Chapter 34 Not Now, Not Ever
Not now, not ever
KADE
My room smells of scorched earth and darkness. Zara sleeps fitfully beside me, her body curled into itself as it tries to hold in the fragments of magic still shimmering beneath her skin. Her face is pale, too pale, and the shadows under her eyes are stark against her ashen complexion.
She looks fragile, like an illusion. I remind myself that Zara is anything but delicate. Her breath catches and the way she stutters in her sleep makes my insides clench, over and over, as if I cannot escape her.
I’ve never seen her this drained, this lost.
The blood weave hums faintly between us, its bond always present, always pulling.
Her magic sparks like a dangerous live wire, and it isn’t just hers anymore.
Mine’s mingling with it, and I feel my power seeping into her, spreading into the darkest corners of her soul.
My steadiness is slipping, and the constant control I hold is fraying at the edges, ebbing away like the sea retreating down a beach.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply as I wonder if that tide will rise again.
I don’t want to think about what it might mean, but the truth presses in anyway, cold and sharp.
She’s taking it. Or maybe the blood weave is.
Either way, my power is dwindling, and hers is growing wild. Too wild.
Her body jerks and her lips part in a soundless cry.
“Zara,” I murmur, leaning over her.
She doesn’t wake. Her magic stirs like a flicker of a flame caught in a breeze and the air around us heats unnaturally.
“Control it,” I whisper, more to myself than to her.
She quiets after a moment, her breathing evening out, but the tension doesn’t leave my chest. This isn’t sustainable.
Whatever power she’s tapped into, whatever force the blood weave has become, it’s tearing through her.
And me. It’s not just the magic that worries me.
It’s her. The way she’s starting to lose herself to it. The way she’s starting to overwhelm me.
I slide off the bed, needing space. Needing air.
The floorboards creak under my boots as I move to the window, but the chill of the night doesn’t offer me the clarity I seek.
My thoughts spiral, dark and unrelenting.
Disordered. This was supposed to make us stronger.
The blood weave should be our edge, our weapon, our shield. Instead, it’s unraveling us.
Or perhaps just me.
Footsteps sound on the landing, and they’re deliberately unsubtle. I know their beat and recognize their weight, certain the heavy, intentional steps are unmistakable.
I wander to the door, looking back to check on Zara. She’s still guarding herself, even in unconsciousness. Even against me. The blood weave calls again and for a second, I want to stay, to keep watch, but the heavier footsteps call me away as Galen draws closer.
The knock is sharp, deliberate, more a formality than a courtesy. I pull the door shut and my brother stares at me with a look of consternation, his eyes glancing over my shoulder at the girl lying in my bed.
“She’s alive then,” he says, his voice low and sardonic.
“What do you want?” I reply, my tone even with an edge that threatens violence.
Galen steps back and his presence is as heavy as the tension already weighing down the landing. His dark hair is tied back, the sharp lines of his face made starker in the dim light. My brother clicks his joints as he waits, and each crack is a warning he’s in a foul mood.
“I want to know what the fuck you’re doing about that.” He gestures to Zara with a flick of his hand.
I close the door, leaning back against it. “We’re getting married, Galen. We’ll figure the rest out.”
Galen snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Figure the rest out? She’s half-dead, Kade. You don’t look much better. She’s a problem and you shouldn’t have let her happen.”
“Don’t,” I snap, my voice dropping dangerously low.
“Don’t state the fucking obvious?” Galen never backs down, and it was a mistake to bait him. “She’s a fucking parasite, Kade. You can’t hide the fucking blood weave from us. Don’t you think we sense what’s happening to you? To both of you?”
Fuck.
I should have taken more care. I should have warned Zara.
We should have spent more of our time and effort into hiding the bond that ties us together, and now it’s too late to undo the damage.
The magic twists tighter with every breath, its darkness threading through both of us in a way I can barely control and have to obey.
And Galen’s right—anyone with half a sense of magic could feel its taint if they looked close enough.
My jaw tightens, and I push off the door. “This isn’t your fight, Galen.”
“The hell it isn’t!” He steps closer, his movements sharp and full of restrained fury. “You’ve tied yourself to her, and now you’re dragging all of us into this mess. What happens when you can’t control her, Kade? When she consumes your magic?”
“She won’t,” I snarl, reaching for my magic. It sparks, but it isn’t as potent as it used to be, somehow diminished by the absence of complete control.
“Like fuck she won’t.” Galen doesn’t flinch. His voice lowers, but the iron in it doesn’t waver. “I’m your brother, Kade. I’ve always had your back. But this? This is madness. You’re blind to what she’s doing to you.”
“She’s not doing anything to me,” I snap, the anger I’ve been holding back from slipping free. “You think I don’t know what this bond is? What it’s costing me?”
“Then why the fuck did you do it?” Galen demands, his voice rising.
I take a breath and let his question fill the silence between us.
The truth is a knot in my chest, tangled and raw.
Against every rule I’ve made, every line I’ve drawn, Zara’s under my skin.
She was never supposed to matter. She was supposed to be a tool, a necessary piece in the greater game I’m playing.
I thought I could use her, like I’ve used others before.
But Zara doesn’t bend. She doesn’t obey.
She fights me, resists me at every turn, and somehow, that’s what makes her impossible to ignore.
The blood weave has blurred the lines between us. It whispers to me, feeding me her pain, her anger, her fear. And her strength. Gods, her strength. She’s like a fire from Hell—beautiful, untamable, and dangerous. I should have stamped it out when I had the chance.
But I didn’t.
Because even now, when every instinct tells me to sever the bond, to reclaim what’s mine, I hesitate. The thought of losing her, even at the cost of my own power, twists something in me that I can’t name. It’s madness. It’s weakness. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and it terrifies me.
The horrific truth is I didn’t have a choice when this spell was cast, and I don’t have a choice now.
My magic, my control, my being, slips through my fingers like grains of sand, and with every passing second, I lose more of myself.
My steadiness. My clarity. My power. And in return, I have her.
Zara. A girl who may never truly trust me, who may never truly be mine.
Zara could burn me to the ground if I let her.
But the thought of walking away is worse.
“I know what I’m doing,” I lie, my voice hard.
“No, you don’t,” Galen snaps. “If you did, you wouldn’t look like hell. You wouldn’t be drained, unraveling at the seams while she takes and takes without even meaning to.” He steps closer, lowering his voice. “This isn’t love, Kade. It’s suicide.”
I bristle, my magic flaring faintly in response, but the energy I call is still weaker than it should be, stretched thin. Galen notices, his eyes narrowing.
“See?” he mutters. “You’re already breaking.”
“Enough.” My voice cracks like thunder, echoing down the hall. I shove past him, pacing to the other side of the landing. “I don’t need a lecture, Galen. I need to restore balance.”
“Then you know the answer.”
I turn to him sharply, my hands clenched into fists. “What are you saying?”
“Break the blood weave,” Galen says flatly, his gaze piercing. “Cut her loose before it kills you both.”
The words hit me like a physical blow, a punch that knocks the air from my lungs and leaves me winded.
My mind reels with the suggestion, a dozen memories flashing through my mind, followed by a dozen fantasies of what Zara and I could become.
I want her, and I want her laughter, her stubbornness, and the way she looks at me like I’m the only one who can save her.
I’ve never wanted to be a hero, but I want to be hers.
She’s the exception to all my instincts, the anomaly in all the rules I live by. She’s the opposition to all I want and yet she’s all I need, and she’s what I desire for myself.
“I can’t,” I say finally, my voice barely more than a whisper.
“You won’t,” Galen counters.
I shake my head, frustration clawing at my throat. “You don’t understand, Galen. The blood weave is more than magic. It’s her. She’s in it. In me. And I’m in her. Zara’s more powerful than any other witch I’ve known and I can turn her. I can fix this.”
“You sound delusional,” Galen says, his tone softening for the first time. “She’s inside you, Kade, and she’s going to hollow you out if you let her.”
I’m losing control. If I don’t find a way to regain it, it will kill me.
Maybe both of us, if I cannot survive. The blood weave won’t let Zara thrive without me, and we ought to be in balance by now.
We’re not, and I’m standing on the edge of a precipice, knowing the fall will kill me but I’m unable to step back.
“It can’t be broken, Galen,” I say, my voice firm now. “But I will find a way to control it. To control her.”
Galen raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “And how do you plan to do that?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admit, meeting his gaze. “But I’ll figure it out. I have to.”
Galen studies me for a long moment before nodding, though his expression remains grim. “You’d better, Kade. Because if you don’t, I will.”
“Is that a threat, brother?”
His lips curl into something that might be mistaken for a smile if it weren’t so cold. He steps closer and although I’m used to Galen using his body to intimidate me, this is more than usual. He wants me to know he’s not fucking around, and he wants me to take this fucking seriously.
“She’s a witch, Kade. A powerful one who doesn’t know her place. She’s a tool. A distraction. A warm body to fuck and give you heirs. The order comes first. Always. Above all else. If you cannot bring her in line, then I will. And trust me, I won’t be as merciful as you.”
His words hit like a lash, each syllable biting deep, leaving a sting that lingers long after he falls silent. I force myself to hold his gaze, to ignore the heat rising in my chest, the surge of anger and something else—something raw and protective—that threatens to boil over.
“She’s not a tool,” I say finally, my voice tight with restraint.
Galen’s eyes narrow, his lips pulling back in a sneer. “Then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”
He turns sharply on his heel, his boots echoing against the floor as he strides across the landing and down the stairs. He pauses on the landing below, looking up at me with a look that would turn most men to stone.
“Fix this, Kade. Or I will.”
Galen strolls off, disappearing into the shadows that cover the landing as he makes his way to his quarters.
I wait until the door shuts behind him with a resounding thud before I move, suffocating in the silence that remains.
I turn and slip back into the rooms I used to call mine, wondering how the fuck to make sense of this and whether this is now hers as well.
Inside, the familiar surroundings feel foreign, warped by the tension that’s settled over me like a shroud.
I sink into the nearest chair, mulling over his words as I try to pull myself together.
My hands run through my hair, gripping it tightly as my mind spirals and my thoughts circle, always coming back to the same few words.
A distraction.
A warm body to fuck.
A tool.
Galen’s words burn, not because they’re true, but because of how close they cut to the lies that I’ve told myself. She is a distraction, yes. She consumes my thoughts, my senses, and my every waking moment. But she’s also more. She’s chaos and fire, magic and steel, stubbornness and laughter.
Zara’s not a tool, and I won’t let her be reduced to that, no matter how much Galen sneers or how many threats he makes.
He can unleash his wrath, send his spies to meddle in every corner of my life, or even turn Darius against me.
I’ve seen what they’re capable of together and Galen doesn’t just threaten; he acts.
He’s ruthless enough to sever the blood weave himself if he thinks it’ll save the order we’ve fought so hard to build, and Darius would stand by his side with a blade in hand, ready to cut the ties that bind us.
But Zara isn’t just a bond to be broken or a weapon to be wielded. She’s mine. I’ll be damned if I let Galen, or anyone else, decide what happens to her—or us.
Unfortunately, he’s right about one thing. I need to bring this under control, and if I can’t, it won’t destroy just me. It’ll destroy her, too.
And that’s not something I can let happen.
Not now. Not ever.