34
Not now, not ever
KADE
My room smells of scorched earth and darkness. Zara sleeps fitfully beside me, her body curled into itself as it tries to hold in the fragments of magic still shimmering beneath her skin. Her face is pale, too pale, and the shadows under her eyes are stark against her ashen complexion.
She looks fragile, like an illusion. I remind myself that Zara is anything but delicate. Her breath catches and the way she stutters in her sleep makes my insides clench, over and over, as if I cannot escape her.
I’ve never seen her this drained, this lost.
The blood weave hums faintly between us, its bond always present, always pulling. Her magic sparks like a dangerous live wire, and it isn’t just hers anymore. Mine’s mingling with it, and I feel my power seeping into her, spreading into the darkest corners of her soul. My steadiness isslipping, and the constant control I hold is fraying at the edges, ebbing away like the sea retreating down a beach.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply as I wonder if that tide will rise again. I don’t want to think about what it might mean, but the truth presses in anyway, cold and sharp. She’s taking it. Or maybe the blood weave is. Either way, my power is dwindling, and hers is growing wild. Too wild.
Her body jerks and her lips part in a soundless cry.
“Zara,” I murmur, leaning over her.
She doesn’t wake. Her magic stirs like a flicker of a flame caught in a breeze and the air around us heats unnaturally.
“Control it,” I whisper, more to myself than to her.
She quiets after a moment, her breathing evening out, but the tension doesn’t leave my chest. This isn’t sustainable. Whatever power she’s tapped into, whatever force the blood weave has become, it’s tearing through her. And me. It’s not just the magic that worries me. It’s her. The way she’s starting to lose herself to it. The way she’s starting to overwhelm me.
I slide off the bed, needing space. Needing air. The floorboards creak under my boots as I move to the window, but the chill of the night doesn’t offer me the clarity I seek. My thoughts spiral, dark and unrelenting. Disordered. This was supposed to make us stronger. The blood weave should be our edge, our weapon, our shield. Instead, it’s unraveling us.
Or perhaps just me.
Footsteps sound on the landing, and they’re deliberately unsubtle. I know their beat and recognize their weight, certain the heavy, intentional steps are unmistakable.
I wander to the door, looking back to check on Zara. She’s still guarding herself, even in unconsciousness. Even against me. The blood weave calls again and for a second, I want to stay, to keep watch, but the heavier footsteps call me away asGalen draws closer.
The knock is sharp, deliberate, more a formality than a courtesy. I pull the door shut and my brother stares at me with a look of consternation, his eyes glancing over my shoulder at the girl lying in my bed.
“She’s alive then,” he says, his voice low and sardonic.
“What do you want?” I reply, my tone even with an edge that threatens violence.
Galen steps back and his presence is as heavy as the tension already weighing down the landing. His dark hair is tied back, the sharp lines of his face made starker in the dim light. My brother clicks his joints as he waits, and each crack is a warning he’s in a foul mood.
“I want to know what the fuck you’re doing about that.” He gestures to Zara with a flick of his hand.
I close the door, leaning back against it. “We’re getting married, Galen. We’ll figure the rest out.”
Galen snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Figure the rest out? She’s half-dead, Kade. You don’t look much better. She’s a problem and you shouldn’t have let her happen.”
“Don’t,” I snap, my voice dropping dangerously low.
“Don’t state the fucking obvious?” Galen never backs down, and it was a mistake to bait him. “She’s a fucking parasite, Kade. You can’t hide the fucking blood weave from us. Don’t you think we sense what’s happening to you? To both of you?”
Fuck.
I should have taken more care. I should have warned Zara. We should have spent more of our time and effort into hiding the bond that ties us together, and now it’s too late to undo the damage. The magic twists tighter with every breath, its darkness threading through both of us in a way I can barelycontrol and have to obey. And Galen’s right—anyone with half a sense of magic could feel its taint if they looked close enough.
My jaw tightens, and I push off the door. “This isn’t your fight, Galen.”
“The hell it isn’t!” He steps closer, his movements sharp and full of restrained fury. “You’ve tied yourself to her, and now you’re dragging all of us into this mess. What happens when you can’t control her, Kade? When she consumes your magic?”
