I dug my fingernails into the mound of my palm, trying to hold back the torrent of power that fought the meager restraints within me.
“Koryn.” Garrick’s voice cut through the fog of fear, the thick beat of my own blood in my ears, the weight of the ice forming in my chest.
“I am fine.”I am fine. I am fine.
But I wasn’t. Frost spread across the stone, then thickened into a layer of ice. The temperature dropped.
I could not do it. I would be doomed, just like Nimra. I could not sacrifice Kyrelle, not after all of these centuries, all of these mistakes.
Power flowed through me, the ice spreading. Garrick cursed but remained at my side, even though I knew the ice must be touching him now, too.
Xyta sat up in their chair suddenly. Their eyes speared across the arena, searching out the source of that power, finding me.
“Shit,” Garrick cursed again.
But instead of doing the smart thing, which would have been to put as much distance between us as possible, he moved closer. He did not even flinch from the ice as it cracked beneath and around and over him.
His dark clothing was coated in a thin layer of frost. But when he pressed himself against me, so that his thigh ran parallel to mine, he was all heat.
He lifted my hand, slipping his fingers between mine and urging my fist to unclench. I was so surprised, so uncomprehending, that I did not even protest.
He pressed his palm flat against mine, the warmth of that huge expanse melting the burst of frost that coated my skin. His fingers intertwined with my own, then curled around to press into the back of my hand. He enveloped me in his warmth. And slowly, ever so slowly, like a limb waking up after the blood flow is suddenly restored, my power receded. The ice around us melted, yielding to the unnatural heat of Xyta’s arena.
Xyta, whose eyes were still upon me even as my power ebbed.
Garrick’s hand tightened over mine and it felt like more than just the protection of our Lifebind. It felt like safety.
Xyta’s posture eased. On another face, their smile might have been called soft. But on Xyta is sent a shiver down my spine.They were going to call my name next, I knew it. This time, it was my hand tightening around Garrick’s, my mouth whispering a prayer to the Dark God, begging for a stay of execution that would last only minutes.
But just as suddenly as Xyta had found me, their gaze shifted away.
“Nash,” they said.
The last vestiges of frosty power melted in my veins. My power was still there, humming through my body, but it did not try to rise up and overtake me. The warmth that flowed steadily into me from Garrick’s hand allowed me to hold my power in a place of neutrality, a place I’d never quite found before.
The shock of that must have been what delayed the realization.
But as Nash took his seat and Xyta began speaking, Garrick’s hand squeezed mine, and that was when the reality of my current situation began to take shape.
Garrick the Red was holding my hand.
My power was under my control.
And in a matter of minutes, Xyta was going to ask for the one thing I could not sacrifice. Cold shot through me, but the warmth of Garrick’s hand around mine met it, warmed it, shaped it into something less dangerous.
I stared at our joined hands in shock. How was that possible? How?—
Garrick’s eyes met mine. We were so close, the patches of clover green inside of the blue were visible. How many people had Garrick the Red, legendary, ruthless bounty hunter, ever allowed close enough to see that detail?
“What are you afraid of, Koryn?”
I did not ask how he knew I was afraid. I’d shown him with my inability to control my power. But I could not quite bring myself to answer his question, at least not directly.
“Why would Garrick the Red attempt the Seven Gates?” It was the question that had haunted my dreams, the one that kept me from trusting him fully. Or at least, as far as I had the capacity to trust anyone.
“Why would a witch?” he countered.
It was a sloppy retort, but I’d wanted him to ask, because I’d wanted to answer. I wanted some sort of solution to the impossible situation that my repeatedly terrible choices had gotten me into. I could not walk away from the gates, or Kyrelle would die and eventually, so would I. Nor could I sacrifice Kyrelle or my coven to Xyta.
