Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
FINN
T he door clicks shut behind her, and the tension in the room thickens, swirling in the air like smoke. Kael leans back in his chair, his posture deceptively relaxed, but I know better. The subtle flex of his jaw and the way his fingers tap once against the polished table betray the storm beneath his calm exterior. I fold my arms, staring at him across the table, willing myself to keep my voice level.
“You bound yourself to her,” I say finally, the words heavy.
Kael doesn’t flinch. “It was necessary.”
“Necessary?” My voice rises, incredulous. “Kael, completing the binding isn’t just some minor detail. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Torin, lounging in his chair with his boots propped on the edge of the table, chuckles. “Relax, Finn. Maybe he just wanted to feel close to her. Who wouldn’t?”
“Shut up, Torin,” I snap, my eyes still locked on Kael .
Kael lifts a brow, unbothered. “She tried to escape. This ensures she won’t. Practical. Efficient.”
“Practical?” I scoff, leaning forward, my voice hard. “You’ve tied yourself to her now, Kael. Permanently. And don’t tell me you don’t feel it—the pull. She’s not... normal. There’s something about her.”
Kael doesn’t flinch, but his calm facade feels too deliberate. I press on, my frustration rising. “The binding isn’t just some convenient tool to keep her in check. It’s ancient magic, Kael. Powerful and dangerous. You know what it means—what it does. ”
Torin perks up, his grin turning sly. “Ah, the binding. Where the mighty Alpha puts his neck on the chopping block for a woman. Isn’t that romantic?”
I ignore him, my focus locked on Kael. “Do you even remember the risks you’ve taken? A warlock can only bind themselves to one partner at a time. One. You’ve made her your equal in this—her pain, her fear, her death —you’ll feel it all as if it were your own. There’s no undoing it, Kael. It’s a vulnerability no one practices anymore for a reason.”
Kael’s gaze sharpens, but he remains silent. The firelight catches the edge of his profile, casting shadows across his features, but even that can’t disguise the weight of what he’s done. The binding mark on his wrist—a faint, shimmering band of light etched into his skin—seems to pulse subtly, as though it’s alive, tethered to something far greater than either of us.
“Do you know what this means for you? For all of us?” I continue, my voice rising. “Anything that happens to her—anything—can affect you. If she dies?—”
“She won’t die,” Kael interrupts, his voice low and calm, but there’s a steel edge to it .
Torin grins, tilting his chair back dangerously far. “You’re all wound up because she’s hot. Admit it.”
I glare at him, my patience wearing thin. “This isn’t about how she looks. And wipe that smug expression off your face. You let her steal your knife, Torin.”
He drops his chair back onto all fours, his grin not faltering for a second. “She didn’t steal it. She earned it.”
I scoff. “Earned it? You practically handed it to her.”
“Oh, come on.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You saw her. She didn’t hesitate. Quick hands, sharp reflexes—I respect that.”
Kael exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Respect it? You let her disarm you. You might as well have handed her a weapon.”
“And wasn’t it hot that she took it?” Torin fires back, his voice low and teasing, unrepentant as ever. “Admit it, Finn. She’s got guts.”
I lean in, my voice sharp. “She’s got more than that. She’s got power. And you were careless enough to give her an edge.”
Torin’s grin only widens. “Careless? Or curious? You have to admit, she’s worth keeping.”
I shake my head, turning to Kael. “You feel it too, don’t you? The pull? Don’t try to pretend you’re immune to it, Kael. None of us are.”
Kael’s eyes meet mine, steady and unyielding. “She’s dangerous. That much is clear. But we can use that. She’s already agreed to the Trials.”
"The Trials aren’t a game, Kael. Rothgar isn’t a game. And now, you’ve tied yourself to someone who’s barely more than a stranger.”
“She’s more than that,” Kael says firmly, meeting my gaze.
I pause, my mind reeling at his words. “What is she, then?” I demand. “Because she’s not normal, and you know it. That pull we all feel—it’s not just because she’s stubborn or clever or whatever else Torin likes to spout about her. There’s something in her blood, Kael. Something we can’t explain.”
Torin leans back, his boots hitting the floor with a dull thud. “She’s human. At least, mostly. I mean, she’s not glowing or chanting spells under her breath.”
“Yet,” I mutter darkly. “We all feel it. You can’t deny it, Torin. She doesn’t just push us physically; it’s like she’s in our heads. That’s the binding, yes, but it’s more. ”
Torin shrugs, clearly unbothered. “So she’s a mystery. Big deal. Maybe she’s got some interesting ancestry. Maybe she’s just... unique.”
“Or maybe the witches’ magic didn’t die out,” I counter, my voice dropping. “Maybe the old prophecies are real.”
The words hang heavy in the air, and for the first time, Torin’s grin falters. He exchanges a glance with Kael, whose jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.
“That’s not possible,” Kael says after a moment, his voice calm but resolute. “The witches are gone. Their power was consumed centuries ago.”
“Or so we’ve been told,” I reply, my tone sharp. “But what if it wasn’t? What if their magic found a way to survive? You know the prophesy.”
Torin whistles low, sitting forward. “So what are you saying, Finn? That she’s the chosen one? The big savior? Come on. She’s just?—”
“She’s not just anything,” I snap. “And you know it. You feel it, don’t you? The way she pushes back, the way she looks at us. It’s like she knows something we don’t. And now, thanks to you—” I jab a finger in Kael’s direction, “—you’re bound to her. Whatever happens in these Trials, we’re all vulnerable because of it. ”
Kael’s expression hardens, but he doesn’t deny it. He leans back in his chair, exuding calm, but through the binding, I can sense the tension simmering beneath the surface.
“We need her ready,” Kael says finally, his voice measured. “The Trials aren’t just about her survival. They’re about ours. Rothgar doesn’t leave loose ends.”
Torin snorts, but there’s no humor in it this time. “And we’ve just painted a giant target on our backs by throwing her into the arena.”
“She’s not defenseless,” Kael says.
“She’s not ready, ” I counter. “And you know it.”
Kael’s lips twitch into a smirk, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Then we make her ready.”
Torin sits back again, his grin reappearing like a mask. “Fine. But if she keeps stealing knives and pulling stunts, don’t come crying to me.”
“You let her steal that knife, Torin,” I snap. “Don’t pretend you weren’t curious about what she’d do with it.”
“And wasn’t it worth it?” Torin says, his grin widening. “She’s unpredictable. Keeps things interesting.”
Kael rises from his seat, cutting off the banter with his commanding presence. “This isn’t about curiosity or entertainment. The Trials start soon, and she can’t lose. We’ve all felt Rothgar’s wrath. Do you want to feel it again?”
Torin shrugs, but his eyes flicker with something darker—something he’s not willing to say aloud.
Kael turns to me, his expression firm. “We’ll prepare her. Push her harder than she’s ever been pushed. She’ll be ready.”
“And if she’s not?” I ask quietly.
“She will be,” Kael says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Torin stands abruptly, stretching. “Well, this has been fun, but I’ve got better places to be. ”
Kael and I exchange a glance, both of us knowing exactly where he’s headed. “If you’re going to her room—” I start, but Torin cuts me off with a sharp grin.
“Jealous, Finn?” he says, swaggering toward the door. “Can’t blame you. She didn’t invite you.”
Before either of us can respond, he’s gone, the door swinging shut behind him. I shake my head, rubbing a hand over my face. “You’re going to regret this binding, Kael. Sooner or later.”
Kael doesn’t respond, but I catch the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—something that tells me he already does.