CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Do you have all your belongings?”
The faint light filtering through the stained glass of the foyer seemed duller than usual, the vibrant magics of the afternoon drained away into a murky gray.
I nodded, clutching the worn leather satchel to my chest so tightly that the strap dug into my shoulder.
Sora turned away from me, her dark robes snapping as she addressed a guard.
“Escort Miss Kaelia home, promptly and safely,” she ordered. “Use the side thoroughfares. Ensure there are no disruptions, and do not leave her side until she is behind her own threshold. Do you understand?”
The guard nodded stiffly, his face remaining impassive. Sora reached into the hidden folds of her sleeve. “Before you leave, child.”
She extended her hand, palm turned upward. Resting there was a river stone, smooth and pale as bone. Runes drifted across its surface in slow, liquid spirals, shifting like secrets too soft for mortal ears.
“Take this,” she said. “It is a Whisper Stone. If you are ever in danger, press your thumb to its center. I will hear the call.”
The stone looked harmless. Small. Almost delicate. But nothing crafted beneath the council’s seal was ever without consequence.
The stone looked delicate, but I hesitated. I had seen the crystal used during the Moonlit Trials—the one designed to read the deepest vibrations of a soul. This felt like a smaller, more intimate version of that same intrusion.
“A precaution,” she whispered, her fingers brushing mine as I lifted the cool weight. The light within it brightened at my touch, pulsing in a slow, steady rhythm that felt uncomfortably like a heartbeat. “To ensure the dark stays where it belongs. In the past.”
I slipped the stone into my pocket, my skin crawling. I did not believe for a moment that it was for my protection.
The doors to the Archives opened with a low groan, and the night air spilled over me.
I walked half a pace behind the guard, my hands clasped before me to stop myself from fiddling.
My mind was a storm of nerves.
I had not seen my family since our argument days ago. I had snuck out the following morning before the sun was up, knowing they would all still be sleeping.
I knew they would be delighted that I was bound, but I was not sure how they would receive the news that I had chosen a woman.
When my cottage finally emerged from the darkness, tucked between the ancient elder oaks, my steps slowed. Warm amber light spilled from the windows, painting gold across the garden path. The guard gave a brief nod before retreating into the shadows.
I pushed open the door.
Warmth wrapped around me at once, thick with the scent of lamb stew and fresh herbs.
“Kaelia!”
My mother’s voice carried from the kitchen before she appeared, flour dusting her hands and catching in the loose curls at her temples.
She crossed the room in quick strides and pulled me into her arms without hesitation.
A sob threatened to break through my throat. I wanted to cry. I wanted to tell her everything. But I knew I could not.
My father rose from his chair, a leather-bound book slipping forgotten to the cushions.
“You are home,” he said simply.
“Yes.”
Mother stepped back, her fingers brushing my shoulders. “We were so worried. Tell us, are you safe?”
Before I could respond, Lyra darted forward, her arms encircling me in a tight embrace. “Tell me you are alright,” she whispered.
“I am fine, Lyra,” I murmured, forcing a smile. I pulled back, looking at all of them. “I am bound.”
“Bound! Finally!” My mother clapped her hands, tears of relief shining in her eyes. “Oh, thank the Goddess. We can finally sleep.”
Lyra grinned. “Tell us everything. Who is he? Do we know of him?”
I hesitated for a moment before exhaling with sagged shoulders. “Her name is Hera.”
The joy on my mother’s face faltered, replaced by a flicker of bewilderment. “Her?” she repeated. “But, Kaelia, we thought… we had anticipated a merchant, or perhaps a scholar…”
She trailed off, her gaze darting toward my father.
“We had expected a male counterpart, darling,” he supplied gently. “But your happiness and safety are paramount. Is this what you want?”
I swallowed hard. “I am content. Hera is steady. She is kind. We decided it was the best path for both of us.”
Mother smoothed her apron, her hands trembling slightly. “Well, if she is kind, then that is what matters. A good match for my daughter.”
“It feels… calm,” I added quickly. “There is a great deal of peace between us, Mother.”
My father watched me for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he finally nodded.
“Peace is a good omen,” Mother whispered. “If you are not fighting the bond, then it is a blessing.”
Father offered a measured smile. “If you have found a measure of peace after all this turmoil, Kaelia, then that is all that matters.”
Peace.
My soul did not want peace; it wanted the scorching heat of the man who had called me his little flame.
“Tomorrow,” Mother said, her eyes glistening. “She must come for supper. We will celebrate the binding.”
“Tomorrow,” I agreed.
The rest of the evening was a blur of forced normalcy. I sat at the table, pushing stew around my bowl, listening to Father’s low chuckle and Lyra’s humming.
It was everything I had believed I would struggle to leave behind if I had remained boundless.
Later, when the house had quieted, I sat at the edge of my bed and drew the Whisper Stone from my pocket. It lay in my palm, the runes drifting in slow blue currents.
I tried not to think of Talon. I tried not to remember the way his voice had wrapped around my name.
But memory is a treacherous thing.
The moment my thoughts brushed his, the stone reacted.
Heat flared through it without warning. The soft blue deepened, then sharpened into a furious red that bled across the runes in jagged streaks. It vibrated against my bones with a low, threatening growl.
I cried out and let it fall. My palm burned, the skin flushed red.
I stared at the stone as it settled back to blue. It was a tracking device. It was tuned to my emotions, a spy in my very pocket designed to ensure I did not stray toward the dark.
I crossed the room and unlatched the window, the night air rushing in to meet me. With a flick of my wrist, I threw the bone-pale stone into the darkness of the woods. I did not wait to hear it hit the ground.
I would no longer bow to the sterile commands of Keeper Sora. My soul knew Talon’s words were the only truth, and though I had shackled myself to a bond I did not want, I knew this was not the end.
Because Talon did not strike me as a man who would bow to parchment and signatures. And I was not a woman who could survive a lifetime built on quiet instead of truth.