Chapter 50 Nox
Nox
Faint voices from outside my door roused me from sleep.
“Is he still sleeping?” Kieran whispered.
“Hush, they both need it,” Tessa shot back.
“Well, he won’t be too pleased if he misses the empress’s wedding. They need to leave in the morning.”
Arowyn’s muffled voice cut in. “Feel free to poke the sleeping dragon, Kieran. But I like my eyebrows the way they are.”
Something warm stirred at my chest. Devora’s body pressed against mine, her hair strewn across my arm.
When she stretched, my other arm fell to her hip.
Her soft curves melted into my grip. Her eyes were closed, still partially asleep, but her breath hitched slightly at the end of a sigh, and the sound made heat pool down my spine.
My fingers slid up her side and hit the rough edge of a bandage, and everything slammed back into me.
I recoiled, remembering how she’d gotten these wounds. Who had given them to her. And how that same man was the last one to force himself into her bed, to touch her so callously. How could I be so careless when I was the reason she’d been hurt in the first place?
My feelings for her were no longer something I could deny. I had wanted her from the moment I saw her, despite telling myself I should have nothing to do with her. I craved her. In a way that had already been proven would ruin us both.
She was never my enemy. She was my downfall.
But I wouldn’t let myself become hers.
Scarven took everything from me simply because I treasured it, and he knew how much she meant to me. Any second I spent falling for her, any proof I gave him that she was my weakness would only hurt her more.
I refused to be the reason she shed any more blood, even if it felt like tearing out my own heart.
I extricated my arm from beneath her and felt her stir.
“Nox?” Devora whispered, voice groggy as she turned and pried her eyes open. “What time is it?”
“We slept all night and morning. I just heard Kieran whispering about us needing to leave for the wedding soon.” I tried to keep my voice level as I quickly left her side. I hadn’t slept this much in…Fates, I didn’t even know how long.
Devora went quiet, and I glanced back to see her watching me, a hint of sadness in her eyes. She schooled her features and asked, “What wedding?”
“Clarissa and Thorne’s. It’s in three days, on the winter solstice.”
She blinked a couple of times, then rubbed her eyes. “Right. The wedding.”
I sat back in the chair next to her. “You don’t have to go if you’re not feeling up to it. Nobody would blame you, after what you’ve been through.”
And I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to hold on to my control if I was alone with her.
“No, I—I want to go. I mean, I know things will be weird between Clarissa and me, but…” She shook her head.
“I think I need to get away for a little while. Not be so close to—to him, you know?” Her fingers played with the fringes of the bedsheet, and her shadows danced up and down her hands.
They seemed to respond easily to her emotions.
“Not that I don’t love the Keep and everyone here.
I do, and I’m so happy to be back. But it—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, Devora. I get it. If you want to get away, we’ll go.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Fates, I was already wrapped around her finger.
“I’m a little surprised you still want to go. I figured you’d be planning an attack on the Hollow by now,” she said, peering at me.
I’d thought about it. In the hours after we got back from the rescue mission and Devora lay passed out in my bed, the others had to talk me down from my spiral.
How was I supposed to focus on anything when my sister was brainwashed?
Vera Duma, phoenix Shifter and truly the most powerful magic-wielder in the history of the Veridian Empire, reduced to a puppet at the end of his strings.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her gaze void of recognition, and it hollowed me.
She probably wasn’t the only one. He could be creating an entire army. That, combined with the destructive effects of fatesprig we’d discovered, could make him unstoppable. A force that could both suppress magic and bend it to his will.
I soon realized any attack I made would have the same result until I learned how to counteract the magic-sucking fatesprig and how to break his compulsion over others.
I would get nowhere with brute force. All these midnight raids and missions were pointless if he had some sort of enchantment over them—we could set him back, but not stop him altogether.
I had to think like him. Figure out what magic he was using, and reverse it. There was one thing we hadn’t tried yet.
“Trust me, if I thought making a move on Scarven tonight would work, I’d be halfway to his manor right now.
But it won’t. He expects a counterstrike.
He expects me to come in with every weapon in my arsenal, led only by my anger.
” I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees.
“I can’t fight Vera, and I won’t lead anyone down there to our graves. ”
Devora’s brow furrowed. “Then…I don’t understand. We just do nothing?”
I shook my head slowly. “We have to break whatever magical hold Scarven has on her. We need Alchemy. Silas is wonderful, and he’s done so much to help us and the refugees. But I’ve always known he would never truly be willing to do what it takes to get on the same level as Scarven.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I need to talk to someone who’s not afraid to get their hands a little dirty,” I said.
“We both know Scarven and his Alchemist don’t have a clean bone in their body, and this might be the only way to figure out how they have such strong control over Vera.
” A strand of red hair fell onto Devora’s cheek, and I had to fight the urge to move it behind her ear.
“There are other kinds of magic, Devora. Darker magic that most Alchemists like Silas refuse to touch. But I know just who to talk to.”
Her eyes darted between mine. “What does that have to do with Clarissa and Thorne’s wedding?”
“Because this person will be there.” I gave her a grim smile. “Have you ever heard of blood magic?”