Therion doesn’t flinch. His scepticism is obvious in the arch of his brow, his expression utterly unshaken. “I can scent you on each other,” he says evenly. “There’s a connection here, Kael—one that goes beyond mere alliance. You’ve not been this... protective,” he says the word carefully, deliberately, “since Nalya.”
The name lands like a punch to the gut, but I don’t let it show. I bury the reaction, mask it behind cold pragmatism. “She’s essential to our plan, Therion. Without her, we have no plan. I’m protecting an asset.”
Therion’s lips twitch, the faintest trace of amusement breaking through his usually impassive demeanor. “I’ve never protected an asset like that,” he quips, his tone light but laced with a deeper meaning.
“Fuck,” I mutter, unable to hold back the begrudging smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. It fades as quickly as it comes, sobered by the weight of what’s to come.
“We’ll figure it out,” Therion says after a moment, the words offered more as solidarity than assurance. He’s always been my confidant, my anchor—the one person who tempers my darker impulses. The one who never stops fighting by my side.
I rake my hands through my hair, gripping the roots as if the pressure might hold me together. He’s right, of course. He always is. But admitting it out loud would crack open something I’m not ready to face. “I still need to tell her something.”
Therion raises his glass, studying me over the rim before taking a slow sip. “Then tell her half-truths,” he says, his voice calm, almost casual, though the weight of his words presses down like iron. “The smallest ones—but truths, nonetheless. Give her enough to placate her, to keep her from digging too deep. At least until after the compass.”
The compass. The word alone sets my teeth on edge, a reminder of how precarious this plan truly is. My knuckles tighten around the glass. “Any trust we’ve built will be eviscerated by anything I tell her,” I say, my voice low, strained. “She could just as easily burn us to ash.”
“And if you don’t tell her anything, the same is also true,” Therion counters smoothly. His tone remains steady, but his eyes are sharp, cutting through my defenses. “She’s not stupid, Kael. You’ve felt her magic. You’ve seen her light. Do you really think she’ll let this go unanswered? Keep her in the dark too long, and you’ll lose her entirely.”
“Fuck.” The curse slips out in a whisper, the weight of it settling in my chest like lead. No drink can drown the nausea clawing at my gut, and Stars know I’ve tried.
Therion doesn’t press further, letting the silence stretch between us. It’s his way—letting me wrestle with my own thoughts until I unravel. He’s maddeningly good at it.
“She’s going to hate me,” I say finally, the admission cutting raw and jagged through the fragile calm I’ve tried to maintain. “When she finds out—when she learns even the smallest truths—I’ll lose whatever part of her trusts me. Whatever part of her—” I stop short, shaking my head. I can’t say it. Won’t say it.
Therion’s gaze softens, just slightly. “Maybe she will. Maybe she won’t. But if you don’t tell her anything, you’ll never know.”
I glance at him, my throat tightening. “And after the compass? What then?”
“That’s a question for another bottle,” Therion says, lifting his glass in a mock toast before draining it. His casual demeanor doesn’t fool me. I see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tap idly against the table. He’s as uneasy as I am, though he hides it better. “We both know what’s coming after the compass. That’s when everything changes.”
The silence between us stretches, heavy with truths neither of us is willing to voice. I swirl the amber liquid in my glass, its surface rippling like my thoughts.Half-truths. They sound like a solution, butthey feel like betrayal. Of her. Of the fragile trust we’ve built. Of something deeper I can’t bring myself to name.
But Therion is right. He usually is. I don’t have a choice. Not if I want to keep her close. Not if I want to protect what little balance we still have.
With a long, slow breath, I set my glass down and meet his gaze. “What would you tell her?”
Therion leans back, folding his arms across his chest. “What you want her to believe.”
His words sink into me like a blade, sharp and deliberate. I know what he means. I know what I have to do. But the weight of it threatens to crush whatever part of me still hopes this might end differently.
Because deep down, I know it won’t. Regardless of what’s stirring in me—what she’s awakened—nothing will stop me from what I have to do. No matter the cost.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ELYSSARA
The group,except for Kael and Therion, make their way back to the room at the end of the hallway of the inn, which I’ve been informed belongs to Seren and Ronyn. It’s serving as a headquarters for our plans, due to the inordinate amount of books and maps that are lining every inch of the space.Typical Seren.
My body hums with the aftermath of the fight, every nerve vibrating with something dark and primal. I’m not afraid or remorseful—I’m angry. Furious, even. I’m done being the hunted, the one who hides while others dictate my life. The rage burns hotter than the magic in my veins, and before I realize it, light sparks at my fingertips, casting flickering light across the room.
“Easy, El. Let’s not light the whole joint up, eh?” Ronyn’s voice is soft, his hand brushing my arm with a familiarity that cuts through the chaos in my chest. His touch anchors me, pulling me back before the light can consume me—or anyone else.
I force a breath, then another, shoving the light down until it settles into a glowing spark in my chest. My hands tremble as I press them to my sides, the heat fading. Around the room, everyone stares. Ronyn’s gaze is steady, full of belief. Seren smiles, awelighting her face. But Jax and Merrik exchange wary glances, and Finn looks ready to bolt, his hand hovering near the door.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m under control,” I try to assure them, but my tone is shrill and laced with intensity. Jax raises her hands in submission, and backs away until she is, again, leaning against the wall.
Seren rustles through one of the countless papers on her dining table—-clearly never used for its intended purpose—until she finds the one she was looking for. “Ah! Here it is! Okay,” she flashes an excited smile, her mass of golden curls shrouding her face, but she shoves them back and over one shoulder before continuing. “I made a plan. I’m certain this is the exact spot we need to go to for the Astral Compass.”
Kael and Therion stroll in—liquor and glasses in hand, cutting through the room’s tension like a blade.
