Chapter 53
Chapter fifty-three
Kaelith pulled the dark linen shirt over his shoulders with a languid roll of muscle, the fabric catching briefly at his elbows before settling into place.
Beside him, Fenn cinched the drawstring of his loose pants, fingers moving with practiced efficiency.
His deep brown hair slipped forward as he bent slightly, the red-tipped strands falling into his eyes as moonlight kissed the exposed line of his throat.
Pressing the water skin to her lips, Rynna tipped her head back, watching the first edge of the silver disc shimmer into view above the jagged line of the far dunes.
The sky, once the color of charred bone, had darkened into violet ash, and the glisten of lunar light cast a strange glow across the desert ruin.
She swallowed, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and secured the water skin to her hip.
Reaching for the twin short swords laid beside her next, she hooked them onto the cross-harness at her back.
Her fingers traced the hilts, checking the balance, the weight, the readiness.
Then she straightened, trying—and failing—not to wince at the subtle pulse of soreness between her thighs.
The knot. Fucking hell.
She adjusted her stance, as if that would ease the dull ache still lingering deep inside her, the stretch and tension of Fenn’s hold on her body refusing to fade.
“So what exactly are we supposed to do?” Her voice was rougher than she meant it to be, but she rolled her shoulders and pushed forward, pulling the straps tighter across her front as she turned toward the nearest of the towering stone monoliths.
“Honestly?” Kaelith’s voice floated from the far side of the pavilion. “I doubt I would’ve made the connection without all the recent experiments in blood-sharing and…intimacy.” He flashed her a wicked grin, fangs gleaming beneath the half-shadow of his expression.
Her stomach clenched.
“Kae…” The growled warning was weak on her tongue as the throb between her legs flickered.
“Our blood is the key?” Fenn stepped past her, fingers tracing her hip, and approached the nearest monolith.
His back was bare beneath the thin linen, muscles rippling as he pulled his hair up, twisting it into a tight, unkempt bun. Stray strands slipped free, catching the wind and dancing against his cheek.
Kaelith turned toward a different stone. “Mmm.”
His fingers drifted up to his mouth as he pressed a fingertip to one of his fangs. The skin split cleanly, and blood welled. Then, he angled his body, aligning his stance with the silver arc of radiance now slanting across the pavilion.
She followed his gaze.
The moon was rising fast now, and the beams spilled across the ancient stone like liquid, brushing the monolith’s etched surface.
At first, the marks looked like nothing more than worn carvings, eroded by wind and centuries.
But as the light passed over them, lines began to deepen, revealing the shapes of creatures in mid-shift, fangs bared, limbs twisted between man and beast.
Kaelith didn’t touch the stone right away. He waited, adjusting his footing until the light struck his raised hand directly. Then, and only then, did he lower his bloodied fingertip to the surface.
A hum whispered through the air, faint but undeniable.
Rynna froze, the ache in her core momentarily forgotten as the stone responded and the lines within it began to glow.
Next, a vibration rocked beneath her boots, faint but consistent like the heartbeat of something ancient awakening beneath the desert crust. The shining runes flared brighter, their cobalt light casting jagged shadows across the pavilion’s floor.
Turning, she watched as the ground beyond the outer ring of stones began to stir.
The dry, cracked surface fractured in a widening spiral.
Then, one by one, slabs of redstone rose from the dunes, gleaming with the same ethereal blue light that danced through the carvings.
Each block hovered for a second before locking into place just above the desert’s surface, suspended inches above the ground with no visible support.
Forming a path, they stretched from the pavilion into the darkness of the wasteland.
“Okay…” Rynna exhaled, watching as more of the twinkling stones emerged from the sand. “So that’s new.”
Fenn had already stepped away from the monolith, his expression impassive, focused, but she caught the faint tension in his shoulders. He took a few paces forward, stopping just shy of the path’s beginning, eyes scanning the open expanse where the unnatural walkway led.
“Think it’s safe?” she asked, joining him.
“No.” His answer was calm, matter-of-fact. “But that’s never stopped us before.”
Behind them, Kaelith chuckled softly. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His voice was quieter now. “Very old magic. Older than any Reach. Older than the Source.”
Rynna turned to glance at him—and caught him mid-stare.
Kaelith’s gaze was fixed, unmistakably, on the curve of Fenn’s backside, the loose drawstring pants doing little to disguise the taut, clean lines of Fenn’s frame.
Then he blinked. Once. Twice. Caught.
His eyes snapped to Rynna’s, and for a heartbeat, the tension between them shifted entirely.
A flush rose along his neck, visible even in the limited light, crawling fast up to the tips of his ears.
He looked away too quickly, his hand rising to sweep hair behind his ear in a forced, casual gesture that only drew more attention to his awkwardness.
Rynna raised a single brow. Like what you see, snake?
Kaelith cleared his throat, then busied himself dusting imaginary grit from his sleeve. “It appears the path is waiting for us,” he muttered, suddenly fascinated by a nearby glyph.
Fenn hadn’t noticed a thing, or at least pretended not to see. In reality, the man missed little.
Amused, Rynna stepped to his side. “No more time to delay, then.”
Fenn glanced at her, brows lifted in question, but she only smiled and turned her attention back to the path.
The truth was, they were all unraveling in their own ways.
Tensions ran high, not just because of the past or the tangled intimacy they shared, but because the weight of the world clung to every decision.
This path, this trail of floating blue stone across a dead continent, might be the only way through the enemy’s barrier, and they were the only ones who could walk it.
“The others are counting on us,” Fenn said softly, almost to himself.
Rynna nodded, serious now. “All of Fang Unit. The entire world.”
“Then let’s move.” He stepped onto the first glowing stone.
It held his weight easily, humming beneath his boot.
Kaelith hesitated for just a breath, then followed, his gaze lingering on the Waygate behind for a moment, as if trying to commit the patterns to memory.
Rynna moved last, her hand reaching for the hilt of a sword out of habit as she followed the two missing pieces of her soul into the desert’s abyss.