He tsked. “You can’t bite your tongue or hold your breath either. Keep saying it.”
Blood shrieked in her ears, drowning out the first time she said it. She wasn’t as lucky the second time, couldn’t take back the horror of hearing the words in her own voice.
Worthless. Worthless. It poured out of her like it was all she’d known. She sat in a corner of her mind watching it leave and screamed and screamed. No one could hear her.
And deep down where even he couldn’t touch, something broke.
Blood ran into her mouth from how hard she’d bitten her lips. The pressure in her head was agonizing.Gods, Kadra, this was why you feared forme.
The door opened. “Noceo, I—” Dalvia froze at Sarai on all-fours before averting her gaze.
“Just as well, I think she’s ready to leave.” Noceo’s gaze returned to Sarai. “Stand.”
She was a puppet, going through the motions as he led her outside the manor. Dalvia bit her lip, looking torn as she opened a Bridge. Sarai could have wept upon spotting the marketplace’s familiar, colorful stalls beyond the portal.
“As promised.” Quiet rage still suffused Noceo’s features. “Walk through.”
She complied, a shaky tear tracking down her cheek upon stepping back into the lively space.Thank the Elsar.
“You can remember everything now. I might as well give back those memories. Now,hold still right here, andwatchme until I leave.” A chilling smile spread Noceo’s lips like a blade through flesh. Drawing up the hood of his cloak, he walked to the Guildsmen loitering outside the tavern.
No. Her heartbeat stuttered, froze.
“There you are!” At the corner of her eye, Méherre raced to her. “Gods, I thought your Magus Supreme would have my head!”
Noceo spoke a few words to the Guildsmen. His silver eyes narrowed in amusement.
Time dripped in slow seconds as her eyes shot to Méherre’s. “Run.” She couldn’t move her head. He had ordered her towatch.
She screamed to the market, caring nothing for how mad she sounded. “RUN!”
Méherre followed her eyes and paled, gaze hardening to burning coals before she gestured outward. A portal split the air yards away. The marketgoers stared at it.
“Run through it!Please!” Sarai couldn’t. He’d ordered her to hold still.
Eight blank-faced Guildsmen raised their hands to the sky as one. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a spark flaring overheard.
No.
The air exploded.
And she knew nothing.
How had his brother gone unnoticed?
Kadra downed another glass of wine, splitting his thoughts between dreading Méherre’s return to Bridge him back to Sarai, and how he had missed the resurgence of his godsdamned Clan. Footsteps raced through his atrium before the door to his study flew open.
Kadra raised an inquiring brow at Cato’s disheveled appearance.
“You’ve a visitor.”
Now for the truth. Kadra set down the wineglass, catching the faint tremble to his fingers.Fuck. He rose, mentally going over the halting speech that he’d prepared for Sarai when Cato shook his head.
“It isn’t Méherre.” Avoiding Kadra’s eyes, he stared at the floor, breathing hard. “Come—come outside, Drenevan.”
A spark of unease burned a path through him stronger than the persistent ache in his spine. He followed Cato to where Anek stood by Aoran Tower’s gates, with red-rimmed eyes and a haunted expression.
Red-rimmed eyes.
