If Kara’s hurt, I’ll bring this city down on their heads.
Veyra led him to a row of black-stone houses, stopping in front of one near the end. Candlelight flickered in the window and smoke curled from its chimney. Sebastian frowned. That wasn’t what he’d expected.
Veyra pushed the door open. “Go on. She’s inside, but sleeping.”
And then Veyra was gone. Sebastian stepped into warmth. The hearth glowed low, Fatàn magic glimmering around it. He scoffed. The shield was the least they could do. That would never make up for them being the reason she was terrified of flames in the first place. There was food on the table too, the bread half-eaten. And on the bed lay a sleeping Kara. She was okay. His legs nearly gave out as he drank in the sight of her. Her dark hair was damp, loose from her braid, falling across the pillow.
She’s so beautiful.
She looked as though the last month had been erased, like she’d never bled or burned or broken. So peaceful. He wanted to go to her but–
Don’t wake her, Thorne.
So instead he looked to the wash basin, saw a pile of clothes – a fresh tunic, trousers, boots. His own arms were streaked with dirt and grime, his knuckles split and bloodied. He should wash too. It was the least he could do. Sebastian leaned his sword against the wall, dropped the Shard satchel on the table, and moved to the basin. He dunked his hands into the water as quietly as he could and scrubbed hard at his face. It stung like a bastard.
Fucking hells.
The water seeped into the open wounds on his hands – but the cold chased away the last of the fire in him. Water streamed from his hair and ran down his chest as he straightened, so he stripped off his cloak and tunic, leaving only his trousers. He caught sight of himself in the small mirror propped beside the basin and his gaze dropped to his ribs. Where a jagged scar had once been. Where by rights more should be, after everything in Vallenna City.
Nothing.
He touched the smooth skin, almost disbelieving. Her magic. Undeniable proof her hand had been there, saving his life. He looked up, meeting his own gaze in the reflection. He was harder-edged than he remembered. Older. His face showing lines of exhaustion, fury, loss. His eyes still showed the scars that his skin no longer held. Except, he noticed, a small mark beneath his eye. From the Earth trial. He didn’t know she’d left that one. But even with that, he didn’t fully recognise the man staring back at him.
I don’t deserve her. I never will.
The thought came unbidden, but painful in its clarity. That’s what all this had really been about, hadn’t it? Not Fatàn. Not whether Kara’s feelings were real or manufactured.
It’s me.
He didn’t believe she should choose him.
Kara was extraordinary. So inherently good. Full of light and compassion. Everything he wasn’t. He carried a darkness in him. Deeper than he wanted to admit. How much he’d enjoyed killing Cade – the satisfaction he felt watching the life drain from him – had reminded him of that.
And it was poisoning her.
Before him, she’d followed the path laid out for her. Predictable, maybe, but safe. Now she’d taken a life. Was a fugitive wanted for execution. She’d lost everything.
Because of me.
His mind flashed with her face after killing that soldier. To savehim. The shock in her eyes, the way her hands shook. She carried that now. He knew better than most how killing changed you. Even if it needed to be done. He looked back at her – asleep, peaceful – and something broke inside him.
Her life would have been better if she’d never met me.
And yet he was sure that if he asked – before what happened tonight – Kara Hale would have offered him her soul. She hadn’t been horrified by the thought, as she should have been. He’d seen it on her face. Considering it. Looking... willing.
Well, she had been.
Until he opened his mouth and ruined everything.
Now she probably saw him for exactly what he was.
No. Stop it.
And Gods, he wanted it. Of course he did. A way to claim her as his? Completely, irrevocably? He wanted it more than anything. Wantedtheir souls bound so tightly that no one – not Fatàn, not the Council, not even his own doubt – could tear them apart ever again. But wanting something didn’t make it right. How could he risk ruining her soul when he’d already ruined everything else?
I won’t tie her fate to mine.
He threw himself back into washing with more vigour than necessary, water sloshing over the sides of the basin, until finally, he was clean. When he turned back to the bed he was surprised to find Kara watching him, bleary-eyed and half asleep.
