The blood drained from my face. “I’m sorry—” I dragged my jaw up from the floor. “You made me a blade fromnix?” The marble gleamed where it hung unmoving on the wall. Not only beautiful now, but deadly. “You do realize if I cut Callum, or anyone, with it, they could die?”
Wells’ head swung from the dagger, to Callum, back to me. “Were you planning to stab him with it?”
I didn’t answer, not right away. Instead, I moved, crossing to the decorated wall in three strides, ripping the blade free. The weight hummed through my palm.
Mine.
“No plans as of yet.” I slid him a wink over my shoulder.
Callum’s smirk widened, and he drifted closer, laying his hand against my shoulder. “Glad you like it, V.” The look in his eyes, it was affection laced with something rarer that I hadn’t seen in a long while. “I have to head to the palace—” He slipped a folded note into my hand, his fingers hot against my skin. “I’ll see you both in a few days.”
I stared at the door long after it shut behind him.
Nothing came to me about why what he said made me feel that subtle warning. There wasn’t one damning thing I could recall happening this week. And yet, Callum’s unease remained, stitched into the air, refusing to clear.
Restlessness pooled at my feet, shifting me on my toes as I pocketed the parchment. Only then did it hit me, who I was left alone with...
The guilt swelled again, walls looming closer.
Iwantedto let them crush me.
The Viper tested the boundaries of its cage, its cell door creaked open, slow, certain. I didn’t remember unlocking it, but here it was.
Heat crept down my spine, filling my limbs with that familiar tremble. I slammed my eyes shut, feeling the shift already, fangs easing down, darkness spilling into my vision.
It hissed before it said,This is what you truly desire.
But I didn’t let it finish. Iwouldn’t.
I was still in control. Of who I was. Of who I became. I shoved it back, hard, forcing it behind the bars of my mind. The door slammed closed. Locked. For Wells. For Elva.
When I opened my eyes, Wells was watching, like I was a thing barely contained, a celestial rupture he wasn’t sure how long would hold. The silence stuck between us now was brutal.
Callum had been a buffer. His smile, his presence, a shield to hide behind. Now it was only me and Wells.
And the burden of what I had done.
I wanted to apologize. Gods, I wanted to fall to my knees and spill it all. But if I gave voice to it, it would become a conversation. And from the look in his eyes, he didn’t want it spoken either.
His stare cut to the dagger in my grip and his fingers twitched, flexing once against his thigh.
I opened my mouth, searching for words, for anything to break the crushing quiet. Nothing came. The forge seemed to sense it, its warmth swelling, pushing against my skin until the air itself felt complicit.
Speak, Verena.
A laugh broke free in place of words. Harsh and severely misplaced. A jagged little sound that didn’t belong here.
“You’re welcome to stay,” Wells offered. “But I have to get back to work.”
A dismissal, if not subtle. And merciful.
“No, that’s fine.” My relief rushed out too quickly. “I have somewhere to be.” The lie came easily. I sheathed the dagger with deliberate care, my voice faltering over the only truth I could manage. “Thank you, Wells. It’s…” My fingers lingered on the jewel, alive beneath my touch. “It’s perfect.”
It was proof, is what it was.
Of his survival. That he still had his mind, his craft.
Wells almost smiled as he dragged his mask from the table, the edge catching with a hollow cling before it slipped free into his grip. His hands were steady enough to pass, but I caught the slight tremor anyway, saw it for what it was.
