Chapter 27
Savla
Ididn’t expect the night to hit like a hammer. One moment, I was sitting in my workshop trying to carve something—anything—thatwasn’ther face.
The next, a shock of heat pulsed through my chest so violently my knife slipped. The carving hit the floor and I doubled over, one hand pressed hard against my sternum, breath ripped from my lungs.
“What—?” I gasped.
A second pulse followed and then a third. It wasn’t painful exactly. But it was deep. Pulling. Direct. Like someone lighting a candle in my ribcage.
Somethingsparked awake without permission and my pulse stuttered.
“No,” I whispered. “No—no, damn it—stop.”
But it didn’t stop—it only intensified. Warm, bright andunmistakablyhers.
Something was happening. Something thatached for her. Someone—her—had reached for me and my soul wasanswering.
“Shit,” I muttered, stumbling to my feet.
The workshop blurred for a moment as if the air thinned and my knees nearly buckled. I caught myself on the workbench, gripping the edge so hard the wood creaked.This wasn’t like the accidental bond surges and it wasn’t anything like the dream. This was different from everything I’d ever felt before.
This wasdeliberate.It was afocused attempt to reach me.Someone had called my name through magick.Her. Ithadto be her.
“Hanna,” I breathed, shaking.
The bond thrummed in response, and my stomach dropped. I backed away from the bench, shaking my head.
“No, no—don’t do this.Don’t start this.”
The air shifted around me, and light flickered at the corner of the room—faint movements of rhythmic silver.
It was a pulse. Like our heartbeat.Myheartbeat. I pressed my hand against my chest, teeth clenched.
“Stop,” I growled at myself. “Stop reacting. It’s nothing. It’s—it’s not the bond.”
I was lying to myself—telling myself a lie even I could barely swallow. But I clung to it with both hands.
And that was when the pulse hit again—so much stronger this time. I staggered back into the wall, my eyes squeezing shut, praying that it would go away.
For a terrifying moment, I saw her. Not clearly or physically, but the shape of her magick and her presence. It was warm, bright and calling to me.
It was as if her hands were lifting my chin, gently directing my gaze toward her. She was whispering my name. And just likethat, fate was sinking its claws into me.
My breath broke. A sound escaped me I hadn’t made in years—half pain, half longing.
“I can’t do this,” I said aloud, voice low and ragged. “I can’t—”
But the resonance didn’t listen. It just kept humming. As though it recognized me. It wasgreetingme. Like it wasansweringsomething she had awakened. I pressed my forehead against the wall, fists clenched.
“Why now?” My voice cracked. “Why today?”
Because I’d spent the morning trying to forget her. Because my brothers saw right through me. Because I told myself she wasn’t mine—couldn’t be mine.But now her magic was saying otherwise. AndGods, I felt it. Every inch of it.
My breaths came faster. I needed air or distance oranything. An anchor to keep me from falling over the edge of whatever was happening.
I stumbled out of the workshop and onto the rooftop, gripping the railing as the night wind hit me like a slap. But the resonance followed me and there was a faint green glow under my skin.
