CHAPTER 93 Torj
CHAPTER 93
Torj
‘The rare phenomena of the soul bond has not been recorded for centuries’
– Tethers and Magical Bonds Throughout History
T ORJ WATCHED AS Wren passed beneath the iron gates, her head held high, her steps never faltering. A tempest circled overhead, the wind whipping through the lavender, ripping flowers from the stems and sending them hurtling through the darkening sky. She was a queen calling the storm, a phoenix rising from the ashes, a bolt of lightning in the deep night.
She was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever needed.
And he had just broken her heart.
He wanted to call out to her, to beg her to come back, to forgive him. But instead, he watched her go. For theirs was a story written in scars. A tale of what could have been, shattered by his own hand.
He knew he was right. It was the worst thing he’d ever done, but he’d had to do it – had to sever the bond to save her life; had to hurt her, to save her from himself. Even if it meant losing her. Even if it meant facing a lifetime without her by his side. He would gladly bear that agony, that gaping void in his chest, if it meant she would be safe. If it meant she would live.
A murky version of the future formed before him. One where Audra still allowed him to travel abroad, and he could put as much distance between himself and his former soul-bonded. High seas and flying drakes circling. It was a hollow image. One without meaning, without purpose.
He would go anyway. It was the best course of action for everyone.
Therein lay the irony. He didn’t want to live without her – had been ready to die so she would not. But when he’d gone back to the book about magical bonds, he’d found a passage that read:
The selfless act of severing the bond to save one’s soul-bonded can trigger an ancient magic. A magic that recognizes sacrifice and grants its wielder a second chance at life, healing them enough to survive.
It explained his miraculous recovery from such a wound. How there was no new scar added to his already marred flesh.
He would live.
A half-life, without her.
He could still feel the echo of her, the warmth of her presence that had filled the cracks and crevices of his battle-worn heart. That pain told him all that he needed to know.
That, soul-bonded or not, he would always carry a piece of her with him.
With her storm magic still raging around him, Torj watched on as Wren walked away, as she disappeared beyond the dip of the hill.
And it was like taking a war hammer to the fucking heart.