Chapter 27
Nadia
Cristian knocked softly, like he was afraid the door might break under his hand. My heart did that awful seesaw thing—half relief, half fury—but I opened the door anyway.
I kept the frame between us like a moat.
He stood there, looking ruined. Shirt wrinkled, hair mussed, eyes so dark that my heart wobbled.
But I held the line.
“I trusted you,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “You decided what I could handle. You made me small.”
Cristian’s face cracked, just a fraction, like a statue finally showing strain. “I thought I was protecting you. I was… wrong.”
The words stung. God, they stung. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d kept it a secret, it was the confirmation of every old fear I’d carried like luggage I forgot I didn’t need anymore.
Too much. Not enough. Breakable. Fragile. Someone you need to lie to for their own good.
The ghosts of those thoughts flickered through me, but they didn’t take over. I could feel the difference. The Nadia from six months ago was hovering behind me, ready to spiral, while present-day Nadia put a hand on her shoulder and said, Not today, babe. We’ve done too much work.
Taking a breath, I held his gaze.
“You keeping this from me wasn’t about me being weak,” I said slowly. “It was about you being scared. You trying to shoulder everything alone. You not trusting yourself to hand me the hard things.”
Cristian’s jaw tightened. “I did not want to cause you pain.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, surprising myself with how certain I sounded. “You tried to protect me. I get that.”
His eyes softened, and in them, hope and devastation tangled together.
“But I still feel betrayed,” I admitted. “And I need time to process and settle my emotions. To not… lash out just because I’m scared.”
He bowed his head slightly, as if my words were some royal decree he intended to honor.
“I understand.”
“And Cristian?” I added, voice dropping. “Thank you for trying to protect me. Even if it was the wrong call.”
He let out a breath like it burned him on the way out. “I’m sorry, Nadia.”
“I know,” I whispered.
A heavy, aching silence stretched between us.
“I’m going to take a nap,” I said. “I just… I don’t have more energy than that right now.”
He stepped back immediately, giving me space like he was afraid to steal air from my lungs.
“I’ll leave you to rest.”
I closed the door gently and leaned against it as my pulse ricocheted through me.
Once it had calmed, I climbed into bed, tugging the blanket up to my chin. My chest ached. My head throbbed. I felt sick and drained and scared and—God help me—I still wanted him near.
As sleep pulled me under, one last thought drifted through the haze.
I wish he were here. Just… here beside me.
But he wasn’t. And for now, that had to be okay.
I woke up gasping.
Cold sweat plastered my shirt to my skin, my hair stuck to my face, and my heartbeat thrashed like it was trying to tear through my ribs. For one disorienting second, I had no idea where I was.
Then the bond hit me. It was wrong, hollow, like a violin string stretched too thin.
Cristian was far away.
Too far.
I pushed myself upright, blinking spots out of my vision. My head buzzed, my stomach twisted, and every part of me felt like it had been unplugged from a power source I hadn’t known I was relying on until it was gone.
“Cristian?” I croaked.
No answer.
I slid out of bed, limbs shaky as I left my room. Gripping the banister, I stumbled downstairs. The living room lights were on. The kitchen was empty.
Cristian wasn’t there, but Cassian was.
He sat on the couch like he’d been waiting—elbow on the armrest, ankle crossed over knee, flipping through one of my sticky-note-filled teacher planners with morbid fascination.
He looked up when he heard me. “You’re conscious. Good.”
My breath hitched. “Where is he?”
Cassian tilted his head. “You’re pale.”
“Don’t do that,” I snapped. “Don’t deflect. I feel terrible. Wrong. Like something is… missing.” My voice broke. “Where is Cristian?”
Cassian closed the planner slowly. “Sit down.”
“No,” I said, stepping toward him. “Tell me where he is.”
Something flickered across his face—not cruelty or amusement. More… pity.
“He’s not close enough for you to feel him,” he said gently. “That’s why you’re ill.”
My stomach dropped.
“Where,” I repeated, “is Cristian?”
Cassian sighed in resignation. “He’s gone to the Sovereign Court.”
Ice ran through my blood. “Why?”
“To give them what they’ve always wanted,” he said. “To offer himself to their life-force circle in exchange for them telling him how to break the bond with you.”
I stared at him. “No.”
“Yes.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“He would,” Cassian said, voice quiet. “And he has. For you.”
The room swayed under my feet.
“He didn’t even tell me,” I whispered.
“He knew you’d try to stop him. And he wasn’t wrong.”
I gripped the back of the couch to keep my balance. “Cassian, that ritual will kill him.”
“Eventually, yes.”
“And you’re just—what—reading my planner while he’s sacrificing himself?!”
Cassian stiffened. “I was gathering my thoughts.”
“Well, gather them faster,” I snapped. “Because you’re taking me to him.”
Cassian’s brows lifted. “Absolutely not.”
I stepped closer until I was toe-to-toe with him. “Cassian,” I said, voice low and deadly, “I will walk into that mansion alone. I will knock. I will ring the bell. I will Yelp review their hospitality. I will do whatever it takes. Take me to him.”
He blinked like I’d short-circuited something in his undead brain.
Finally, he muttered, “You’re a menace.”
“Correct. Now take me to Cristian.”
He rubbed his temples. “If we’re going,” he said, sounding like a man accepting his own execution, “we do it my way. I’ve been sitting here mulling it over, and I think I have a plan.
Cristian would never approve because he has…
morals. But I’ve been with those bastards for over three centuries. I know exactly how to hurt them.”
Before I could ask, a floorboard creaked, and I whirled around. Ezra and Lena stood in the doorway, like two kids caught stealing cookies. Lena was holding a frying pan. Ezra was holding his laptop like a shield.
“We were eavesdropping,” Lena announced, completely unapologetic.
Ezra lifted the laptop. “And you’re not going without us. I know the court’s magical frequencies,” he said, already setting his laptop on the coffee table. “I can track the circle. I can tell when they start the ritual. And I can, maybe, interfere.”
Lena banged the frying pan lightly against her palm. “And I’m here to hit whoever needs hitting.”
Cassian looked between them. “This is absurd.”
“You’re absurd,” Lena snapped.
Cassian’s mouth twitched. “Fair.”
Ezra closed his laptop with a decisive click. “We going or what?”
I straightened, dizziness be damned. “Let’s go. Cristian needs us.”
Cassian sighed dramatically and stood. “This is going to get us all killed.”
“Then,” I said, grabbing a dagger off the coffee table—because at this point, why not—“we’ll die loudly.”
Lena whooped. Ezra swore quietly. Cassian muttered something about regretting all his life choices.
But they followed me to the door. This time I wasn’t the girl who let people decide for her.
I was going to save him.