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7
Jaromir woke to a voice in his head and the magic he shouldn't have had slicing like a knife through his chest. It was still dark in the room he shared with his mate and her mates, not even a hint of dawn filtering through the curtains, but there was no chance he could go back to sleep.
What had the voice said? He'd still been half unconscious when it woke him, but Jaro knew for a fact it didn't belong to any of the others. It had beeninsidehis head, clanging around his skull like a deadly echo.
Jaro tried to extricate himself from his mate's arms, but she tightened her grip and murmured in her sleep. She'd been more tactile since their separation, and he knew it would take her a long time to recover from thinking they were dead. He brushed a kiss to her temple, letting his lips linger as her scent calmed him. Maybe he hadn't entirely recovered from her being taken, either.
"You have to let me go, my love," he whispered, pitching his voice low enough to not wake any of them. Though he suspected her guard was already awake, and merely pretending to sleep—that man was more vigilant than even Az.
It took him a few minutes, but Jaro slipped out of Maia's arms, taking a moment to look at her while she slept, her hands splayed where he'd been sleeping, her pale face slack and frighteningly young. It was easy to forget she was only twenty-four when she was scowling and smirking and telling tawdry, explicit jokes.
He forced himself to look away, checking Kheir, Az, and Ark were still asleep—or at least appeared asleep—before he borrowed Maia's fur slippers, which were in turn borrowed from one of their rebels.
"Are you still there?" he whispered when the door was shut behind himself.
He padded down the corridor to the balcony that overlooked the training courtyard. It was empty at this dark hour, almost peaceful compared to the chaotic thoughts spiralling through Jaro's head.
"I heard your voice," he murmured, watching clouds blot out the stars as they moved. "Who are you?"
He had a feeling he already knew. He'd been unable to forget the voice of Maia's saint.
The Wolven Lord, The Iron Dove, The Dagger, The Archer, and The Justice. You are the saints—they’ve been reborn in you.
He might have dismissed it if they hadn'tallheard the saint's voice, resonant and powerful. Not just a delusion born of his trauma, but something they'd all shared. Something undeniable. Maia was the Iron Dove reborn. Az was the Wolven Lord, the forsaken saint. Kheir was the Archer, saint of love of all kinds. Ark was the Lady Justice reborn, with all her wisdom and strategy. And Jaro himself was the Dagger, the saint of revenge.
"Kaial?" he asked, wondering if he was mad for speaking the saint's name. Kaial was known for being the most brutal saint, for his wrath and unforgiving nature. He'd nursed a grudge for a hundred years, and unleashed his fury on his enemies, butchering them until all that remained was blood and ribboned skin.
Jaromir, a whip-hard voice replied.
Jaro straightened with a sharp inhale, a zip of alarm and primal fear going down his spine. He was speaking before he'd thought it through.
"Why did you give me this magic? Beastkind don't have power, we shouldn't—"
The Dagger's laugh was as cutting as his voice.Beastkind have always had magic. The Graceless Swan gave you all a spark, just enough to change forms with. My sister's useless at most things, but she was wise to do that.
"This is more than a spark," Jaro disagreed, his heart drumming fast against his ribs as he stared at the dark, still courtyard. "What am I supposed to do with it? I can't use magic."
It lived in his chest like a beast made of knives and volatile rage, cutting him every time he moved. Beastkind weren't designed for magic—they shifted, and that was all.
You're going to need it,the Dagger said.
"For what?" Jaro asked, a shiver tripping down his back. "Forwhat?" he pressed when Kaial was silent. He swore he could sense the saint's presence, the back of his neck prickling beneath his hair.
Follow the dark things in Venhaus. And remember your family when you're lost,that vicious voice said,or you'll be locked in the dark forever.
"What?" Jaro demanded, unable to keep his voice down.
The presence moved away from his back, and Jaro spun, searching the empty balcony as if he'd see any hint of the saint.
"What the chasm does that mean? Hey!" he shouted. "What does thatmean?"
"Jaro?" Maia's sleep-rough voice asked, and he startled, turning around to find his mate frowning as she came barefoot onto the balcony. "What's wrong?"
He didn't know where to start. He folded Maia into his arms when she hugged him. She stood on his slippered feet, and a thread of amusement moved through Jaro. "You're standing on me."
"My feet are cold," she murmured, resting her head on his chest. "What's wrong, kitty?"
He let himself hold her for a few seconds, inhaling her earthy floral scent, and letting it settle him. "I heard the Dagger."
