“I can give you anything you want,” he murmurs.
“You’ve said that before,” I reply, my tone scathing. His lack of reaction only fuels my anger.
“I realize you are hurting,” he sighs. “I can’t begin to imagine how hard it must be to re-evaluate your entire life and come to terms with a betrayal like the one you’ve discovered. It must be excruciating to know you grieved for witches who’d sold you like you meant nothing. But none of this changes the reality of your position, nor does it give you the right to dismiss what I offer as irrelevant and immaterial.”
I bite my lip to stop it from trembling, hating the weakness I can’t hide. Kade’s eyes narrow slightly, irritation flickering across his face.
“Stop fighting me, Zara.”
I toss my head, defiance flaring despite the ache in my chest.
“Consider what we can become together. Consider how powerful we will be and what we could achieve.” His fingers run down my face and I don’t pull away. “We are not so different, you and I. We both want power and we’ll do anything for it. We’re ruthless, cunning, calculated. Our magic is stronger together than apart.” He leans in and places a gentle kiss on my cheek, and for a second time, I don’t pull away. “Am I really so disgusting that you can’t even stand the thought ofme?”
I turn back to the window, my heart clenching as his words settle over me. My thoughts whirl, chaotic and unsteady, as I struggle to make sense of what I’m feeling. I wish I wasn’t here. I wish this wasn’t happening. But it is, and I can’t change it.
Kade’s right about one thing: the ebon chain makes him inescapable. It makes him inevitable. It makes him almost irresistible. But it also makes him useful. I can use him to get what I want, whatever that may be. When I finally decide what it is that I actually want now.
“I need time,” I say, my voice barely audible.
Kade’s eyes darken. “You don’t have it.”
“So much for giving me anything I want,” I snap, turning back to him.
He steps forward, and I feel the weight of his presence like a physical thing. His magic brushes against mine, probing, testing the edges of my resistance.
“Kitten, you’re a powerful witch who threatened the entire warlock way of life. You broke a sigil that no one else could, and now you’re in an outpost where rules are scarce and ethics scarcer. You ought to be taking any offer of help. Mine is generous. Fucking generous.”
“Why?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
Kade stiffens, his jaw tightening. “Why what, Zara?”
“Why is it so generous?” I tilt my head, mimicking his earlier stance. His irritation ripples through the ebon chain, sharp and bitter. “Why are you giving me a choice? You said you didn’t want to. You’re a member of the Senior Council. So why give me a choice? Why push me to make one when you’ve already got what you want?”
For a moment, the tension in the room is unbearable.Kade’s shoulders rise and fall with a deep, measured breath. He’s working hard to rein himself in, and for some reason, that strikes a chord in me. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raw, laced with emotion.
“Because I don’t want to be your enemy,” he finally says, his voice low, measured, and laced with something raw that sends a chill up my spine. “Because you deserve to have a choice, even if it’s one you don’t think you need. And because if I don’t give you that choice, Zara, I’ll lose the chance to see what we could become together. Not as master and slave. Not as captor and captive. As something closer to equals, whatever that may mean.”
He steps closer, towering over me. The heat of him is a tangible thing, the magnetic pull of the ebon chain dragging me toward him. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.
“You’re the only witch who’s ever made me doubt myself,” he says, his voice soft but unyielding. “And that shocks me as much as it fascinates me.”
My heart stumbles over his words, and I look away, back to the night sky. The stars seem dimmer now, their light swallowed by the shadows pressing in on all sides. I’m adrift, caught between two worlds, with Kade as my only anchor, and I don’t know if I can trust him to hold me.
And yet, I can’t deny the truth: he’s inescapable. Inevitable. And perhaps, just perhaps, the only one who truly understands who I am.
Kade’s words hang in the air, heavy and unrelenting. I turn back to the window, needing to look anywhere but at him. The glass is cool against my palm as I press my hand to it, seeking some grounding in its steadiness. Outside, the jagged rooftops are veiled in darkness, and distant lanterns flicker like dying fireflies. The world feels far away, unreachable. Safe.
Unlike him.
“I don’t know what we could become,” I admit, my voice barely audible, “and I’m not sure I want to find out.”
Kade doesn’t respond immediately. I can feel the weight of his gaze on my back, sharp and assessing. When he finally speaks, his tone is measured, like he’s treading carefully over uneven ground.
“Fear and uncertainty are fair, Zara. But they don’t change the fact that we’re tied together. Fighting it will only make this harder for you.”
“I thought we were going to try to break the blood weave,” I snap, spinning to face him. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To find your tutor and see if he can help?”
He flinches, just barely, but it’s enough to crack the mask he wears so effortlessly. For a brief moment, his expression softens, and I see something raw and unguarded flicker across his face. Regret, maybe. Or guilt.
