She shivers again, and the motion is like a splinter placed against a break in glass. Her body shifts, the motion tilting that splinter just right. Widening the crack in my armor. All at once, I cannot breathe. Not without her. So, I reach out. I tilt her chin and press my mouth to hers. Desperate. Heated.
A plea for shore within a storm.
An anchor for her grief.
A promise sealed within the dark.
Auryn gasps, then clings to me, answering my prayers, grasping at the anchor of my shoulders, and giving a promise of her own in turn.
Our Bond shudders then shifts. Her faltering rhythm spills into me, and instinct—not thought, not training—shows me how to draw it in, match it,give it back. I inhale her ragged breath and exhale life. Mana surges hot through my veins, rushes into my chest, and I pour it across the seam of our mouths, reckless and raw.
Her body jerks against mine as light spreads beneath her skin—silver answering my azure. Her pulse twines with mine, weaving, sighing. The black veins crawling up her throat retreat, slow at first, then enough to bring a ghost of color back to her cheeks.
She breaks the kiss with a gasp, her hand flying to her chest, eyes wide in the glow of my runes. Her breathing comes easier now, steadier, though her body still trembles.
“Kail…” Her voice shakes. “What—did you just—”
“I don’t know,” I admit. Still holding my shore. A lost ship reluctant to unmoor. “I did it before. At Stonewake.”
“After the Sight…” she says.
“I don’t understand it, but if it keeps you alive, I’ll do it again.”
She exhales. One long, broken breath. But steady. Sure. Matching mine.
“Thank you,” she whispers, pressing her brow to mine, her heartbeat mingling with mine in the dark.
The Veinroads stretch on, winding deeper beneath the earth, a place suspended between worlds. Auryn walks close to my side, holding my arm now in trust and not in fear. Now and again, I stop to check forks in the road.
“How do you know where to go?” she asks.
“The Shields,” I explain. “I can feel them. Also—“ I take her hand and place it over a raised part of the walls. “Can you feel this? Those that traveled here, including myself, marked certain roads. Some are carvings. Some are sigils. There is a safe path through. The other ways are unexplored. Unsafe.”
“Do these roads go deep?”
I nod, though she cannot see it. “We have some records that say they are endless. Many lost their lives trying to prove it.”
Vargrún burns at my nape, and I reach up to scratch at it.
“Does it hurt?” she asks. “The rune.”
“Itches,” I shrug. “Gets worse when I’m close to the Flaeme.”
“What is that? You never did explain.” Her voice falters.
I pause, fixing my gaze on her. “Do you regret it? Choosing this path…”
“No.” Her answer comes clear. Unwavering. My shoulders relax, though I don’t remember tensing them. “Though I wish I could see your face now. Know what you are thinking.”
“That you regret this. Choosing Krystopolis…choosing me.”
Auryn steps closer. “Kail…I told you I would forgive you.”
I search her eyes. “That doesn’t mean I have the right to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.”
My throat tightens. “I’m not sure I can avoid it. Auryn—” I stop. Start again. “Krystopolis is treacherous. Rules. Doctrine. Rituals. It consumes.”
