Chapter 9 #3
He clasped my shoulder before kneeling beside Kharos.
I followed, lowering myself to the sand.
My hands sank into Kharos’s sleek fur, warmth and dense muscle shifting beneath my touch.
Together, we followed the subtle movements of his body, working the tension from his flank.
His breathing deepened. His tail flicked once, then stilled. A low purr rolled through him.
The adrenaline still coursed through my veins.
This was the part I loved most about being a Bondward.
I could almost understand why some accepted being claimed if it meant sharing this kind of connection with a saber they’d cared for and grown close to.
It was the thing I’d miss most when I found my way out of here.
After a moment, Cassius rose, leaving me to continue on my own. “Very good, Valentina. You’re listening to him.”
The rumble continued beneath my hands. His head dipped toward me, then his eyes closed, content beneath my touch. When I finished, I stroked his fur once more before straightening, allowing myself a small breath of relief.
“You have good instincts,” Cassius said. “That will keep you alive here longer than skill alone.”
I looked at him, and the elation I’d felt faded. “Are you alright? After what happened to Nexra—you seemed close.”
“We were. I took her under my wing when she arrived. She had promise. And she was kind. Too kind for this place.” He was silent for a moment. “I’ve been at the Ludaryn a long time. Would you allow an old man to give you some advice?”
“Gladly.”
He nodded. “You treat the sabers well. You listen and observe. That’s good. But don’t make the mistake of thinking the warriors are different.”
His attention flicked briefly toward Thanor’s broad back as he moved through a brutal sequence at the poles.
“Treat them the same way you treat their sabers.”
A frown creased my brow. “With respect?”
“With caution,” he corrected. “Like dangerous beasts that tolerate closeness only when it serves them. Never forget what they are capable of.”
I shrugged. “I’m not very good at withholding my temper,” I admitted. “Especially when men assume I’ll tolerate being treated like dirt.”
“I noticed. I saw you arguing with Vayren. Restraint will serve you better in the long run. Trust me.”
“My uncle survived here,” I said. “Longer than most, from what I hear.”
“Elion was clever. But more than that, he knew when to bend, when to remain silent. He learned the currents instead of fighting them head-on.” His expression hardened. “You must do the same. Choose your battles. Know who is watching and never assume kindness is free.”
Something in his tone weighed on me. “You sound tired.”
A faint laugh escaped him. “That is because I am.” He shifted his weight, the motion stiff, as if his bones protested. “I feel it in my joints. In the mornings—and at night. I don’t think I will ever leave this place.”
Concern slipped through my composure before I could stop it. “Cassius—”
He lifted a hand, stopping me. “I have lived a full life. More than most here get.”
I swallowed. “I’ve heard things. About Thanor.”
“What sort of things?”
“That his Bondwards don’t survive long.” A brief hesitation followed before I forced myself to look at him. “Do they die by his hand?”
For the first time since he returned, he looked uncertain. “Vayren is a complicated man. He is not like the others,” he said at last. “Whatever he was before the Ludaryn, it left its mark. No one knows the shape of it. You should not taunt him. He is not a gentle man. Curiosity has teeth here.”
My eyes drifted to Thanor, where he moved with lethal precision. “I wouldn’t have guessed gentle,” I murmured, the memory of the nightmare I’d had about him stirring uneasily. I shuddered. “But maybe… never mind.”
“No, tell me.”
A slow breath left me. “I thought maybe he isn’t what everyone believes him to be. Maybe there’s something else beneath that cold exterior.”
As if sensing it, Thanor stilled across the courtyard. He couldn’t hear us… could he? Elion had warned me their senses were heightened—but surely not this much. Heat rose to my cheeks. I cleared my throat and looked away.
Cassius’s mouth curved slightly. “It is only natural to wonder. But unfortunately I do not know whether he had a hand in killing them. His nature remains a mystery. One of his Bondwards was murdered, like Nexra. It was a messy sight.” His jaw tensed.
“The other simply… collapsed. It was deemed heart failure.”
He glanced down at the sand before facing me again.
“I never believed that. Poison leaves fewer questions than steel.”
“Aren’t you afraid? Can’t we do anything?”
He shook his head. “The Bondwards are competitive. The elite… they wager on outcomes, on favor and on survival. Some hold stakes far beyond coin.”
“I know. Sevrak Thane is the Praetor’s man. Do you think Lucina or Sevrak were involved in the deaths of Thanor’s Bondwards?” I asked.
His reaction was immediate. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Don’t speak of such things. Not here. Not ever.”
I froze, my breath caught halfway in.
“Those are thoughts you turn away from. You bury them. You do not give them breath.”
He stepped back again. “This place listens. And it remembers.”
I swallowed, my pulse hammering now.
He straightened. “Focus on your work. On what is in front of you. That is how people last here.” His eyes met mine—old, knowing, and very tired. “Anything else. Gets you killed.”
I nodded and looked back to Kharos, to the steady rise and fall of his breath in the sunlight—but the unease remained, threading through my thoughts like a warning I couldn’t name.
We brushed his coat next, using long strokes that sent clouds of dark fur drifting into the wind. When we finished, Cassius suggested I get some water. “There’s a trough by the far wall. Take a moment.”