I looked over at him. His face pale, jaw tight with pain, but his eyes locked onto mine with that same guarded intensity he always wore. Only now, there was something else under it. Fear.
“No,” I said quietly, voice cracking despite myself. “But he’s alive.”
Vespera will pay for this.
“I’m getting you out of here,” I whisper, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
Xarothar's presence ghosted through my mind—a single, sharp warning. I pushed it down. Ronan needed me. If I had to tear this place apart brick by brick, I would. I’d torch every past piece until all that remained was ash before I let him die on this floor.
Boots thundered down the stairwell.
They took their fucking time.
My hands flew up without thinking. A gust of wind burst from my core, slamming the metal door shut with a deafening clang. Shouts rose from the other side, but I didn’t wait—I swept my arm through the air, and ice roared in my wake, racing toward the frame. It devoured the hinges and locked once again, sealing it in a solid sheath of magic-slicked ice.
Unbreakable.
My breath hitched; the world swayed—but I couldn’t stop. I turned and crawled back to Kieran, my limbs trembling like they might give out.
He was watching me. Even through the exhaustion dragging at him, Kieran’s stormy gaze was clear. He pushed himself upright with a quiet grunt, swaying as he moved, and when I reached him, he placed a cold hand over mine.
“He didn’t break,” he groaned, voice wrecked from whatever hell they’d put him through. “Neither of us did.”
His words cut deeper than expected, and more tears slid down my cheeks. They suffered because of me. Because they'd dared to protect me. I let them in. Let them get too close.
This is why I never let anyone in.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to vanish. Instead, I swallowed the sob threatening to rip out of me and shoved the guilt backwhere it belonged—for now. Kieran was still upright, Ronan still breathing. This wasn’t the moment to fall apart.
I lifted my head, my power flickering inside me like dying embers. The ice on the door creaked ominously. It wouldn’t hold forever.
“You look like hell,” Kieran grumped.
I let out a weak, bitter laugh. “Thanks.” I squeezed his hand tighter, resting my forehead against his, drinking in the warmth it gave me from being close to him.
I could feel the price of my magic coursing through me, gnawing at my veins, clawing at my soul. It was draining me.
“The more I use it… the more it kills me,” I whispered, finally admitting it to someone.
His grip tightened on my fingers, steady and fierce. I felt the quick pulse beneath my touch. “You’re lying,”
Worry seeped into every word. I leaned back, pressing my hand against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. He was burning up, and I couldn’t shake the tight twist in my chest. My lips parted, and my body trembled with a helpless, aching need to protect him from it all.
“I’m not… but it’s okay.” I lie, even to myself.
His eyes snapped to mine, looking pissed that I would lie to him. “It’s not fucking okay.” I couldn’t hold his gaze as he snapped at me.
Because he was right. Nothing about this is okay.
A thunderous bang shook the door before I could even react, rattling the entire room. My heart jumped—they were coming.
“It’s time.” I breathed.
“We are getting out of here,” he said, his confidence practically radiating—and God, I could use some of that right about now.
I nodded, letting my resolve harden, but beneath it all, the bitter truth sank in. We’ll get out… just not with me. I forcedmyself upright on trembling legs, ignoring Kieran's piercing stare. Each step was a battle, every breath a knife in my lungs. Still, the fire in my gut wouldn't die, even if my body screamed to give in.
This was it. I was finally taking back what was mine.
