—the same place where she and Kaelith had been ambushed. Closer now, with no quarrel simmering between them to cloud her mind, unease crept into her bones. The stone face loomed silent, an empty, endless hole.
She swallowed, trying to ignore the creeping feeling crawling up her spine.
“You are here to defend, not ask questions.” Mira’s tone tried for harsh, but Rynna caught the worry shading the edges. Gone was the familiar red tunic and plain trousers; in their place was fitted leather dyed a deep crimson, banded with bronze seams that caught the sunlight. Plates shielded her chest and shoulders, supple enough to move with her body, but heavy enough to remind anyone she was ready for war.
The wind thinned as it crested the ridge, snapping dry across the mountain face. Noonlight struck hard off the stone, painting the Watch in stark relief. Warriors of the Hearth lined the slope, their stance easy, their eyes not.
Rynna had seen them train before. She knew their skill, the way they moved like a single body. She’d seen fire lick from their palms as naturally as breath, wielded with a fluencythat proved it was in their blood. And after tasting the Mistress’s power in the Heart, she could feel that same essence thrumming through these soldiers, as though each one carried an ember inside.
