It was beautiful, like stars streaking across the night sky.
Brenton stood beside me, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, sinewy muscles coiled tight. Veins traced along his forearm, pulsing with our magic that he wielded with care. The dim light here made him appear as if he were carved from shadow and strength.
The red threads of my magic twined with his smoke around his wrists.
Eiran’s voice carried like breaking thunder. “You’ve toyed with me long enough.” He grinned. “Pull on my threads.”
Brenton glanced at me, a hint of mischief and challenge in his eyes. “Ready?”
“I still don’t feel the blasted threads,” I muttered, annoyance braiding around each word.
“You don’t have to.” His tone was soft as he stepped closer to me. “Just follow me. We’ve got this.”
His faith nestled its way inside me. When Brenton reached out with our magic, it wasn’t forceful but an extension of himself that slid around mine, and I followed the way his smoke threaded through the drifting astral magic.
“You’re still playing,” Eiran said, his words a scold while his eyes shone with amusement.
But then, a tug. I shivered.
Eiran’s magic flared in response. Ancient and cold and vast. His eyes narrowed, but not in warning. Approval.
“Good.” He pressed his palm against his chest. “I felt that. Again.”
This time, Brenton didn’t lead with any hesitation. He reached deeper, braiding our magic as I continued to follow only a breath behind. Something different thrummed, and when my magic brushed over it, I knew.
“I feel it.” Faint but real.
Brenton’s answering grin was beautiful. “Then let’s do this.”
My smile grew as we tugged together. Magic stretched taut between Eiran and us. A single thread of smoke and death and something far older. Something that hummed in my bones.
The air thinned around us, dipping colder until my breath came out in little puffs of mist, curling and fading into the shimmering dark.
Eiran’s gaze sharpened, and I felt it, like a shift in the current of our threads. He not only pushed us back but pulled on our magic. Testing us.
“Figures you’d play dirty,” Brenton said, his tone filled with humor.
Sweat collected at my forehead, sliding down my temple while I focused on our magic, our bond. When I felt the faintest thread start to pull apart, instinct took over. I bound us even tighter, sealing the crack before it could widen.
Eiran’s mouth twitched with the smallest lift at the corner of his mouth before he dipped his head in approval. The warmth that spread at that single gesture startled me. It wasn’t just that I’d held Brenton and me together, but that Eiran had noticed and acknowledged my tiny feat.
“Keep us together,” Brenton said, pride spilling through his tone. “I want to keep tugging and see what else I can unravel.”
Eiran’s laugh rang through the astral realm, deep and boisterous. It shocked a quiet laugh from me.
We continued. Push, pull, a silent war neither of us intended to lose. Magic stretched and snapped between us like a living thing that refused to yield.
“Let’s try something different.” Eiran lowered himself onto the ground, pushing his cloak back with one fluid movement. His shadows, that had been absent until now, glided around him. One slipped close, brushing against my boot and around my ankle.
I didn’t pull away this time. I hadn’t the last few times he’d done it, because the sensation was cool but now familiar. Safe.
I reeled my magic in, drawing it back inside my chest. Brenton immediately chased it, nipping at the edges of mine. Playful. Flirty. A hint of him that no amount of training could change.
“Brenton, I want you to search for Zaicha,” Eiran said.
The name came like a punch to my gut, and I jolted.
“When you find her,” he continued as if I weren’t suddenly desperate for breath I couldn’t drag in, “tug as you did to me. Finley, keep your magic bound tight around your bond. Do not let her in while Brenton tests her.”
