Page 118 of Season Warriors & Wolves

She stood and put down a piece of paper with heavy craft written in Borsich. “I will tattoo that on him—a dream veil. Along with his summon of dark magic, he will be able to create a physical dome which will serve to control Snow and contain Aurora. I doubt we can subject their minds to another dream veil, not unless it is cast by an Elder Crafter, but we can trap them inside one physically, by tricking their mind into thinking they cannot leave it. Once Aurora is convinced she cannot possibly get out of it, Kilian will drain her magic and Snow will make sure to keep her busy enough not to worry why her mind is playing up on her.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Mal said, snatching the paper and going through it. “How do you know it will work?”

“Because I’ve tested it,” I said. “I can contain Snow and Vas fell into one of my traps some time ago.”

“Huh.” My brother did not seem convinced, but remained among us and even helped translate a few bits.

Nia looked outside the massive library door, at the setting sun lowering under the Moor Sea. “Alaric is going to kill us.”

Thora shot up. “Hells. Dinner.”

One by one, the library emptied until it was my brother and the two Crafters.

Before we exited along, I stepped before Mal and he dropped his head back, sighing, knowing what I was about to say. “We’ve not had this talk.” He had to be made strictly aware he was not to toy with Thora.

“No need, brother, I have no intentions of sorts.”

“Then let her be.”

It was then his dark eyes met mine. “You do not understand.”

“Make me understand.”

“I will not have her in my arms crying over some man.”

“Why would she come cry in your arms?”

“That is between me and her.”

“Have you been drinking again?”

He halted again. “Do you want me to apologise or stop? Make your intentions clear, daddy Kilian.”

“I want to know why. To understand. To at least understand. Just something. Give me one thing. I beg. Is it my fault? At least tell me it is my fault even if you do not know whose fault it really is. Blame me, Mal, just blame me.” I cupped his head and rested my brow on his. “Blame me, little brother. Not yourself. Nothing has ever been your fault. You understand?”

For the slightest moment, I was tricked into thinking I had him back. But he sucked in a deep breath and pulled away. My little brother was slipping through my fingers and I’d just let it happen. How had I let that happen? He was mine to take care. “Don’t make me hate you, Kil. You’re the last thing I want to hate. Let it go and let me be.”

I drew my eyes shut, not bearing to watch him leave towards where he punished himself every evening.

“Kilian,” Visha called, and I forced my eyes open, my brother now gone. “Can I have a moment?”

“Is there something wrong?”

She shook her head, raising a palm to open a portal beside us. “There is something I want you to see.”

She’d taken us to the edge of a cliff in Olympia overlooking a vale occupied with cattle and sheep. The sun had yet to set entirely in this part of the realm, enough time to enjoy the evening beauty of the Olympian heights.

“Sightseeing? Did Larg put you up to this?”

“We are in Amur, where you and Snow fought the Fogling before Cori died. She led them from down there, through this cliff and up the mountain behind us.”

“And?”

“Look behind us.”

White blanketed the sharp rock in front of me. Galanthus had sprouted all over, covering the entirety of the mountain not covered by clouds.

“I visited a few places—places where Snow has used magic before—but this was the only one where you used magic along hers. An Amur local confirmed that the rock below was already dead, nothing would ever grow on it, grass, shrubs, anything. Yet, despite the land and your magic, these sprouted.”