He remained quiet, eyes intent on his shadows coiling at his feet, gliding over the shimmering ground as if they wanted to reach her again but didn’t dare.
But in the silence, in that stillness, I saw his recognition as if he saw himself in her. The same hunger for control, the same grief at what their power had cost them.
I saw the difference too. Even though Finley had immense, possibly untapped power, she didn’t want to rule. She wanted to protect. Despite her experiences as a youngling, which could have made her bitter and angry, her instinct was to shield and serve.It’s what makes her an exceptional warrior.
For all his divinity, all his infinite years, I wasn’t sure Eiran could understand that. Zaicha certainly didn’t.
“Fine,” she ground out. “Then at least tell me, how can I block her?” Determination laced through each word. “I need to know how to block her so she can’t use my magic to kill others.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, but it wasn’t from fear. It was fury sharpened by grief.
But then her eyes lifted, wide and pleading, the vulnerability there stirring every instinct in me to destroy anyone who threatened her.
But she didn’t aim it at me. It was meant for Eiran, the male she had just learned was her father.
I felt her plea like a blow splitting me in half. Finley didn’t show weakness, not like this, not to anyone. Yet here she stood, stripped bare, letting him see it.
Eiran’s gaze held Finley’s. “Hunger forged Zaicha’s orb. She anchored it to the magic of others, leeching their energy to make the mages more powerful. To block her, you must do the opposite. Anchor your magic in yourself. Bind it to what she cannot touch. Your breath. Your will. Your bond.”
Finley held her hand to her chest, her worried gaze moving across my face before she peered back at Eiran. “Anchor it?” It came out low and uncertain. “To my breath or will or . . . bond. That doesn’t make sense. How can I anchor anything to that?”
When Eiran remained silent, Alastor stepped forward. “Every breath you take is yours alone. No god or orb can take that from you. Every inhale claims the life within you. With each exhale, you choose what you release. If you bind your magic to that rhythm, it answers to nothing else but you.” He paused, his brows pulling together while his fingers twitched at his sides. Another headache was surfacing, probably from forcing his way into the astral realm. “The strongest anchors are not in self. They are in what you will fight until your last breath to protect. Your bond is more than affection. It is carved into your very soul. If you bind your magic to it, for Zaicha to steal it, she will have to tear apart what fate sealed. Even with the orb, she cannot do that.”
“Then how did Teddy and Elias lose their soul-mate bond when they sacrificed their magic?” I asked.
“It was not taken but given freely,” Alastor said. “It was theirs to give and theirs to take back. Even when rejected, the bond lingers because fate will not be ignored. It is why Teddy was able to restore it.”
“While the bond is stronger,” Eiran said, “it binds you to another in ways deeper than a simple soulmate does. To anchoryour magic there is to lace your power to another’s being. If he falters, you falter. If he endures, you endure. The power is unparalleled, but so is the cost.”
Finley’s reply was quiet, but it echoed inside me. “You said you’ve watched me since birth. Did you see me the day Brenton died?”
A muscle beneath Eiran’s eye twitched, another small fracture in his composure. “I did. You didn’t understand it then, only that something inside you was unraveling, as if a part of your soul was dying. I wanted to reach out to let you know it would not last. That I would not permit his death when it would cost you your life as well. I would not have taken him from you.”
Her breath shuddered. “Then you already know. If he falters, so do I.”
Her words struck me. Not with pain but with a devotion so raw it nearly dropped me to my knees. To hear her claim me like that . . . it wrecked me, stitched me back together.
I pulled her into my arms, holding her in desperation and reverence all at once. Still, I needed her closer until her heartbeat thudded against mine. The bond thrummed so fiercely it rattled my bones.
I’d rip the stars from the sky before I let her fall because of me.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
FINLEY
My breath burnedin my lungs, reminding me of what little control I had.
“Again,” Eiran said, tone firm. “Listen to the rhythm of your breath. Magic obeys rhythm. Anchor it.”
His presence felt immovable, yet calming—something, or someone, ancient, yet familiar.
“Your explanation doesn’t make sense,” I said, the lilt in my voice giving away my nerves and frustration.
Because I had to do this. For the dragons in Vistos, for the fae in Niev. For myself, after allowing myself to be manipulated and used. For Brenton, and the future I wanted with him. For Hoshiko and Sama, who didn’t have to stand at my side but chose to.
I clenched my hands, dragging in another breath, trying to force my magic into the cadence he instructed. My chest rose, fell. Rose again. My magic stirred under my skin, restless and refusing to settle. It slipped, hot and sharp, tearing at me from the inside instead of weaving through my breath.
