“Leave us, Maelsar,” the Issaraeth ordered the other male. He shuffled away from me and hopped down, shaking the cart in the process.
I used the ends of my sleeves to dry my tears.
“Sylaira.” The way the Issaraeth spoke my name was so tender, so caring, that I wanted nothing more than to bite him again.
Howdarehe treat me like a prisoner one moment and his mate the next.
“Look at me.”
I refused, my attention firmly on my lap. My nails dug into my palms as deep-rooted anger grew thorns inside me.
He exhaled, long and slow. “I found virelthorn in your pack originally. I knew what the herb was for. I guess I never thought to check your bag again after I flew you to Stadur.”
He cleared his throat, hand disappearing from my field of vision. I risked a peek up, finding him massaging the front of his neck.
“I wondered why you hadn’t Seen anything in the weeks we’ve been together. Someone with your power…that would be impossible. Even glimmers. Now I understand.”
I loathed the concern etched into his frown.
“My visions are…horrific.” I shuddered at the mere memory of the one that had shown me him. “They disturb me so greatly I am usually inconsolable for days after. My parents sought help for me once my power manifested just after my first century.”
The Issaraeth sat back on his heels, brows tugged together and forming a deep crease. “Your power manifested that young?”
I nodded, hot tears burning my eyes. My mate reached for me when one fell. I jerked away before he could touch me.
“I suppose I deserve that,” he muttered, retreating. He eased off to the side, then rocked back onto his buttocks. Draping his arms over his knees, he stared at his bloody, healing hand like it was something that had acted of its own accord.
A minute passed before he spoke again. “When I thought you were going to end your life, I was consumed with panic like I’ve never known. And not because I have a duty to deliver you to Iaoth.” He rubbed a palm over his jaw, sighing. “I hope after the last few days, you realize I care. It’s not just the bond for me.”
How badly I wanted to believe him. It was utterly pathetic.
“I’m your obligation,” I said, the word bitter. But did I want to be anything else? Something more? Especially after what he’d just done.
“You’re far more than that.” His voice was whisper-quiet, like if he’d spoken it any louder, the Goddess herself would have descended from the sky and cursed him. “You may not fight with your fist or magic, but you have battled me at every turn. For far too long, everyone I hunted has cowered at my feet, but you…”
His throat bobbed like he was swallowing glass.
“You challenge me. Wreck me. Make me feel alive again. And it’s not just your storm. It’s the strength you use as a shield and the softness you bury behind it. I see the parts of you the rest of the world will never earn. And to me, that is sacred.”
His validation unfurled something velvety and dangerous deep in my soul.
“Prove you choose me, then,” I whispered, the demand fracturing out of me. “Get me more virelthorn. Don’t force me to See. I’d rather die than have another vision.” He’d never been in my head, to glimpse the seeds of what the Goddess had planted stored in the dark recesses.
Even to myself, I kept them locked and buried, never to surface again.
Destruction. Decay. Death.
The three headed beast roared, the force shoving the future to the forefront of my mind.
I squeezed my eyes shut and banished them away again.
There was no hope for keeping my power at bay. If the Issaraeth sourced more of the herb to suppress my visions, it would be defying everything he’d been for centuries. The weapon forged for killing, its edge permanently dulled. I was everything the Korona wanted—needed—to win the war against the Demons.
But I didn’t care.
One of us had to break.
It wasn’t going to be me.
