Before she could stop it, tears stung the corners of her eyes. “The Solutus, the Pale Madness…they’re important, but they’re steps to something larger. I can’t stop. I can’t take the stairs one at a time. The Council needs to know I’m capable. Needs to see it. Needs tofeelit. Otherwise, how can I even speak on the Shields? How can I pose theories when they still think I’m just a pretty decoration on the city’s banners?”
She leaned against him, her palms warm on either side of his face.I said I would save you, and I meant it. I will.
And I told youthat you already have, starlight.His Bond-voice was low and soft, his eyes lightening from deep indigo to aquamarine.Every day. Every moment.
It’s not enough. Until I tear the Companions’ painted claws away from you…until you’re free to breathe…until Vargrún is just a memory—we keep going.
When he hesitated, Auryn stepped back and away. His hand snapped out as though he wanted to catch her wrist, but he stopped just short. Like there was a palpable wall between them.
Something turned over in her chest.
Like a fluttering feather in her lungs.
For a moment, shefelthim through the Bond.
His mana.
His anger.
His worry.
His regret.
And then silence again, as though a curtain had been drawn.
She gave him a small smile then turned to Lu’ma and reached into the satchel she was holding. From within, Auryn pulled out three tomes packed with notes, parchment, and page markers.
“Look here,” she said. “Kailorien,look.”
With obvious reluctance, he glanced at the pages.
Stopped.
His eyes went wide.
“Auryn…”
“Yes. It’s exactly what you think it is. I’ve been researching your Runesgram. Not just Vargrún. All of the runes of the Resh’Agar.”
As she flipped through the tomes, her thoughts started running well ahead of her lips. She told him everything she’d uncovered. How she’dspent months in the Umbral Archives searching, even bribing some of the scribes for access to some of restricted areas.
She didnotmention that one of the tomes hadn’t come from the Archives at all. It had appeared in their room one morning, wrapped in worn velvet with only a single note tucked inside. ‘Use it well, ilphara.’
“The ley of the full schematic isn’t something I can come up with based on these books alone. I’ve gone as far as I can with theory. Now I need—”
His fingers reached out. She turned. Held her breath as he grasped a piece of loose fabric on her shoulder and smoothed it between his index finger and thumb. The edges were frayed. She’d worn this gown several times for processions, and it did need mending.
More heat suffused her cheeks—shame, this time.How does he always notice the smallest things?
She’d worn her best regalia today, and though she did have more gowns than six months prior, there was no doubt her wardrobe was lacking. She’d never paid much attention to it. Never needed to.
“Is that what you’ve been spending your Gleams on? Not gowns. Not oils and Lustrals. But this?”
Auryn cleared her throat. “Luxuries won’t buy us passage to freedom. Nor will they help me understand how to help you.”
His hand withdrew, his addicting warmth with it. He took a deep breath. Tired. Frustrated. “What am I going to do with you, sweetfire?”
He sounded so genuinely exhausted and lost that she couldn’t help but bite her lip.
