3

Every minute of that flight was horrific, as I focused intently on the hum of our bond to assess if she was still alive. I wanted to take her far away from the Order, Basdie, all of it—but I knew it was outside of our control. Those hidden and mysterious brands on our wrists would surely serve as a beacon to find us, no matter where we went. I tucked her tighter to my chest, inhaling her scent and trying to ignore the frustration of being unable to protect her from this life.

If I hadn’t been so focused on Cress’s well-being and practically hovering over Nori while she worked to heal the gash on her shoulder, then I might have found time to be angry with Trace. Ever since arriving back at Basdie he had kept his distance from both of us, but stayed close enough to still keep a watchful eye on Cress. At the rendezvous point, the others were shocked to see the state of us both; but not Trace. He knew better than the rest what had transpired. But he had not seen what had truly scared me, whatever had saved us. And I was fairly certain Cress had something to do with it.

When Cress’s eyes finally opened, I had hoped to be the one to comfort her, but she didn’t wait a single minute before she let rage take over at the sight of Trace. I worried she’d cause the wound to re-open, but there was no stopping her fury as she berated him. I felt the betrayal just as much as she had, my brother-in-arms, or so I’d thought, but I knew exactly why this betrayal ran deeper for her. All of us did. His features were unflinching with every angry word, and I could not make out what he whispered to her in response. It must have done nothing to quell her anger, and Cairis immediately went to aid her steps as she wobbled away dizzily.

Up until now Cress had kept up a strong mental shield, but then they ceased completely. Maybe she was intentionally letting him, letting all of us know exactly how broken their trust was. Weeks ago, I might have delighted in knowing that anything residual between them was severed, but I knew the value of working as a team far outweighed my personal desires.

Saryn did nothing to ease the tension, implying that Trace was the only one who ensured we completed the mission successfully. This sent Cress into another fit, spewing rhetorical questions in Trace’s direction and I watched as the anger began to grow out of control. I had every reason to be concerned with what might come of that if I didn’t find some way to distract her, so I gently grabbed her arm, trying to make it clear I was not a threat.

“Cress, look at me. Breathe. Calm down. You have to control your anger, or it might happen again.”

When she did not understand my warning, I glanced quickly at Saryn and Theory whom I’d briefed somewhat while Cress was still unconscious, concerned that it might impact how we needed to treat or heal her. Part of me worried I should keep what happened a secret, but the situation was beyond my knowledge.

It was not a conversation I wanted to have in front of the others. Grateful that Saryn suggested I escort her to the healing pools, I walked silently beside her the entire way, carefully observing whether she was steady on her feet or not.

She began to undress, and I shuddered as she winced at the pain from lifting her arms. With her mental shields still down, I tried to reassure her that she would heal and fly again. Cress stubbornly attempted to undress on her own, again, when I demanded she let me help her. I stepped behind her and began to gently tear at the fabric till it could be removed easily and slide down her arms without her having to raise her shoulder.

I bit my lip, acknowledging the long scar across her shoulder blade, the memory of that arrow striking her playing on repeat in the back of my mind. My strong Moirai , I thought to myself. I would take her wounds, scars and all. She was still perfect in my eyes.

I turned her to face me and lowered myself to my knees. I could not bring myself to look up at her, for fear of her gaze laying me bare. I placed my hands on her hips and began to slowly slide her pants to the ground, hoping with each passing second that she’d let me care for her rather than retreat. Shamefully, I let my fingertips run down her legs across her soft skin and clenched my jaw at the sight of all the dried blood that had seeped its way through her clothing.

When I stood, I grabbed her hand and led her into the waters, unwilling to let go of it even when I was certain she had balanced herself. I continued to lead her farther into the waters, to the ledge she normally sat on every time we’d meet here. Once relaxed into the warm healing waters, she questioned why I’d put myself at risk to save her. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the whole truth, though everything in me wanted to.

I reasoned with her that she was worth saving, just as she had done for Nori, but now she was convinced she owed me a blood debt. She had no idea how badly I wanted to bind my blood to her for eternity, and that losing her might have killed me too. How could she not recognize the call of our bond?

As if she read my mind, she mentioned for the first time ever the sensation, and that’s when it became clear she really had no idea what it meant. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing, now, that she had felt it too, but had reasoned with herself it was related to our abilities. I didn’t have the courage to tell her she was wrong for fear of how she might react. I wanted to talk about the feeling further, but there was something more pressing.

She really couldn’t recollect what happened during the mission, so I shared with her the explosion from my point of view. When it still did not stir her memory and she asked me who had caused it, I embraced her face in both my hands and told her that she had been the one to do it. There was no other plausible explanation. Saryn and Theory had a hypothesis, but they did not share it with me.

The black center of her eyes widened as the memories began to return. Her confusion now turned to panic. She’d never killed anyone, let alone many. No amount of training with Vespers would prepare someone for their first time. A sob wrenched from her chest and I pulled her in tightly to mine, hugging her as she went limp in my arms. I let her cry until she was so exhausted she did not protest when I lifted her to carry her back to her bed. She had already fallen into a slumber by the time I laid her down.

I struggled to sleep. The images of Cress, the arrow in her wing, the blood on the floor, it all became too much to bear. I didn’t know what Saryn and Theory thought had occurred, but I had a far-fetched idea.

It was clear that some of the others had been made aware of what had happened. It irritated me to hear them whisper about her, but I didn’t have much clarification to offer. When they finally showed us what we had risked our lives for, I was too distracted by Cress to give much attention to the portal stones. Though Saryn proclaimed them powerful and unique, to me Cress was those things and more. Knowing we had risked our lives for stones, however rare, tainted them a bit in my mind.

When Trace shot an accusatory remark at Cress, I mustered all the self-control I had remaining to avoid choking him with my Siren Song. He was lucky she was alive, no thanks to him, and he wanted to imply she was a problem? Of course, Saryn hadn’t trained her to do that, and knowing Cress she certainly would have told us if she had something like that in her arsenal of abilities. After all, she had been the one to struggle most with embracing magic since our arrival.

With Trace’s pointed questions, I got the funny feeling he had an inclination as to what her powers were; otherwise, why would he continue to press the matter? I tried to defend her, but he pushed for more answers. When the words “Dark Wielder” left Saryn’s mouth, I could feel the hairs on my arms stand on end. I knew it was a possibility, but an unlikely one. Dark Wielders were as uncommon as Seers. Most had heard the legends, been told the stories, but no one actually had ever seen or met one. Now I was to grapple with the fact that my fated one is supposedly a keeper of this dark magic?

Before any more questions could be asked, Theory chided us and took the moonstones away. I did not like the way Trace had looked at Cress ever since getting the confirmation he so clearly expected. I walked up to him, putting my body squarely in between his and hers.

“Don’t give her a reason to lose control again, or you might find yourself a victim of her wrath.”

I’d pay a good handful of Lorcs to watch Cress put him on his ass for having the audacity to question her after he left us for dead. He can keep his little box of rocks, if that was more important to him.

It was apparent that Cress was intent on carrying the burden of her news alone. If I was being honest with myself, I was wrestling with it, too, but doing my best to have confidence for her. She was prone to self-doubt even before finding out she was a Dark Wielder. None of us had any real knowledge of what it meant, and if Trace did, he certainly wasn’t sharing it with the rest of us.

When Saryn isolated her in what could only be described as a small closet to study, I made it my mission to make regular visits to her, finding excuses like bringing her food or water. She kept emphasizing the need to stay focused and keep her energy levels up with sustenance and good sleep. I was equally curious about her secret studies and missed her presence during training and in the flight field. Nori also checked in with me frequently to ask how Cress was doing, and I appreciated her genuine concern despite her obvious nervousness. The others still seemed mostly fearful of Cress.

I tried to make sure she understood that I personally didn’t care if she ever found a way to use her power again. Sure, it would be an advantage, and I loved the idea that she’d probably be able to defend herself better than any of us if she did learn to wield it properly—but at what cost? You’d have to be a fool to think there wasn’t a price with that kind of magic.

Idris returned, and I knew in my gut it did not bode well for any of us. I went to notify Cress that we were being summoned to the common room for his arrival. The news of King Baelin’s assassination was cause for concern. I hadn’t thought of us going south into Artume when we joined the Order because they were no longer our enemies. The peace treaty had been diligently upheld.

His brother, Silas, apparently had little regard for those treaties, and when he assumed power the peace our two kingdoms had once forged now hung in the balance. Hearing Saryn tell Idris that we were not ready to infiltrate our enemy was an understatement. Idris only said we were all expected to prepare for the evening’s ceremony that entailed only Gods-knew-what.

Idris, Saryn, and Theory donned all black with the silver talismans matching our brands hanging from their necks. We hesitantly followed them out onto the terrace. The air was much cooler now, as dry winter winds blustered through the valley below.

The Imperi.

The words echoed through my mind and sat at the tip of my tongue, begging to be said aloud. We had been the Offerings, then became the Order. What other oath was there to give? We had already bound ourselves to King Aeon, was that not enough?

Theory approached me with a blade in hand and lifted it to my neck. I tried not to swallow the lump in my throat for fear of it chafing against her sharp dagger. I listened nervously as she repeated each word of the oath, following Idris’ instruction. The second she said the word blood, I felt the abrupt sting of the blade slide across my throat. Not deep enough to maim or kill, instead it was done artfully and intentionally.

It scared me, nonetheless, and I could already feel the warmth of blood beginning to surface. Suddenly, Theory’s hand was tight against my throat compressing the open wound and when she lifted her hand away any residual pain or bleeding ceased. I checked the wound myself, feeling for anything at all, but there wasn’t even a scar. The oath was a test of trust and commitment.

When Theory handed me the blade and nodded for me to turn to Cress, I thought I was going to be sick in front of everyone. What if I pressed the blade too hard? What if I could not heal her fast enough? Please, Gods, anyone but her. I turned to face her, looking down and assessing her features. Did she trust me? Didn’t she understand how impossible this was for me? I felt the blade trembling in my hand as I sought to find courage to do what was expected of me. Expected of each of us.

Cress stared into my eyes and gave me a knowing nod. Without it, I don’t know that I’d have found the strength to do it. I lifted the blade to her delicate throat and began to repeat Idris’ words. With each passing phrase, I grew more nervous and felt tears welling in my eyes.

“This is the beginning to no end.”

As I stated my oath to the Imperi, I hoped she felt my intent as I bound myself to her. To always protect her. My fated one. To No End.

I felt the fear begin to emanate from her skin and let my silent Siren Song weave its notes around her, across every inch of her body, wrapping her in a warm embrace. I gently grabbed the back of her head and intertwined my fingers in her hair, then swiped the blade across her throat. I used every ounce of my magic to ensure that Siren Song exceeded any possible pain.

Hurriedly, I moved both my hands to her throat and funneled all of my magic to healing the wound as quickly as possible. I hadn’t even realized I’d dropped the blade. I retrieved it, placing it in the palm of Cress’s hand and let myself feel the warmth of it for a moment just to reassure myself she was okay before she turned to Trace to repeat the same act.

I was relieved to find out that at least if they were going to split us up, however briefly, I wasn’t going to be forced to part ways with Cress. Saryn was going to intensify her training, and I wanted to be nearby to ensure he didn’t take anything too far. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased to know that this would also result in me finally having time with Cress apart from Trace. I shouldn’t have cared because it’s not like she knew who she was to me or my true feelings, but the prospect of not seeing him around every corner with skeptical eyes was a welcome one.

All of this commotion did mean things were getting more serious. Thoughts of infiltrating Artume, a kingdom none of us knew well, was one that had struck fear into all of us. Trace transitioned into a glamour and I had to admit, it was strange to see him without tattoos or that noteworthy scar through his eyebrow. I was glad they were sending Gia. Her stone heart and stubborn attitude was far more prepared than Nori’s, and Cress had barely scratched the surface of her new ability.

When Idris arrived at Basdie with the carriages, we all joined together to say our goodbyes. As I approached, I overheard Gia muttering to herself about the state of the carriage and questioning how she was expected to get any beauty rest hunched in that small space. I pulled her into an embrace and hugged her tightly, so she knew I’d miss her—complaining included.

She pulled away from me and said quietly, “Make sure she’s ready when you join us; that she can rain down the power of the Gods on our enemies.”

Gia’s request only affirmed my own belief that my place was by Cress’s side while she learned to embrace the power of being a Dark Wielder. I gave Gia a nod and moved aside for Cairis.

I walked past Trace and gave him a nod of respect. We hadn’t really spoken much since the fiasco at the Canary Veil, but I needed him to understand he was still my brother by oath. I was bound to him just as much as I was to the others. I could forgive him for leaving me behind, but I would not forgive or forget that he left her.

I tried to watch Cress and Trace’s interaction from a distance without seeming conspicuous. The tension was palpable even from across the stone pathway. I witnessed him hand her something that she quickly pocketed, piquing my curiosity. My jaw tightened when I witnessed him lean in and whisper something in her ear. Gods, grant me the patience to not put my hands on another member of the Imperi . I took a deep breath in and exhaled the dry mountain air through my nostrils. What I wouldn’t give for just an ounce of sea breeze.

Cress gave Gia a much warmer farewell before walking away. Suddenly, I saw her turn back to Gia’s carriage and climb along the side door, leaning her upper body into the window while trying to convey something she must have forgotten to tell Gia. At the sound of Idris’ whistle, the wheels began to turn as the horse’s hooves clacked against the stone. Gia’s carriage started to roll away, and Cress stepped down while mouthing frantic words.

Cress took off running back into the entrance of Basdie like something was very wrong. I paced quickly behind, trying not to look like I was chasing her or give a reason for the others to be alarmed. She sprinted towards the bottom of the falls. With each winding turn, my anxiety grew.

When I reached the bottom, I noticed she had entered the door to the atrium leading to the falls. No one ever went in there, and it was assuredly dangerous and slick. Then the most unexpected thing occurred: the whole of Basdie began to shake. The ground quaked underneath my feet and I braced myself against the wall. I remembered this feeling at the Canary Veil just as Cress unleashed her power. Was it happening again?

When the brief quaking stopped, I peeked my head into the doorway, worried about her. The deafening sound of the waterfall crashing downward made it difficult for her to hear me, so I gestured her back toward me. She was on her knees and appeared quite distressed. I watched as she stood carefully, soaking wet, and made her way back to the doorway.

Once the door was shut, I could finally hear again. In nervous exasperation, I asked if she was okay and if she knew the entire mountain had been quaking. Was she even aware of when her gift activated?

“Moirai,” she said through gritted teeth. “What does it mean?”

Oh no. “It’s just a nickname, Cress.” I tried to play it off casually, the feeling of dread and worry washing over me.

“What does it mean?” she demanded angrily.

I licked my lips, preparing to tell her the truth, my mind wanting to keep the secret but my heart unwilling to comply. Not when she was looking at me this way.

“It means fated one,” I said.

“No, it doesn’t!” she shouted. “I know the literal translation for those words, and it’s not Moirai.”

Oh, my sweet Cress … “That’s because it’s the word my people use for fated one.”

Our gazes were locked and the silent tension between us was drowning me. Finally, the truth that I’d been hiding, something she never saw coming. She was the vibration to my soul, and with every passing second, I was filled with doubt that she would ever have me.

Her words were a cracked whisper, “You… All this time. You’re my mate?”

I tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “The Gods are cruel, aren’t they?”

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