Chapter 19
The world shifts on its axis
ZARA
My head throbs and I roll over, forcing myself to my feet.
The world spins as the wind picks up, carrying the scent of burning magic with it, but it’s unusual and unlike any sorcery I’ve known.
It’s ancient and ruined, like the charred remains of a forest left to smolder long after the flames have died.
The trees around us stand skeletal, their blackened trunks twisted and broken, as if even nature itself has turned against us.
The air is thick with the taste of ash, heavy with the weight of something unnatural in the distance.
“Easy,” Kade growls. “Take your time.”
“What the fuck happened?”
I press my weight down, hoping my balance does the decent thing and finds itself again. It returns, slowly, as if it’s trying to spite me with its tardiness and my vision joins in, deciding that Kade’s face is the only thing it wants to focus on.
“You tell me, Zara,” he says. “You did this.” He spins around for dramatic effect and I contemplate murdering him. “You took out a small army of warlocks.”
I don’t remember.
I don’t think I believe him.
I don’t know if I want it to be true.
If it is, it means I saved our lives. Kade’s as well as mine. It means I’m more powerful than him, maybe more powerful than all the Senior Council. But I don’t want this kind of power, not when it comes with responsibility. Not when it puts a target on my back and I’ll never escape its burden.
“I didn’t…”
Kade doesn’t cut me off and my words fade away, as lost in the ether as I am.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to; the silence between us is enough.
Heavy, uncomfortable, and impossible to ignore.
I press a hand to my temple, wincing at the dull throb that refuses to subside.
The smell of scorched magic lingers, clinging to my skin like a second layer.
“I didn’t,” I say again, softer this time, as if repeating it will make it true.
“Don’t waste your breath,” Kade mutters. “You’ve got nothing to prove to me.”
The silence returns, and its presence is oppressive.
Kade backs away, resting against a tree as he watches me.
I know him well enough to know he’d usually make some sarcastic remark or scathing put-down right around now, seizing the opportunity to put me in my place.
But he doesn’t. He just stands there, quiet and still, his gaze scanning the ruined landscape like he’s expecting someone to appear.
Now, he’s unnervingly calm. He’s too measured. He’s too controlled. He’s keeping something bottled up and it’s concerning. Worse, it’s deeply unsettling.
I brush the ash from my clothes, wincing as my fingers brush over a tender spot on my ribs. “Should we get going?”
“There’s a tavern about a day’s walk from here. We can stop there from the night if it’s still standing.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “We don’t have any money.”
“Money isn’t a problem,” Kade replies, walking away.
I sigh and trudge behind him, too tired and too confused to argue with him. I stare at his boots, letting the blank spaces in my memory gnaw away at me. I don’t remember casting that much magic and I don’t remember it burning through me or seeing it tear through a group of warlocks.
All I remember is the panic beforehand. The sheer desperation.
The fear that choked the air from my lungs and the certainty we wouldn’t survive unless I did something.
Shit, the thought that we wouldn’t survive was the last conscious thought I had and that might be more terrifying than anything that happened after.
Magic has rules, even among the chaos. It has structure and form, a rhyme and reason to it. I’ve always been careful, always kept the thinnest slither of control. I abided by the limits; I didn’t break the rules my coven taught me.
Until he needed me to.
I might not remember how I did it, but I’m sure I tore through whatever rules existed. Whatever it was, it was raw and wild, completely out of my hands.
And Kade saw it all.
I glance up at his back as he strides ahead of me, his steps deliberate but not hurried, like he knows exactly where he’s going.
He hasn’t said much since we started moving, and that silence unsettles me.
Kade is rarely quiet, always quick with a sharp comment or a biting observation.
Now, he’s almost reflective, as if he’s turning something over in his mind.
The forest looms around us, its skeletal trees standing like silent witnesses to whatever catastrophe left them in this state. The air is dense and cloying, the faint scent of burning magic still lingering as we move deeper into the wilderness. My ribs ache with every step, but I don’t complain.
“Kade?” I whisper.
He stops. “What is it, kitten?”
I want to ask him if he’s hurt. I should ask him what he’s thinking and make him tell me what happened yesterday. I’m well within my rights to demand an explanation, but I don’t know if I can face the answers to any of those questions. Or worse, his refusal to tell me what I need to know.
“How far is it?”
I roll my eyes, irritated at myself for behaving like a pathetic teenager. He must think I’m an imbecile. This can’t endear me or improve his opinion of me, and the sound of my boots crunching against the brittle earth is as final as his judgment seems.
Kade glances over his shoulder, his expression unreadable in the dim light filtering through the twisted canopy above. “A few hours. If we keep moving, we’ll make it by nightfall.”
His voice is steady, detached, as if the ruined forest and the silence stretching between us don’t affect him at all. But I know better. Kade isn’t the type to let anything slip unless he wants to, and right now, he’s guarding whatever thoughts are rattling around in that infuriating head of his.
Yesterday, he was a torrent of rage and sarcasm, biting words laced with steel. Today, he’s unnervingly quiet, and I can’t decide which version of him is worse.
“I’m okay, thanks for asking.”
Kade stops and I almost slam into him. “Don’t lie, Zara. Not to me.”
“I’m not.” I am. Lying.
He doesn’t respond, just watches me for a moment longer, his gaze heavy and knowing.
Then he turns and starts walking again, leaving me to follow in his wake like a shadow.
I bite the inside of my cheek and force my legs to move, my mind racing with all the things I wish I’d said and the things I’m glad I didn’t.
We walk in stony silence, past trees that creak in the faint breeze blowing across a blackened landscape that claws at the sky with accusatory fingers.
Every so often he asks if I’m ready to talk; I tell him I’m not, and then we stare at each other with glacial expressions before continuing our walk without saying a word.
I don’t know how many hours we spend walking, and all I know is I’m no longer sure which one of us is the greater evil.
I’m afraid, and it’s impossible to escape this when the person who terrifies me is myself.
Time stretches, broken only by the rhythm of our footsteps and the thoughts swirling through my head.
My body aches, throbbing in time with the steady beat of my heart, which has decided to keep going, for now at least.
“Are you sure this is the right way?” I ask.
“Positive.”
His answer is clipped, leaving no room for doubt or discussion. I want to push him, to needle at that stoic calm until he cracks, but the oppressive weight of the forest unnerves me. I stare into the darkness and it stares back, and whatever’s lurking out there isn’t playing nice.
We’re being watched.
We’re being hunted.
We’re being led straight into a trap.
The ground gives way beneath me as the brittle earth opens, its deafening crack as loud as any crash of thunder.
My stomach lurches as I plummet into the darkness, the air rushing past me in a chaotic roar.
I hit the bottom hard, pain blooming through my ribs as I gasp for air, cursing that I was too slow to reach for my magic.
Or too damn frightened.
I scramble to my feet, looking up at the jagged edges of the pit. They frame the faint light of the sky, but it seems a distant and unreachable world now. Shadows close in around me, dense and unrelenting, and the air down here is colder, sharper, with an acrid tang that burns my throat.
“Zara!” Kade’s voice pierces the silence, sharp and commanding.
I reach for my magic and its sparks feel wet, refusing to catch light. I try again, but nothing happens and I grit my teeth, certain the shadows are somehow stopping my magic from working.
“I’m fine,” I manage, though my ribs scream in protest.
I step back and my hands brush against the slick, uneven wall of the pit, and my fingers come away covered in oily gloop. I’m not climbing out of this hole and I spin around, looking for any other way out.
“Don’t move!” Kade snaps, his tone suddenly urgent.
I freeze. “What?”
“There’s something down there with you,” he says, his voice tight.
There’s no doubt in his tone, and its coldness sends a chill creeping down my spine.
I glance around, straining to see through the murky shadows.
The faint light from above doesn’t reach far and there’s not enough of it to make out anything, and for a moment I think the asshole is fucking around with me, or trying to teach me some sort of lesson.
A low, guttural growl cuts me off, reverberating through the pit like a physical force. The sound is inhuman, primal, and so close that it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Whatever made it moves, and I catch its form shift in the darkness just at the edge of my vision.
“Stay still,” Kade orders.
A flicker of red, faint and glowing like embers, diffuses through the shadows and I shudder again. The growl comes again, deeper this time, and closer. More threatening too, with the promise of violence and a horrific death thrown in on top of the already terrifying sound.
“Shit,” I mutter, pressing myself against the cold, damp pit wall.
My heart pounds in my chest as the shadows shift, pulling together into a hulking form.
Its body is an amalgamation of horrors—thick, matted fur like ash-covered moss, skeletal wings that scrape against the walls, and claws as long as daggers glinting faintly in the dim light.
Two smoldering red eyes lock onto mine, burning with a predator’s malice.
“Kade,” I hiss, panic clawing at my voice. “What the hell is this thing?”
“Stay calm.” His voice is steady, but I can hear the tension beneath it. “That’s a Morruvak. Old and powerful magic that predates even the Council.”
The Morruvak’s tail lashes, sending pebbles skittering.
It lowers itself onto four twisted legs, muscles coiling as it prepares to lunge.
I freeze with fear, still unable to draw on my magic and Kade leaps before I even think about telling him not to.
His landing sends shockwaves of dust through the pit and awe through my soul, as he doesn’t hesitate to lash out at the Morruvak.
The creature swivels toward him with a roar, but Kade moves like the darkness itself, sidestepping its claws and slashing at its side.
Black, oily blood sprays onto the ground, hissing like acid where it lands and the creature howls, its wings flaring wide.
It sweeps at Kade with its tail, but he ducks under it, spinning to drive his dagger into its exposed belly.
The Morruvak screeches, its wings beating violently as it rears back, towering over him.
“Kade!” I shout.
“Stay behind me,” he barks, dodging again as the monster’s claws rake through the space where he stood. He pivots, slashing at its legs, forcing it lower.
The creature lunges again, and Kade meets it head-on, his movements swift and precise.
The clash of steel against flesh echoes through the pit, each strike sending sparks of magic crackling through the air.
The Morruvak stumbles, snarling, but Kade doesn’t hesitate.
He leaps onto its back, plunging his dagger deep into the base of its skull.
The creature convulses, its screech cut off abruptly as it collapses to the ground in a heap of twitching limbs.
Kade dismounts, yanking his blade free. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, and he turns to me, his expression grim.
“Still alive?” he asks, wiping the blade on his trousers.
I nod and his eyebrow arches. “Thanks.”
Kade’s head tilts and for a split second starlight bursts through his irises. “You’re most welcome, Zara.”
He curls his finger and I stumble over, stopping when I’m close enough to rest my head against his chest. His arms wrap around me and I lean against him, letting the silence press us together.
I move with the rising and falling of his chest and I’m surprised when his fingers stroke my hair, his touch strangely delicate and soothing in this accursed place.
“This place is awful,” I sigh.
“This isn’t the half of it,” Kade replies. “This trap was meant for you, kitten. But we’ll be a damn sight safer and much more comfortable if we get to that fucking tavern, and I think I have enough magic in me to take us both there.”
His hold tightens and I don’t fight it. I could, but I don’t want to, and I don’t know what that means anymore. Just as I no longer know what any of this means.
“We’ll get you nice and warm, and you can even take a ridiculously long hot bath before bed.”
Kade almost sounds relieved at the thought of me indulging myself, and I almost want it.
“We will share a room, Zara. The blood weave won’t allow for us to be apart.”
I nod and he exhales again.
The world fades around me as the air thickens, swirling in subtle patterns and the space outside us bends.
It folds and a pulse spreads through the structure of everything, making the layers of reality shift.
The veil between places thins and reorders itself, realigning in a way I haven’t experienced before and I feel gravity pull at the threads of my sense, making the earth beneath me both distant and present.
I glimpse the world’s design and see its fractured fluidity. There’s a lattice of power and will that endlessly shifts like the bones of a living creature. The structure is familiar but strange, comforting, but unlike any weave of magic I’ve seen or known.
The world shifts on its axis, and it shifts because he made it move.
And Kade made it move for me.