38
HARPER
The forest is unnervingly quiet after Liam wakes, too quiet, as if the trees themselves are holding their breath. All of us hover in that fragile space between awe and dread, replaying Ares’s casual remark over and over.Second time’s the charm.He had said it with the same effort one might use to comment on the weather, as though delivering Liam back into life had never been in question.
But the truth sits heavy between us: Liam’s heart beats because Ares demanded it to.
Ares and Sebastian shoulder Liam between them, each step careful, deliberate. Liam’s feet drag through the underbrush, his hands loosely gripping their shoulders as though he doesn’t fully understand how his body works anymore. The confusion clouds his eyes, memories disjointed, circling only the minutes before everything went wrong. Behind us, Poppy frees whatever creatures she can find, moving quickly, wanting no part of this forest now that death has touched it.
Ares adjusts Liam’s weight again, breath catching in his throat. “If your father didn’t know where we were before, he does now.”
Exhaustion bleeds into his voice, a subtle tremor beneath the practiced nonchalance. His eyelids flutter, too heavy, as though each blink challenges whatever strength he has left.
Impulsively, my hand finds his arm. His muscles tense beneath my fingers, and in the dimming light he glances down at me as if debating whether he can spare the energy to respond.
“What did you mean,” I ask quietly, “by second time’s the charm?”
Sebastian’s jaw tightens immediately, grinding something vicious behind clenched teeth.
Ares exhales once. “We don’t have time to stand here and dissect my phrasing. Your father is already trying to track us. I used blood magic...yourblood magic. And I'm not a Shadeborne. That kind of spell hits every Shadeborne tied to his power like a beacon.” He jerks his arm away, not cruelly but out of sheer necessity, resuming his pace beside Sebastian. “What I did might as well have lit the sky on fire for him.”
His steps falter once, recovery quick but not quick enough to hide the cost bleeding through his veins.
I fall back, letting him and Sebastian carry Liam forward. Sebastian throws Ares daggered glances every few strides, thinly veiled resentment bristling between them. Behind them, I reach out, brushing my fingertips against Theo’s hand. He latches onto my arm without hesitation, leaning into me with the weight of someone who has lived through too many emotions in too short a time.
My voice slips out before I can think better of it. “What did he mean by it…?”
Theo squeezes my arm gently, guiding me closer.
“Liam is alive,” he whispers, voice tight with grief and gratitude entwined. “Whatever the cost, however steep...it’s worth it.”
I want to agree. I want to let his certainty anchor me. But a knot forms in the pit of my stomach. Ares said he had already paid the price. But there are alwaystaxeswith Shadeborne magic. And taxes often fall where the world least expects them.
Theo’s voice breaks through my spiral. “That magic he used… it came from your family?”
My gaze drops to the darkened trail beneath our feet. “Yes. Anyone who carries my father’s blood can wield it. Anyone bound to him.” Ares, starved and bruised, flashes through my mind, years of obedience, years of survival under my father’s thumb. “He must have done something unforgivable to earn even a fraction of it.”
Theo hesitates, almost afraid of the answer. “Harper… canyoudo what he did?”
Before the weight of his question can settle, Ares speaks from ahead of us, voice rough, breath uneven, but unmistakably sharp.
“She doesn’t need a wand.”
He doesn’t slow or look back. “That’s why he wants her. She can wield blood magic in its rawest form.”
Sebastian stiffens beside him.
Poppy stumbles a step.
Theo grips my arm tighter.
And Liam, weak but breathing, lifts his head between them, confusion softening his features.
The truth hangs in the air like a storm about to break.
The outlineof the Vireldan viaduct rises through the thinning trees like the ribcage of some ancient creature carved into the cliffside. Its long, arched bridge spans the narrow gorge beside the castle, stone glistening with the evening’s damp chill. Theo moves ahead, his wand tapping lightly along the stone as he finds the path. He pauses only when the rhythm of footsteps behind him shifts, when Sebastian and Ares fall abruptly silent.
Poppy waits at the viaduct’s threshold. Her eyes widen at the state of us: blood-streaked, ash-dusted, bruised in ways that suggest more than a simple scuffle. Liam groans as a sharp breath escapes him, the pain still working its waythrough nerves newly reclaimed by life. Ares pauses as well, faint and pale beneath the caked blood. His gaze flicks to Poppy, and he adjusts Liam’s arm off his own shoulder, slinging it over hers with practiced care.
