25
The tangled truth
ZARA
The skin on my face burns red and raw from the tears I’ve cried. My chest aches, my throat hoarse from screaming into the void. I’ve thrashed and fought against everything and nothing, my entire body trembling as Kade’s words sink deeper into my soul.
I can’t believe it.
I don’t want to believe it.
I won’t be able to do anything but believe it.
There’s not a single doubt in my mind that Kade told me the truth, or at least what he believes it to be. I know it. I felt it. The cursed ebon chain that connects us tightened its hold on me as he spoke, ensuring I understood the brutality of his honesty. Every word struck like a dagger, carving away at the fragile threads of denial I clung to. My coven betrayed me, even before I broke the sigil . They planned to trade me for power, for position. I was leverage and nothing more, a pawn in agame I didn’t even know I was playing.
“Kitten?”
Kade’s voice rises softly, catching me by surprise. He’s been a silent presence, steady and unyielding, giving me space but withholding kindness. He hasn’t offered one ounce more support than the absolute minimum required. I hate that he’s let me process this on my own, that he’s offered only enough to get me through. It feels calculated, and it’s a potent reminder of who holds the power here.
“What?” I manage, my voice cracked and brittle.
“Did you wish to talk?”
I shake my head and pull away, needing distance. My legs carry me to one of the grand windows lining his chambers. The glass stretches from floor to ceiling, flawless and cold, a stark contrast to the chaos inside me. Through it, the rooftops of the outpost appear uneven and rickety, a sharp juxtaposition to the room’s oppressive luxury. My eyes roam over the jagged skyline, searching for something stable in a world that’s crumbling beneath me.
The room is a masterpiece of understated opulence. Dark mahogany shelves line the walls, crammed with books whose spines gleam under the flickering light of enchanted sconces. A thick rug sprawls across the stone floor, its intricate patterns woven in crimson and gold, softening the edges of the otherwise austere space. The faint scent of aged parchment and cedar lingers in the air, mingling with the sharper tang of Kade’s magic—a metallic bite that sets my teeth on edge. Even the furniture speaks of power: a massive desk carved with arcane symbols, an armchair draped in velvet as dark as midnight, a bed large enough to swallow me whole.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to shield against the room’s oppressive weight.
“We can look for Malric tomorrow,” Kade says after amoment.
I nod, my throat too tight to respond. The sun dips below the horizon, dragging the last of the light with it. Shadows gather in the corners, creeping across the room like living things. We stand in silence as the night cloaks us, the darkness inside me matching the void outside. I’m isolated, cut off from the world I thought I knew. The only person left is Kade—and I don’t know if I can trust him.
The ebon chain tugs at me, its pull insistent and undeniable. It’s muddying everything, twisting my emotions until I can’t tell what’s real. I don’t know if what I feel for Kade is genuine or just a figment of the bond. It’s a leash, binding me to him in ways I never agreed to.
I want it gone.
I want to be free of this chain.
I want to know if our connection is more than a cruel trick of magic.
“Zara?”
I turn at the sharper edge in Kade’s voice. He’s watching me, his head tilted slightly, his dark eyes unreadable. Frustration simmers beneath his calm exterior, mingling with an emotion I can’t quite place. I hate how easily he sees through me, how his gaze seems to strip me bare.
“What is it that you need?” he asks.
I lean against the window, letting the cool glass press into my back.
“Home,” I whisper, the word slipping out before I can stop it.
“That is with me, Zara.” Kade’s expression hardens, though his voice remains infuriatingly calm. “You won’t be safe anywhere else. Even if we break theblood weave, you’ll be hunted. Any other warlock would exploit your power.”
A bitter laugh escapes me. “And you won’t?”
“I’ll give you a choice,” he says, stepping closer. His movements are measured, predatory. “We can make this bearable for you. This doesn’t have to be the nightmare you’re so determined to see it become.”
His knuckles brush down my arm, the touch as light as a whisper. I want to pull away but don’t.
