“The Sokâr is considered to be the Resh’Agar’s counterpart. Some call her his consort, though such unions don’t exist within the Doctrine.”
“Consort?” she tested the word. A flicker of thought passed behind her eyes—curious, resolute.
“And does the Sokâr help with the…rites you mentioned?”
Her voice softened, but her gaze speared through him.
“Could I help you carry the burden?”
The question struck like a bell in his chest—pure, jarring. His breath caught. For a moment, he said nothing.
She had no idea what she was asking.
And yet—shedid.
Their gazes held. A battle wills. Hers reaching for something greater than anything she could grasp and his pulling back, afraid to break her. But his body disobeyed his will. He thumbed the curve of her cheek, tugged her braid over her shoulder.
“Auryn…”
Her name left him on a shuddering breath. A word touched by awe and warning both.
“You don’t know what the burden is.”
She didn’t flinch. “Then show me.”
Void help him. She meant it.
She meant it.
He turned his gaze to the fire. The embers whispered and crackled—like his restraint, his resolve—fading to ash every time she offered herself without regret.
You can take her as your Sokâr—Zarrek’s words haunted him.Don’t pretend you don’t want to.
Zarrek was right.
Always.
But Resh wasn’t ready to face what it meant to bind her to him in such a way. He wasn’t ready to surrender as Thessia told him he must. For claiming Auryn as his Sokâr would mean forging an unbreakable bond. One that might hurt her. One that might entrap her.
“Not yet,” he said at last, voice unsteady. “You’re still healing. And there are parts of me…” He swallowed. “Parts of me that even I don’t want to touch. Parts corrupted and stained.”
A long silence passed between them.
“I am not afraid of the dark,” she whispered. “Only of losing you to it.”
He brought her closer, brushing his lips to the crown of her head. Her hand reached up to fiddle with his earring.
“Has there ever been a Sokâr named before?”
He shook his head. “No.Never.”
“And if I become this—if I take this title—I can go with you? To Krystopolis?”
He sighed. “It’s much more complicated than that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand, and I don’t have the words to explain it.”
She reached up. Smoothed a finger on the bridge of his nose. “The thunder is heavy on your brow again.”
“You call it down,” he smiled. “Too often.”
