“A pine marten,” I repeat. “And she’s your…pet?”
“Bryn lives here with me, but I think she’d take offense to being called a pet.” He chuckles, and the unexpected sound sends my pulse racing.
Ignoring it, I say, “She didn’t make those footprints, though.”
“If someone were still here, Bryn would already have her claws in them.” He gestures at my scraped boots.
“Point taken.” I scan the room, uneasy. “What do you think they were after?”
“They wanted what I keep hidden in my chest.”
My gaze flicks to the corner. The chest is marred by deep gouges around its seams, but three heavy locks remain unbroken. Dark droplets stain the floor around it, like something stopped the intruder before they got their hands on whatever lies within. Something with claws. The pine marten purrs, vibrating with satisfaction.
Taliesin kneels and scratches Bryn beneath the chin. He whispers something to her, something that sounds an awful lot like, “What a good girl you are.”
I stare, flummoxed. The man who shatters flesh and bone with a single flick of his wrist…has a heart of tree sap for apine marten, of all creatures.
Old tales claim pine martens guard the secrets of the borderlands, fleeing from anyone who carries a sword. They bite when offended, claw viciously when threatened, but would go to the ends of the earth for those they favor. Seeing Taliesin kneeling here, cooing over Bryn…that alone reveals a softness no one would expect. Certainly not me.
But then I remember how I got here. He can be as kind as he wants to his pet, but that doesn’t change the fact he dragged me into his cursed tower in chains.
“What do you have in your trunk?” I ask in a flat voice.
He tenses, glancing up at me. “That’s not something I’m willing to share with a stranger.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “So, you’ve decided to abandon that whole story about me visiting you in your dreams for years, have you?”
“The woman in my dreams would never let the Order control her. And she’d certainly never look at a tapestry like it’s an abomination.” He stands, his hands hanging heavily by his side.“The woman in my dreams has a mind of her own. So perhaps you were right. She’s not you.”
A rush of irritation prickles my skin. “Don’t you dare insinuate I’m some kind of puppet. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
He flinches, jaw tight, like I’ve struck him with my words. “I—”
“You think I follow blindly? That I bend to the Order without question?” I take a step closer, letting my sudden fury fill the space between us. “Do you have any idea how many things I’ve done, the choices I’ve made, just to survive?”
He looks at me then—really looks—and the tension in his shoulders softens, just a fraction. “If you don’t follow them blindly, then why are you here?”
I laugh bitterly. “Here? I’mherebecause they gave me no other choice. Because they want to control me. Because they threatened the only person in the world who cares I exist.” My hands clench at my sides, nails biting into my palms. “So tell me, does that make me a puppet, or just… a person trying to survive in a world that doesn’t give her a choice?”
The words spill out of me before I even realize it. They’ve been trapped behind my ribs for so long it feels like my chest might break. Taliesin doesn’t look away. His icy, impenetrable gaze focuses on me, chiselling at the walls I’ve built around my truth.
“I…I can’t stand their rules,” I whisper, continuing despite the horror I feel at my confession. “I hate that they make me use my magic, even though it takes a piece of me every time I do.”
There. I’ve said too much. Squeezing my hands into fists, I pace to the small window. Rain lashes the glass, the frame rattling loud enough to drown out the erratic pounding of my heart. I’ve never felt so lost in my life—so torn over what I should be doing. Why am I even saying all this?
The Order keeps the world safe. I fully believe in their cause.
And I owe them everything. They took me in when I had nothing, gifting me with their magic. It doesn’t eat away my soul like my own does. They keep me fed, clothed, and Seren even brought me into their inner circle when most others look at me with open disgust. But it’s true they control me. They’ve sent me on mission after mission, never accepting refusal. They know how indebted I am, and theyuseit.
Then there’s Osian. I close my eyes.
He needs me.
“There is a way out, Swynwraig,” Taliesin says from behind me.
I sigh, and that familiar ache returns to my chest, the one that feels like I’m walling off my truth so no one can ever reach it, not even me. “There’s no way out. It’s not just about me.”
A long pause follows. “Is it your partner, Osian? Have they done something to him?”
