Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
brENTON
With Finley’s magic bound to our bond, I could feel the way death still hung on to Alastor. I’d felt it the day he’d collapsed, and I felt it now, cold and thin, like a ribbon wrapping around him tighter and tighter. Like he had one foot in the astral realm and another somewhere in between.
I kept my steps steady beside him, matching his slow, uneven pace.
His boots left shallow, dragged-out prints in the damp sand, as if I needed a reminder of how close we still were to losing him.
The wind caught his dark hair, tossing the white strands across his face, but it couldn’t hide how pale he still was.
He moved like someone who’d gripped Death’s hand and hadn’t fully let go.
“Alastor . . .” I faltered. His name came out rough, too full of everything I didn’t know how to say.
He stopped, and his mouth twisted into a grimace. “Don’t ask.” His shadows slithered ahead of us, restless and mirroring the tremor in his body. Even they seemed weaker. “You already know the answer, and I don’t want to have to lie to you.”
I swallowed down the instinct to push, to demand answers he wasn’t prepared to give.
“Yeah.” It came out rough. “I know.”
The wind pulled on the hem of my shirt, carrying the scent of salt and something foreign that clung to Alastor. I didn’t need him to say it aloud. Through Finley’s magic, through whatever now tied me to the astral realm, I felt it sitting beneath his skin. Death hadn’t fully let him go.
“You’re still here, though,” I said quietly. “We have that. You don’t have to tell me anything, but know I’m here, whatever you need.”
His eyes, several shades lighter than his usual gray, held mine. “You won’t tell Teddy?”
I didn’t like keeping things from her, but this wasn’t mine to give away. “I won’t.” I licked my dry lips. “Do you know how much time you have?”
His gaze fell to the water, to where the waves reached and retreated. “Months,” he said. Then softer, “Maybe a little over a year.”
The words landed like stones against my chest.
“Is that what Eiran wanted to speak to you about when he pulled you aside?” That had been a week ago, and only now did I question it.
His jaw ticked, and something flashed behind his eyes. Remorse, maybe. “Along those lines.”
I reached out and gripped his shoulder. Not a question or demand, but a reminder I was there. His shadows faltered for half a beat, quivering against the sand as if they didn’t know whether to recoil or lean in.
“Is it because of me?” I asked, voice quivering. “I felt something rise just before you fainted.” Where I once believed it’d been Finley’s magic, I’d become more familiar with it and knew better. She was right. It hadn’t been her magic. It hadn’t been mine either.
Alastor stilled, his throat working around words he left unsaid.
Like they were fighting their way, burning until he said, “It started a little over a year ago when we were hunting down the human compounds. At first, it was just the headaches. Annoying but manageable.” His mouth twisted, his features caught somewhere between bitterness and exhaustion.
“I’d have these dreams about a woman. Beautiful in a way that didn’t make sense.
She’d appear for only a few beats.” He dragged in a slow breath, his shadows shifting at his feet.
“But every few nights, she’d stay longer.
Just watching me. The longer she stayed, the worse it got.
Like her hands were braced against my skull, reaching but not enough.
” He lifted his hand to his head, like he was holding on to that memory.
“These last few months, it’s been every night.
I talk to her now. She’s—” He shakes his head.
“I know what these dreams are doing to me. I’m not stupid.
But it’s the only place I don’t feel like I’m rotting from the inside. ”
My grip on his shoulder tightened.
“You didn’t strike me down, Brenton,” he said, his words earnest. “I pushed myself too hard in training you and Finley. My body had demanded I rest long before I fainted. Whatever you felt rise is the part that links you to the astral realm.”
Just as I opened my mouth to question him, he continued.
He didn’t look at me when he quietly said, “I’m happy for you.”
Caught off guard, I frowned. “What?”
He finally looked up, his eyes somehow dimmer. There was something soft in them, something that didn’t belong to the sharp, dangerous mage he showed everyone else. “You and Finley,” he finally said. “Joy looks good on you, Brenton.”
A slow, reluctant grin pulled at the corner of my mouth, and although I didn’t feel the tease, I said, “I didn’t realize you saw me like that.” I added a wink for emphasis.
It earned me a quiet, surprised huff of laughter.
The sound settled between us before the weight crept back in.
Alastor glanced down at his restless shadows, then out toward the horizon where the sun slowly set.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think this over,” he said, voice stronger as if he hadn’t shown me the tiniest crack in his composure. “We know what happens to lands when leadership dies without warning. I won’t leave Tera Insaldame or Respandora like that.”
I stiffened. “Alastor—”
“Don’t.” He snapped the single word.
The wind picked up as I coughed to clear the stinging in the back of my throat.
“Koa and Bon will lead Tera Insaldame,” he said.
“I’ve already given them many of my responsibilities, and they command it in all but title.
The people there like and respect them. But Respandora .
. .” He dragged a hand over his face. “I’d like to leave it to Teddy.
She loves the land and people as much as I do. ”
“But you want it to be a separate kingdom from Niev,” I said when he didn’t continue. “You can’t do that with her already named Niev’s queen.”
“No, I cannot.” He let out another heavy sigh that rattled inside my chest. “I hoped Javier would take over. He’s not mage, but he’s mine.
Not my son but simply mine.” He paused, the kind that carried far too much weight.
“He belongs to those people just as they belong to me. But if he stays in Vistos, someone will need to hold it until he’s ready. ”
His gaze slid to me. It wasn’t a plea but more a statement.
“Respandora needs someone who understands her. Someone who knows how to work her land and isn’t afraid to get dirty. Someone who’ll know who to welcome and who to turn away. Someone who’ll fight for her and her people,” he said. “And you . . . you hold that line, Brenton.”
My stomach knotted. “You can’t possibly mean . . .”
“She’s yours if you choose it.” It came out soft and far too vulnerable. “Finley wouldn’t be feared there. Not like she is in Niev. You know the shifter mages. You know their magic.”
“They wouldn’t fear her magic or our binding.” The people of Respandora were different from those of Niev. Her people were kinder with differences, more willing to accept what others shunned.
“You both have a home there regardless of what you decide,” he said.
I swallowed past the tightness in my throat. “If I am who you want to lead Respandora until Javi is ready, I’ll do it.” I shook my head, unable or unwilling to grasp everything he said. “But I don’t like how you’ve made peace with dying. Isn’t there something that can be done?”
I caught the way his eyes flared before he dipped his chin down. “Leah tried when we were still together. I ended it when I realized I wouldn’t be getting better.”
Salty wind bit at my skin, my pulse stuttering with my next question. “What of this female who visits you? If she makes the headaches worse . . .” I hesitated. “Maybe she’s the key to this.”
His shadows rippled at his feet, the movement almost like a shiver.
“She is,” he said, and although the words were quiet, they vibrated with something strange. Not fear or defeat. Longing, maybe.
The kind of longing that didn’t belong to the living.
My brows pulled down. “What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer but simply turned back toward the water, his shoulders angled against the wind with the weight of a thousand things I couldn’t see pressing into him.
Almost too casually, he tilted his head. “And then there’s you, Brent.”
I raised a brow. “What about me?”
“I know you feel how the astral realm hums inside you,” he said. “The way death magic is laced through each breath you take.”
My heart gave one slow, hard thud. It was always there, swimming through my veins without rest.
“You’re not a god.” He laughed when I frowned.
“Not a demi-god like Finley. But you’re not what you were either.
” He paused, weighing each emotion that crossed my face.
“Maybe you brought something back with you when you didn’t die.
Something that stayed asleep until Finley tied her magic to your bond.
Or maybe Eiran tucked something in you. Either way, it’s a part of you now. Like the realm marked you for itself.”
I dragged in a breath that tasted of salt and desperation. Since Finley and I had tied our magic to our bond, I’d felt it. The way the air went cold around me when Finley’s magic tugged at mine. The way shadows lurked where they shouldn’t.
Whatever it was that had risen inside me before Alastor fell was still there. Always there, lying in wait for . . . something.
Alastor’s gaze met mine. “You’re neither mortal nor divine. You’re . . . other. And I believe the gods have a much bigger role for you to play.”
My chest twisted. Not exactly with fear, but with a sharp awareness that he was right.
It was because of that other that I believed I could manipulate the threads of Zaicha’s magic.
“Well then, for my own sanity, you’d better not die just yet, old man. I’m going to need you around to explain what exactly I’ve become.”
A real laugh left him. Loud and rough and almost feral. “Asshole,” he muttered.
I grinned, clapping his back when we started making our way back to camp.