She had touched his runeswhile he slept. Had usedthat power.
He jerked upright. She was freezing. Her nightgown offered little protection, and no blanket covered her. His instincts screamed, but his mind went numb. The calm from earlier twisted into dread, into rage, until his own breath burned in his chest.
And finally—finally—he understood.
She wouldalwaysbleed for him. Even in sleep. Even when he didn’t ask. Especially when he didn’t ask.
“You reckless little thing,” he hissed.
Her lips moved, a soundless murmur against his cheek. He didn’t need to hear it to know she wascasting.
Still.
Even now.
Resh gathered her against his chest. Her skin was like ice against his sternum. Dark circles ringed her eyes. He didn’t need to check for the black veining—he already knew what he would find. He swept aside the blanket and stood, his bare feet finding the rugs beneath the cot.
Still, she whispered.
Still, her fingers moved.
Still, somewhere inside her,she was paying a cost he’d never asked for.
As though using this power was a part of her—natural as breathing. Except breathing didn’t lead to death, and using her powerdid.
He crossed the tent and sank to his knees beside a wooden basin on the floor. The water inside was cool, but he added a touch of heat with his palm. He pulled down a cloth hanging there and pressed it to her cheeks, her wrists, her neck—gentle strokes to warm her gradually. To call her back. She stirred when he brought the edge of a pitcher of water to her lips.
“Auryn,” he said, brushing her hair back. “Drink for me. Just a little.”
She obeyed, lips parting enough to accept a few sips. When she sank back against him again, he held her close. The water had been enough to interrupt her cast.
His jaw clenched.
This can’t go on.No more of this. Not ever again. Even if I have to chain her. Even if I have to find some way to seal this power away from her.
She sighed, a soft flutter of breath against his collarbone. Her brow furrowed. And then her eyes opened. Glazed with fatigue.
“…Kailorien?” she rasped, blinking. Her gaze found his, dazed and half-dreaming.
Every part of him stilled. A strange lightness lifted in his chest, warring with the storm still building in his bones. Her hand slid up his bare shoulder, resting against the line of his throat.
“How did you sleep?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Exhausted. Innocent. Hopeful.
His chest heaved once. His hands shook. He rose without a word and started pulling on his boots, his tunic, an overcoat—anything to keep from snapping clean in half and shouting.
She noticed. Felt something was off.
“What’s wrong…?”
“What’swrong?” His voice was low. Dead quiet. A warning. “Auryn, you were casting. All night. Don’t you understand? You’re still healing.”
She sat up, blinking, disoriented. “No, I’m all right—”
“You’renot.” He spun toward her. “You werefreezing. Did you even consider the price? How it would hurt you?”
“I was helping you—”
“Help?” His laugh was hollow, harsh. “You keep doing this. Offering yourself like you’re disposable. Like your life is worth less than mine. And I—” His voice cracked. “I can’t take it. I can’t wake up one day with your body cold beside mine. I won’t.”
