Chapter 27
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
FINLEY
Smoke still clung in the tent with the remnants of Brenton’s magic hanging in ribbons that refused to fade.
It reminded me of the last time his magic had erupted, back in the human realm, when soldiers came after me when I was too weak to fight back.
Just like then, his magic had chosen its purpose with ruthless precision: to protect me and forsake all others.
Only this time, Hoshiko had been here to contain it.
The night had dragged on endlessly. The lanterns had long burned out, leaving only Willow’s binding light swimming through Alastor. Something low and light, an offering he hadn’t yet accepted or refused.
He hadn’t stirred. Not once.
Javier hadn’t left Alastor’s side. All night, he’d sat cross-legged, one hand gripping Alastor’s while the other tangled in the sheet covering him. His eyes remained fixed on the slow rise and fall of Alastor’s chest.
After I’d stirred, my head still resting on Brenton’s shoulder, exhaustion had made Brenton lay on the floor, his head on my lap, only willing to sleep if I watched over Alastor and Javier. But even in sleep, he didn’t rest. His brows remained furrowed, hair damp with sweat, and breath uneven.
I combed my fingers through his hair, as much for him as for me.
Through a tremor in our bond, I felt his unease. It tangled through the threads of my magic that flowed through him. Although he said he believed me when I said neither my magic nor our binding had harmed Alastor, he still wrestled with that guilt.
He blamed himself for a magic he felt rise while on the other island, a magic that had remained quiet within me. A magic that hadn’t stirred once while on that island. It hadn’t been my magic he’d felt. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder if he blamed himself for permitting my magic to live within him.
The magic that he now feared. Not of me, but of what that magic might make of him.
He’d once told me to be monstrous if that was what I needed. That he’d match my darkness, without flinching or wavering. What if the cost was too high for him? What if he regretted tying himself to me? What if he regretted me?
The idea left my chest hollow because now, even in sleep, his body tensed when my magic brushed his through the bond.
He didn’t mean to pull away. I knew that. But it was now instinct engraved in him.
I’d told him I could bind my magic to my breath, offering him an out, all to keep him from feeling me inside him. He’d refused, saying he wasn’t afraid. But lying here, with his jaw clenched, I could feel the truth behind it. He wasn’t afraid of me but of my magic inside him.
And Zaicha . . . she still lingered at the edges of my magic.
I could still feel where she’d tried to pull from me.
Testing. She was stronger than she let on, and I wasn’t certain we could fend off her next attack.
Not when this one had left me so drained.
Not when Brenton didn’t trust my magic anymore.
While she hadn’t broken through this time, she’d left her mark. A promise of what was to come. How long would we be able to defend ourselves until her magic overpowered ours?
I looked down at Brenton again. His lashes fluttered, a muscle jumping in his cheek. I brushed my thumb across his temple, letting my touch bleed into our tethered bond. His body eased, and when he turned, he wrapped his arm around my thigh.
“We’re kind of a mess, huh?” I whispered, not expecting him to answer.
Willow’s binding shone brighter, drawing my attention back to Alastor. His breathing had grown shallower, and his pulse had grown weaker.
“What if you bind with my magic?” I asked.
Willow angled her head toward me. “Brenton said not to heal him but to keep the connection open. It isn’t strenuous.”
“Brenton’s magic is bound to mine now,” I said, listening to Alastor’s beat grow even fainter. “If you bind to my magic, you’ll also bind to Brenton’s. Maybe if he senses Brenton, he’ll come back.”
She nodded, her eyes solemn. “It’s worth trying.”
Once she connected to my magic, I felt the way Alastor wavered. Not fighting or resisting. Simply standing on the edge, undecided which side to fall on.
He wasn’t afraid but ready to rest, and the only thing keeping him here was love. Those who’d grieve him. Javier’s quiet tears. Brenton’s fierce loyalty. Teddy’s steady affection. His people, he’d die to protect.
I didn’t know him well, but the idea of losing him knotted inside me for those unprepared for Alastor’s surrender in the name of peace.
Since we’d arrived, Javier hadn’t moved from his side. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips constantly moving with words I couldn’t hear.
The faintest chill swept over my spine. Dawn wasn’t far. Pale light started to bleed through the seam of the tent.
And I didn’t know which would come first. The sun rising or Alastor’s final heartbeat.
Then Brenton shifted against me. Body rigid, he lifted his head at the same time Javier did. The air changed while they both stared at Alastor. Then silence cracked with the faintest hitch of a breath. Before I had time to register it, Brenton moved.