Because Vega wasnotleaving Iegorus. Cade’s death over a stupid rock to bring her sister back wasn’t something her brain could even conceive. The moment it tried, she zapped it into oblivion.
“Theoretically.” Stress lines returned to Stellan’s forehead. “Maybe we can figure out another way. He might not be able to do everything you remember, but he’s still powerful. It might not be necessary to—”
“Itiswhat’s necessary.” Pausing, Bridget sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyes closed from a wave of disgust. The words sounded soVega. Hadn’t sheused the same excuse so many times?This is different, she told herself. She was trying to learn from her mistakes. This was their one shot at a do-over.
Taking a deep breath, she continued, “This whole time I’ve been thinking things will work out because how could they not? I love him. We found each other. We beat the odds… But it’s not going to be enough. It wasn't the last time.”
Last time, she’d so blindly believed in a happy ending, in beingright, she’d inadvertently walked right into Vega’s plans, without a thought to the consequences. She’d almost doomed them all. “What we did is buy ourselves enough time to realize that,” Bridget finished, her voice barely a whisper.
Mouth turned down in a grim line, Stellan processed her words for a long time. Eventually, he sighed. The sound was heavy with the past. “The only instances that I know of the bond being broken is through the Tuathan’s death.”
When Bridget flinched, Stellan held up a calming hand, continuing, “That’s obviously not an option. If the bond is going to be broken, it’s going to have to come from him.”
“How?”
Bridget knew the answer before the terrifying question left her mouth. She’d have to do something to make it waver. Something that would make him subconsciously pull back on it. She’d have to hurt him.
For a split second, she wanted to fall to her knees and scream that she couldn’t. But she tried to smother the twisting in her gut with logic. He needed the entirety of his Tuathan abilities.
And she couldn’t risk him dying if Vega suddenly decided to kill her again.
Eventually, Bridget choked out, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Entire body on the verge from collapsing from the inevitable torture she was about to force on it, Bridget turned to flee the room. She needed timealone to process how it was going to be possible. How she was going to get through this and still manage to look him and Nylah in the eyes.
Before she made it to the throne room’s double doors, Stellan’s deep voice rattled her bones. “No matter what you do, he’s not going to accept it. I don’t think he’ll ever let go of you enough that the bond can be severed.”
That was exactly what she was afraid of.
“He’s going to have to.”
For years, she’d watched everyone around her give up so much to the war… to fight Vega. Towin.
It was about time for her to do the same.
Chapter twenty-eight
Bridget picked at the apple in her hand. She knew she should take a bite. It had been hours since she’d eaten. Even more since she’d slept. With a frustrated sigh, she threw the fruit down the hallway. She’d watched the night fade into morning as she tried to fade the slicing pain in her chest. Nothing had worked. Instead, she decided to torture herself more by tracking down the painting of her, Cade, and Vega. It was still exactly where she’d stumbled upon it with Cade the first time, right outside the southern garden.
Whoever created it, clearly had never met them. They looked nothing like themselves and Vega never actually ripped out her heart. The thought gave her shivers. Still, she couldn’t help but stare at it in hopes it would give her some sort of answers for what she should do next. Faint morning light highlighted the dark-haired woman in the middle. She was regal and cold.
Okay, maybe some features were right.
“What are you planning?” Bridget murmured.
It was cowardice to ask the painting instead of Vega herself. Bridget knew if she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, her sister would probably popin, all too willing to talk. However, Bridget was willing to bet there was an extremely small chance the answers she would receive would actually be the truth.
Seconds later, she caught Cade in the corner of her eye. She didn’t look at him, opting to keep her gaze glued to the painting instead. But the closer he came, the more her hands trembled. Even though she’d pondered what to do all night and had even convinced herself she was ready, one glimpse of him, of the warmth in his eyes, had every certainty unraveling.
Bridget kept her arms crossed tightly and forced herself not to move until he reached her. When he finally did, she felt the weight of his gaze shift from her, to the painting, and back again. After a beat, his arm slipped around her waist as he tucked her into his side
Cade kissed the top of her head, his voice muffled against her hair. “You look like you’re obsessing.”
“I feel like I’m obsessing.”
For a moment, Bridget leaned into Cade and let herself savor his warmth. Keeping her arms crossed, she craned her neck to look at him. For someone she’d left sleeping in bed, he looked almost as tired as she felt. There was a hint of purple under his eyes and his thick hair was wavier than usual. At least he was in regular clothes. She was still wearing the shorts and old Yankees shirt she’d pretended to go to bed in.
As if reading her thoughts, Cade tugged on the fraying hem of her shirt. “You should get some rest.” His golden eyes cut to the apple at the end of the marble hallway. “Or eat something. It’s a shame someone just let a perfectly good apple roll right into a spider’s web.”
