Page 63 of The Vespertine Treaty

Then, the break happened.

Cain inhaled too sharply, taking in too much darkness at once. His internal Void must have reached capacity and violently recoiled.

A lash of raw, unadulterated Void energy—the toxic runoff of his consumption—whipped out from his core. It wasn't aimed at me, but I was standing too close. I was his filter, and the pressure was too high.

The invisible wave slammed into me.

It didn't feel like a physical blow, but like cold, liquid frost splashing against my shoulder, soaking instantly through my clothes and into the bone. I cried out; the sound swallowed by the deafening magical turbulence.

Cain reacted instantly, his control snapping. He seized my waist, dragging me backward away from the viewing window.

The next thing I knew, I was slumped against the cold brick wall of the Human Realm safe house entry hall. My shoulder throbbed with a searing agony. I ripped back the fabric of my sleeve: the skin was rapidly darkening, crisscrossed with tiny,crystalline black veins; the blight was physically manifesting, spreading the magical decay he failed to contain.

Cain was instantly on his knees beside me, the heavy plates of his armour clanging against the stone floor. He didn't use his hands on the wound, knowing the Death-Touch would accelerate the magical decay. He simply held his palm an inch above it, pouring a careful, contained pulse of his Void to isolate the contamination, like he was trying to consume it from me.

"Silas," he grated, the word raw and utterly devoid of his usual cold composure. He reached for his Scry Stone, barking coordinates, but then he froze. His eyes darted to me, then to the threshold archway in the corner.

"He cannot cross," Cain hissed to himself. "He is common. The Threshold will kill him."

He looked at my shoulder, watching the black veins inch toward my neck. He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw genuine panic in the monster’s eyes. He stood up abruptly.

"Rhana!" Cain’s voice boomed, summoning the massive panther who prowled out from the shadows of the hallway.The beast moved, huge and terrifying.

"Guard her," Cain commanded, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Do not let her sleep. Do not let her die. If her heart stops…”

He turned to the fox shivering on the floor beside me. "And you, rat. Keep her conscious."

Before I could speak, Cain strode to the Threshold arch. He activated it with a violent pulse of magic, the black veil tearing open. He stepped through and vanished, leaving me alone in the dark with two familiars and the spreading cold in my veins.

“Rat? Did he just call me a rat?”

Poppy’s mental voice wasn't just loud; it was vibrating with the force of a thousand indignities. I watched through blurry eyes as she shook the bars of her brass cage, her little furry body trembling with rage.

“I have tufted ears! I have a distinct, bushy tail! Rats have naked worm-tails! Is he blind as well as emotionally constipated?”

The pain in my shoulder was dragging me down into the dark, but Poppy’s screeching was a sharp, grounding tether.

“Don't you dare close your eyes, Ophelia!”she commanded, sensing my drift.“You have to stay awake! We have to live so I can poop in his helmet! I have to chew through his bootlaces when he returns! Do not die and leave me un-avenged! The audacity! The sheer, unmitigated gall!”

Time lost meaning. The pain in my shoulder was a living thing, chewing on my nerves. Poppy chittered frantically, nipping at my ear to keep me awake, while Rhana paced back and forth, her massive body a warm, terrifying barrier between me and the door.

Just as the darkness began to tunnel my vision, the Threshold roared again.

Cain burst through, dragging a terrified Aenite Healer by the arm. The poor female looked like she had been plucked from her bed, her eyes wide with terror as she took in the horned helm on the table and the dying girl on the floor.

"The shoulder. It's a consumption backlash," Cain commanded, his voice sharp and low. "Use your strongest balm. Reverse the decay."

The Aenite Healer worked quickly, applying a cool, shimmering poultice, her hands glowing with a soft, warm green light that fought the dark veins spreading across my skin. The process was exquisitely painful, a tearing sensation as the healing light battled the intrusive death energy. I bit my lip, refusing to scream.

Once the veins began to recede, Cain dismissed the healer with a curt nod and a heavy bag of coins. He opened the Threshold again, watching her leave with the same impatience of a storm waiting to break.

The moment the gate closed, we were alone.

I lay there, utterly spent, the clean ache of the healing replacing the necrotic cold. My breathing was shallow, my body weak, but my mind was terrifyingly clear. I had just witnessed the absolute truth of my utility.

He did not wait for me to speak. He seized my arm, the uninjured one, and hauled me to my feet, forcing me to stand before him, dizzy and trembling.

He stared down at me, his chest heaving slightly, waiting for a submission that wasn't coming. The silence stretched between us, thick with the scent of pomegranate and antiseptic.