“Of course. Stolen Shards, dangerous Thorne traitor. A killer. That’s what they’re saying about me, isn’t it? All I am now.” His mouth curved in a hard smile.
Kara swallowed. She wasn’t sure if he meant the words as a shield, or if he truly believed them. Either way, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“I thought they’d send Thorne soldiers. I never imagined it would be you.” His gaze lingered, searching her face. “I’d have tied me up too,” he added quietly.
“I didn’t,” Kara said quickly, the words escaping her. They sounded defensive. Pathetic, even to her own ears.
His jaw tightened. “You didn’t?”
Kara shook her head imperceptibly.
“Then who?” he demanded.
“Henry,” she answered, her voice small.
“But you let him.”
He wasn’t asking. He already knew. And the truth of it was a wall between them.
“So that’s how it is. Brought down by a healer girl,” he scoffed. “I should have known better than to trust you.”
He shook his head, his expression growing cold. Exactly like she’d imagined. Only far, far worse. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if that could protect her from it.
“Now what?” he asked, icily. “You’ll take me for execution? March me to the noose? Or the pyre? Maybe the good little heir will even light it herself.”
Kara flinched. It wasn’t just his words that did it. Beneath the cold, detached façade she heard pain. The fear of what awaited him. Her mind filled with the unwanted images she’d shoved away. Him being sentenced. Dragged away. Rope pulled tight around his neck or... firelight on his skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block them out.
No,of course not.
I can’t let you die.
Her lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come. How could she say that to him? After what she’d done? He wouldn’t believe it.
When she opened her eyes again, he was still staring. Watching her reaction. Waiting for her to answer. But her heart felt like it was in herthroat, the guilt consuming her. His expression darkened when he realised she wasn’t going to speak to him. Finally, he turned away like he couldn’t bear to see her face anymore.
What did he see now when he looked at her?
A weapon in the hands of the Council. A liar. The one who was taking him to be killed. He only remembered her putting him to sleep, that much was clear. He didn’t know she’d been inside his mind. That she knew his reasons. Her hands twitched at her sides with the urge to reach for him.
He doesn’t know. Not yet.
The thought started quiet, like a whisper, an endless refrain in her head.
Let him go.
But it swelled, and started to scream at her. Relentless. Until she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
I have to let him go.
Her breath came faster. The Council’s orders pounded at the edges of her mind, the memory of Henry’s voice, the devastation Sebastian had caused.
This was treason.
This was madness.
If she didn’t untie him soon... Henry would return and she’d lose her chance. But if she let him go, there would be no going back. She gazed at Sebastian, wrists bound, powerless in front of her. His head was bowed now, shoulders tensed and drawn tight. Every inch of him spoke of mistrust, of secrecy. A man who would do whatever it takes. People had died because of what he had done. But now she’d seen his mind, seen what he believed was the truth. He hadn’t taken the Shards for power or greed. He’d taken them to stop something far worse. Draknor’s invasion. The Arcanth itself had called to him. But what if removing the Shards was the very thing that summoned the Drakens?
The Council had been warned about Draknor too – she’d overheard them – but they certainly didn’t seem willing to face it.
