“Scarily,” Lars adds. “Now that he’s resorting to physically harming you.” My vision blurs, and tears well when Lars’ voice cracks over the last few words.
Varic storms ahead to rest his forearms over the back of a chair. His shoulders sag as his hair falls over his brow. He releases a breath and seems to sink into himself.
My heart kicks with the need to go to him, feeling a strong tug on that invisible thread wound around our hearts, luring me in. Pulsing with the need to give up on sensibility and do what my soul longs for most.
This sensation is more than some urge. My eyes scan the space between our bodies, and I try to determine how many strides it would take to close the distance. I decide it doesn’t matter, and step forward when Varic’s voice cuts through the silence.
“The Emperor recognizes he is losing control of you.” His tone is knowing, and I freeze in place to hear the rest of what he has to say. “Everything I’ve learned after living this with my parents—every sign of what is to come spells danger for Tasch. And I cannot allow—” His voice cracks, and he straightens, while the emotions shifting rapidly behind his irises pull the string around my chest so tightly that I can scarcely draw breath.
“I know what it means once they go for your throat.” His eyes contain years’ worth of pain before he looks away. “I’ve seen it. And I can promise you, it is nothing good. Their mistreatment only escalates, and quickly, the moment that line is crossed.”
He turns back to me, and we lock eyes. “Once he grabbed you?—”
I startle when he moves around the chair, then settle when the heat of his body warms the side of my own.
“What were you going to say?” I ask just above a whisper.
“It took everything in me not to kill him.” Varic’s tone is solemn as he drops his forehead to rest over my temple. “It’s time, Tasch. It’s time to get you out. Before it’s too late. Please.”
I rear back, and my stomach twists with his impossibly bright brown irises taking on a brilliance from the sun rays shining in through the window.
“I can’t.” The words scrape their way up my throat.
He curves around to face me and rests his forehead on mine. Soothing my nerves with the contact—standing so close I can count every one of his lashes. My pulse throbs so I can scarcely hear a thing. While I know the risk, I stay in this precarious position, breathing in this moment which feels even more precious since it will end any second.
“Tasch,” Fray says. “Varic is right. There is no other option.”
Varic straightens, and we turn as one to face Fray, whose moss green eyes hold such sincere, heart-wrenching concern for my safety.
“I can’t,” I croak.
“We will make sure the contingencies His Majesty claims to have in place can never be acted upon,” Lars says.
“Don’t.” I stare back at him. “Don’t promise something you cannot control.”
A smirk rises up one side of his face. “You underestimate us.”
“I—How can you find the time, or the ability to coordinate such a plan? If you’re not with me, you’re training. If you’re not training, you’re bathing. Otherwise, you’re just as trapped as I am. You’re not even allowed to sleep!” I practically scream.
Every emotion dredged up from this conversation is overwhelming. My whole body vibrates with all that has been pent up in my system as my muscles shudder, and my knees feel weakened.
“Tasch!” Varic’s voice is muffled, as if he’s yelling from behind a wall, separating us.
Malin’s magic forms a purple blanket to catch me before slowly lowering me to the floor without injury.
“Shit!” Fray seems just as far away as Varic.
“Godsdammit,” Lars’ voice cuts through, clearer now.
“Come on, Tasch,” Varic pleads. “Stay with us.”
Cirrin’s pale blue magic swirls around me, obscuring all else.
Strong arms circle my ribs and pull my slumped form against a familiar pine-scented chest. Rough hands take hold of mine, with Lars’ thumbs rubbing circles in the center of each of my palms.
“Tasch, can you open your eyes?” Varic asks, his voice so close and clear.
“Hmm…”
