She reached for him.
He stepped back.
She froze, hand halfway to his chest. Her face crumpled. “Your runes were burning. You needed rest—”
“Stopbreakingyourself to fix me. To fixeverything.” His throat was so tight he could hardly speak. “Don’t do it again. Ever. I don’t care if the world is falling. I don’t care if the gods themselves demand it. Youdo notuse that power again.”
“You cannot forbid me from—”
“Yes I can,” he said. “Because I’m not losing you. Not to this.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “But it’s mine, Kailorien. It’s part of me.”
“Stop pretending you understand what you are when none of us do.”
Her hands dropped. “I do understand.”
His ears rang. Blood thundered in his skull. “So, you chose to destroy yourself anyway?”
The silence was a void.
“Auryn, this isn’t courage. It’s self-destruction.”
“I’m just…growing used to it. If I wasn’t meant to use this—why do I have it? Why did you find me in the ice? Why did you release me?”
The words tore out of him. “I was selfish. You were safe in that ice. Taking you from that, pulling you into this world…into war and rifts…was a mistake.”
Mistake.
Mistake.
The word echoed like a slap.
He felt the instant he’d gone too far, the way her face stilled—as though he’d slammed a door between them.
She lifted her chin. “Is thattrulywhat you think?”
“I think,” he snapped, “that one day your recklessness will kill you—and I—” he couldn’t finish the thought.
Her eyes shone, tears unshed, grief laid bare as though he’d ripped off her armor with her skin still attached. “I didn’t know you saw me as a burden.”
“Don’t twist my words,” he growled, but it was too late.
She turned her face away.
He raked both hands through his hair, body trembling from the brutality of what he’d just spoken. The shock in her silence filled the void between them. And he hated himself for it.
He shoved the tent flap aside, stepping into the chill of dawn. The cold slapped him, violent and welcome. He barely made it five steps before a shadow detached from the wagons. Zarrek. Arms crossed like he’d been waiting.
Resh didn’t stop. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.” Zarrek’s voice was even, but his eyes were wary. “That was low. Even for you.”
Resh stopped. Turned.
“You let her do it.”
Zarrek straightened. “She wanted—”
