Chapter 9 #3
Kaelzar leans back, his gaze distant. “Some bonds are forged in chains, not choice. When this is over, and you’ve won…” He exhales, almost to himself. “I’ll finally be free of this burden. And whatever happens to you then... that’s your fate to face. Maybe you deserve it.”
The words land like a blow. My pulse thunders in my ears. Because deep down, I didn’t want to claim him for power or pride. I just wanted to believe that this time I was allowed to reach for something—someone—without being told I had no right to.
Yet here I am, being told otherwise. Again.
Stay down. Stay quiet. Unworthy even to hope for an equal. Unfit to be seen as anything more than a burden.
The hurt spills through my chest so thick it feels like it might drown me, but instead, it twists. Sharpens. And somewhere in the pressure, it ignites. I see red.
“You think your presence is the linchpin of my success?” I hiss.
“That without you, I am doomed to fail? How ironic, considering what I’ve glimpsed in your memories.
You failed someone, didn’t you? You left them to their fate while you chased dreams that now mean nothing.
That guilt festers inside you. And you think making me win will absolve you? That it will fix what you destroyed?”
Kaelzar’s jaw locks, but I don’t stop.
“Just as you’ve seen pieces of me I wish I could hide, I’ve seen pieces of you.
The desperate fragments of your soul, the regret you wear like a brand.
You think you’re some tragic martyr on a lonely path?
” I let the silence sharpen the weight of my words before delivering the final blow.
“If that’s what you believe, then you’re a blemish I could do without. ”
His expression darkens. The chains slither against his skin, pulsing with the fury in his veins.
“But since neither of us can escape this bond, I’ll make use of it,” I say, my voice steady. “If nothing else, being tethered to you is a reminder of everything I refuse to become.”
The carriage rattles on. I turn to the window, my chest rising and falling with the force of my words. This Trial is mine to win, with or without him.
When the silence stretches too long, I snap my head back to him. “Well? Tell the coachman I’m awake so we can finally be done with this ride.”
Kaelzar doesn’t even lift his head. “He’d known by the lack of snoring.”
Rage prickles through me, and the magic within me stirs, testing the edges of its restraint.
Then, suddenly, Kaelzar moves. A rare shift in his usual stillness. My gaze flits to his face, just in time to catch the briefest glimpse of silver-gray eyes. They aren’t on my face.
They’re on my right hand. I follow his line of sight and realize that my fingers are playing with the ring he gave me.
I hadn’t even noticed. But now, the tiny golden band holds both our attention, the silence between us thick. He said it would help me control my magic. Does he regret giving it to me? Does he wish the magic would consume me instead?
“Do you want it back?” I ask sharply, ready to rip it off. Before I can, Kaelzar jolts forward. His hand catches mine.
The suddenness of the movement startles not only me but the Godbeast as well. Kaelzar stares at his fingers wrapped around mine, then lifts his gaze, his expression unreadable.
Then the carriage slams to a stop. The force pitches him forward—into me.
His body presses into mine, pinning me against the backseat. His hood, like twin curtains of shadow, blocks out everything except his face, his storm-colored eyes boring into mine.
My breath stutters. My heart slams against my ribs. I have never felt a man this close. Even with Ryker, when we dared to touch, it was always chaste, always careful under the observation of my duenna. Always safe.
This is dangerous. Charged.
Kaelzar’s unreadable gaze doesn’t leave mine. And my body tenses, resentment flaring at his nearness, yet a rogue, unwelcome thrill skitters down my spine. His scent, all leather and rain-soaked stone, curls around me, heightening everything.
His grip tightens on my fingers.
“Keep the ring on,” he says. “It steadies your control, and it alerts me if you’re losing it.” His breath brushes my skin. His voice drops lower. “If you call, I will come.”
Out of obligation, I remind myself.
“Fine,” I whisper, wondering why he first said it would help me control my magic, only to now claim it’s meant to alert him if I need help.
But the thought cuts off abruptly as the carriage door flies open.
The coachman starts to speak, then falters, taking in our position. Heat floods my face. I shove at Kaelzar but pushing him is like trying to move a mountain.
Mercifully, he withdraws, stepping out of the carriage without a word. I follow, hastily straightening my dress under the coachman’s scrutinizing gaze.
The man doesn’t meet my eyes as I thank him. Instead, he urges his horses into motion and flees through the palace gates like I am something unholy. I step through the gates, head held high. My Godbeast follows.
Or so I assume.
Because when I glance over my shoulder, Kaelzar is gone. And despite everything, despite his cruelty and his disdain, his absence leaves behind an unexpected, unwelcome hollowness.