You two were close.
He loved you. Did you love him back?
But when she speaks, it’s not at all what I expect.
“You care for the Dark Commander.”
I freeze.
Her words aren’t accusing—they justare.
When I don’t answer, she continues. “It was his name—Zev—you were calling in your drugged sleep. And when you saw his condition this morning … well, your face spoke for you.”
I scrub a hand over my damning face.
“It’s—it’s complicated.”
She hums but doesn’t press further. “You should eat. Keep your reserves high. It can be disorienting after a massive power sharing.”
Vy’s right. I’ve felt a strange sense of dizziness all day that I don’t remember from the first time Zev channeled into me. Maybe because he shared so much more this time—because I tricked him into it.
I sit on my thin mattress, only a foot of space between us, munching on the dried meat she hands me. “Vy…” I start, brows knitting together. She seems quite knowledgeable about power sharing and its effects. “Have you power shared before?”
She blanches, her spine going rigid.
“Yes.” Her voice is so soft, it’s almost lost in the scant space between our cots. “But not by choice.”
Tides drag me into uncharted waters. My blood runs cold.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, because what else can I say?
She shrugs, like the only way she can keep going is to pretend it doesn’t matter. “It was years ago. I was stationed by the border. That night, I was alone in the healing tent, cleaning up. Two waterwielders entered—I had healed them earlier that day.” A broken, humorless laugh wrenches from her throat. “I thought they had injured themselves again. One of them held me down while the other channeled his power into me. Not a lot. But it was enough.” Her glistening blue eyes rise to meet mine.
“Then they just had to wait.”
Her words pierce my heart like serrated shards of ice.
No wonder power sharing is forbidden.
Tides, drown those men. Let their bodies bloat, faces turn ashen. Let them be torn limb from limb by ravenous sharks, their remains scattered in the vast oceans.
“I’m so sorry, Vy,” I whisper. “Did you—”
She nods quickly. “I reported them. Sorka was the general at the camp … he was very kind. Understanding. He believed me even when those men denied it. They said I waswilling.” She spits the word like a curse, and her hands fist the sheets again. “We can’t execute wielders, as you know—too valuable. But he put them on the front lines. He told me himself when they’d been killed a month later.”
I hope their deaths were painful.
Foolishly, I hope it was Zev who killed them.
I open my mouth, more comforting words poised on my tongue, when there’s movement outside the tent. Frantic thudding of boots, muffled shouts.
Then, his booming voice echoes—deep, commanding, and familiar enough to freeze my blood.
Father has arrived.
Chapter Sixty
Mytidesdamnedheartbeatsin my throat as I exit the tent on shaky legs like a newborn reindeer. Warriors crowd the clearing, craning their necks to see their king, a wall of leather and muscle and reverence.
