I kill her or I bring her here. Dead, the bond might snap clean. Or it might take part of my magic … or my life.
Alive, I might be able to figure out what this bond actually is. How to sever it safely, if that’s possible. Or how to use it.
The alternative is leaving her in the hands of people who already suspect she’s been tainted. It’s only a matter of time before they peel her open and find the thread that leads to me. I hate not knowing which path is the one to choose.
“Someone just tried to cut open the princess.”
One of Therin’s eyebrows arches. “What do you want to do about it?”
“I need to bring her here.”
“To our camp? You want to bring ahumanhere? To a place you’ve hidden fae who have spent centuries being tortured by her kind.”
“There’s no other option.”
“There’s always other options. You just don’t like them.”
He’s not wrong. “If she dies there, I don’t know what will happen to me. If she’s captured and questioned, they’ll find us. Either way, we’re exposed in some way.”
“And bringing her here solves that?”
“It buys time for me to understand what I’ve created.”
Therin is quiet for a long moment. His eyes search my face, looking for cracks, the places where the mask might slip. “Vel isn’t going to like it.”
“Vel will have to deal with it. Without knowing exactly what this bond is, I can’t kill her. For all I know, her death might kill me as well.”
He nods. “When do we leave?”
“Tonight. Before whoever attacked her decides a warning wasn’t enough.”
As predicted, Vel is not happy with the plan. But she agrees to stay behind, to protect the hollow if needed. The hollow’s concealment wards part for us. One moment we’re standing inside the veil, the silver shimmer of the wards visible at the edges of my vision. The next, we’re outside, and the forest closes around us.
Therin falls into step beside me, his movements as silent as mine. We’ve done this before—ridden out together, hunted together,killedtogether. Before the Sealing, before centuries stripped away everything but the bone-deep knowledge of how to move through darkness without being seen.
“Do you have enough magic for this?”
“Since the bond returned, my power has been restoring faster.” His lips twitch into a smile. “I think it missed me.”
We stop in a clearing where moonlight pools between the trees. I close my eyes and reach for the power that’s been slowly uncurling inside me since the collar broke.
Summoning my steed used to be as easy as breathing. A thought, a flicker of will, and it would be there, loyal to no one but me. Now it takes effort. The magic resists, sluggish from centuries of suppression, and I have topull?—
Silver light bleeds from my fingers. It pools on the ground, swirling, thickening, taking shape.
Legs first. Long and slender, ending in hooves that gleam like polished bone. Then the body, the arch of a neck, the proudlift of a head. The form builds itself from moonlight, piece by piece, until something stands before me that isn’t a horse, and never was. Its eyes, chips of moonlit ice, meet mine.
Selveryn. My steed.
The edges shimmer faintly where they should be razor-sharp, the form not quite as solid as it once was. But it’shere.
I rest my palm against its neck. The not-flesh is cool against my skin, solid enough to touch but vibrating faintly. The connection hums between us, familiar and welcome.
Still here, that hum says.Still waiting. Still yours.
The rage that lives in my chest shifts, making room for something else. Something I haven’t felt in so long, I almost don’t recognize it.
Peace.
