She won’t be able to access it.Even in thought, Kelan is grave. She may not forgive us.
I observe the dark swipes that still linger below her eyes. Despite a peaceful sleep, exhaustion remains engraved. She fears her magic. It has only ever brought her pain, and yet it is part of her. A part that helped her survive.
She won’t forgive us,I send quietly.The magic is her safety net, fear or not.
Kelan’s jaw tightens.She’ll be alive to hate us.
Ronyn lands moments later, the rush of his return stirring the cave air. He shifts quickly, eyes already burning with restrained fury.
“They’re circling wider,” he says aloud. “Testing the territory.”
“Then we act now,” Kelan replies.
I swallow hard and nod.
Together, we move with care. Kelan anchors Aura physically with one hand over her heart. Ronyn braces her from the other side, supporting her body. I take her hands in mine, detecting the dim echo of her magic. Like blossoms shifting in the summer breeze, it is beautiful.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, though she cannot hear me.
We guide her power inward, folding it away, deeper, and deeper, into a vault she won’t be able to reach. The magic resists at first, flaring weakly, then settles as our combined power swamps it completely.
This is what we were made for. This is our purpose. Every time we have suppressed magic, it has seemed like a victory. We have celebrated, relieved to fulfil our role to the goddess. This time, as the air stills and Aura sighs calmly in her sleep, her body relaxing as though a great burden has been lifted from her, I draw back slowly, my chest tight.
She’ll wake powerless, I think.
It is how it is supposed to be, Kelan answers.
I look at Aura once more, at the woman who trusted us enough to sleep between us, who searched for our protection at her most vulnerable, and I know with absolute certainty that tears at my heart that this choice will destroy the fragile trust she granted us. This choice will haunt us.
But it was never a choice if it was the only thing that would keep her alive.
We’ll bear the burden of her anger and betrayal together, hoping that Aura will understand. We’ve shackled the only thing she’s ever been able to rely on, so we can protect her from a threat she can’t yet comprehend.
12
AURA
I wake with a start, blinking quickly to take in my surroundings. The cave comes into focus. The fire is low, glowing red rather than gold, as Ronyn feeds it more wood. Daylight spills thin and pale through the cave mouth. I shiver despite the trace of warmth around me. The furs are amazing at keeping out the cold.
Kelan sits nearest, his silver eyes already focused on me, sharp and alert. Darial watches me with clear concern, as though he’s bracing for a blow.
Something is wrong. It isn’t a sound or a smell that alerts me. It’s an absence. A hollow place where warmth should be. Where something alive and restless once curled below my ribs, humming softly like an ember banked but never extinguished, there’s nothing.
I gasp and sit up.
Cold floods me, as though part of me has been scooped out and left exposed. My heart stutters as panic slams into place. I press a hand against my chest.
Nothing answers.
There’s no trace of heat or responding throb of magic.
I clamber backward off the bed, nearly tangling myself in the furs as my feet strike cold stone.
“No,” I whisper.
I stare at my hands, holding them out in front of me, palms up. I concentrate, drawing inward and calling for that familiar warmth, that spark that has never failed me.
Nothing happens.
