Chapter 13 #2
Soren scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest. “You’re doing a brilliant job, Lorien.
Truly. What he means, Jude, is that your position is cherished.
Respected. Many in the court want it and most will envy you.
You provide Lorien with something the rest of us cannot, and he’s chosen you, above all others.
Above me. Above Orlith. Above everyone, Jude. ”
Lorien growls and the tension in the room crackles like a storm.
“He is the ruler of the oceans,” Soren continues, “but he’s been alone for so long he’s forgotten how this current flows, and he’s struggling against it like a fish caught in a net. But you are the one thing that anchors him now. And you need to be strong enough to weather him.”
I glance at Lorien, who bristles at Soren’s words. The tension in his body is visible, the ripple of muscle beneath his skin, the way his fingers twitch like they’re itching to strike or hold something steady.
He doesn’t deny it, though.
He doesn’t say a word.
“That’s not my responsibility,” I snap, my gaze darting between them. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t want to be here.”
“No,” Soren says simply, “but you are here. And you’ve been given a position of power. The question now is how you use it.”
I scoff, the absurdity of his words cutting through the knot of panic tightening in my chest.
“You think he holds power over you?” Soren asks, his tone calm but pointed.
“But you hold more power over him than he wants you to know. Do you think anyone else could speak to him the way you do and walk away unscathed? Do you think anyone else could make him hesitate, make him think twice about his actions? I hear he’s ordered his windows opened up for the first time in two centuries, and that appears to be because you said one word—just one word—to him and made him see something he’d forgotten. ”
I turn to Lorien, searching his face for confirmation.
His silence is answer enough.
The room feels too charged, the air thick with unspoken truths and things I don’t want to understand. I’m drowning in them, being pulled down by them, and I need space. I need to breathe. I need to catch my breath and think.
“Don’t run from this, Jude,” Lorien says, his voice low, warning. “Don’t pull away from me.”
Soren lets out a sharp laugh, the sound grating.
“This is why you should have told him earlier, Lorien. It’s not fair. He’s swept away in a tide of confusion, and we haven’t even begun to talk about Helena or the kelpies.”
“There’s time,” Lorien snarls.
“Stop delaying,” Soren counters. “You should have killed him the moment he arrived here because of the magic bound inside him. Instead, you took him and now he’s at the center of a storm that’s been brewing for centuries.
Helena’s magic didn’t die with her, and the kelpies will rebel again.
They’re rising, Lorien, and Jude is the thread tying it all together, whether he wants to be or not. ”
My heart pounds and it’s all I can do to keep breathing. This is too much, it’s more than I can endure. Everything is shifting around me and I can’t find a spot on which to stand, can’t find any stillness with which to ground myself.
“Does he know about the bargain you struck with Helena?” Soren asks.
“The one where she agreed to hold the kelpies back so that she could live? Until her magic was done? Does he know that’s what he carries?
The magic of your most feared enemy that is bound by an oath sworn in blood to contain the kelpies, and that his life is the price of failure? ”
I look at Lorien, who meets my gaze with an intensity that makes my stomach churn.
“Is that true?” I ask.
“It’s complicated,” Lorien says, wrapping his hand around my wrist. “Helena’s magic is volatile.
Dangerous. It’s tied to the ocean, to the creatures within it, and to the balance of power here.
It almost destroyed me and the seas I rule, and it would have been simpler to kill you.
It would still be simpler, Jude. But I will not do it.
Not even for the oceans and all who live within them.
Not unless you turn against me and leave me absolutely no choice. ”
I yank my wrist from his grip and he lets me go.
“And the kelpies?”
“Were hunting you. They still are. They will either take the magic bound in you or it will be released, and both are in their interest. You may call my protection a cage, but its bars keep you safe. Always. At any cost.”
I shake my head furiously, refusing to let his words settle, refusing to accept the cage he’s building around me—whether it’s made of power or magic or gold, it doesn’t matter.
“He needs to accept this,” Soren says. “He has to understand that unless he finds balance with you, the ocean will claim him. One way or the other.”
“Get out,” Lorien snaps, his tone pure violence.
Soren holds his ground for a moment, his gaze flicking between us, before he bows his head slightly. He turns and leaves without another word, the door closing behind him with a sharp click that echoes in the silence.
“I would have told you,” Lorien sighs. “I thought it was too much, too soon. I did not intend for you to… carry this burden before you were ready. I was trying to protect you, Jude.”
I’m not sure I want his protection.
Not if it hurts like this.
Not if it costs this much.
His words hang in the air, heavy with a promise I don’t know if I can trust. My chest tightens, my thoughts spiraling, but then his hand is on my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a gesture so tender it steals the breath from my lungs.
“I see you, Jude. Not your magic or what you might do for me. I see you, and you are wanted and protected, and you will thrive in my world, as long as you trust me.”
I close my eyes, the weight of his words pressing down on me. I don’t want to trust him. I don’t want to need him. But as much as I hate to admit it, I do.
When I open my eyes, his golden gaze is locked on mine, steady and unyielding. He leans in slowly, giving me time to pull away, but I don’t.
I can’t.
“You are mine, Jude,” he murmurs against my lips. “And I will keep you safe, even from yourself. I would like you to sleep in my bed tonight, but I will give you the choice.”
I swallow. “What’s the alternative?”
Lorien stands and exhales, his head locking on the cage that shimmers against the black marble.
Its bars gleam like liquid sunlight, too beautiful to be anything but cruel.
They shimmer with a deceptive warmth, a promise of safety that feels more like a trap, their golden glow a mockery of the freedom they steal from me.
“The harder path. One that will hurt both of us, and which will cost you more than you can imagine. I implore you not to test me, Jude. But I think you will, and I am sorry for where that will lead.”