Chapter 39 #3
Calder dusted the Ash from his pant leg.
“About killed me. The magical backlash hit immediately—the worst I’d ever experienced.
For three days, I burned with fever. Hallucinated.
My body tried to reject the rune over and over, but it wouldn’t leave.
When I finally woke up...” He pressed his hand to his chest. “It had merged with my heart. Literally etched itself into the muscle. I can feel it sometimes, especially when I use other runes. Like it’s judging whether they’re worthy of joining it. ”
I swallowed, knowing that’s why he preferred mine. Why he’d kept me so close. Because with him, I’d always been so careful with the weaving. He was my family.
Lucy made a soft sound. Understanding, maybe. Or horror.
“I spent the next five years hunting down everyone involved in my family’s murder.
Systematically. Methodically. No mercy, no hesitation.
Just names crossed off a list until the list was empty.
” He scratched the back of his head, turning away.
“The jobs were messy. Public. I didn’t care who saw or what they thought.
People started calling me the Heartless One because I killed without emotion, without regret. Just... did what needed doing.”
“Did it help? The revenge?” Aureth asked quietly, and something lingered there in that question. A sliver of her own past peeking through, perhaps.
“No. But it was necessary anyway.”
Silence stretched.
“Well,” Pip said finally, her voice determinedly bright, “I think you’re plenty heartful now. You’ve got Syn and you’ve got me, and we’re friends now. The name doesn’t fit anymore.”
Calder’s mouth curved slightly. Not quite a smile, but close. “Maybe.”
“Definitely,” Pip insisted. “Hearts grow back. That’s just science.”
“That’s not how science works,” Lucy argued.
“Pretty sure it is.” Pip settled on Calder’s shoulder like she belonged there, one tiny hand resting in his curly, dark hair. “Besides, I’ve decided you’re good. And I’m an excellent judge of character.”
“Are you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Mostly.” She didn’t move from Calder’s shoulder, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was the faintest hint of color in her cheeks. “I mean, yes.”
A sound cut through the moment. Distant but distinct. Something moving through the Ash with purpose.
Everyone went still.
“What was that?” Lucy’s hand went to her blade.
Another sound. Closer. A wet, dragging noise that made my skin crawl.
“Ash creatures,” Wickett said, already on his feet. “There were fewer than I expected while we were flying.”
Pip’s voice pitched high. “You could see in the dark?”
“Hunter sight. It’s why we’re effective in territories most can’t navigate.”
Then it appeared—a massive vulture-like creature, launching into the sky and circling over us. Its head was too large, beak serrated with teeth that had no place on a bird. Then it dove.
Before anyone could shout a warning, before I could even pull my magic, Wickett moved.
Not moved. Blurred.
One moment he was beside Lucy on the ground.
The next, he was standing near Pip, knives drawn, body twisting with a precision that defied physics.
The creature didn’t stand a chance. His blades caught it mid-dive, slicing through corrupted flesh, and the thing split clean in two before it hit the ground.
The whole thing took maybe two seconds.
“Holy shit,” Lucy breathed.
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t process what I’d just witnessed.
The speed, the control, the absolute lethal grace of it.
I’d seen Wickett fight before, but this?
This was something else entirely. This was the Ripper without restraint, without holding back, and it was possibly the most terrifying and attractive thing I’d ever seen.
Which was a deeply concerning thought to have while standing in the Ash with monster parts scattered across the clearing. Wickett turned back toward us, unfazed, blood splattered across his shirt.
“I’ll take first watch with Calder. Everyone else needs to try to sleep for at least a couple of hours. No more time for chit-chat.”
I swallowed hard, trying to will my pulse into something resembling calm as I unrolled my blanket beside Silas’s massive flank.
That voice. Furies, that voice. The way it had cut through the night, sharp as his knives, leaving no room for argument.
I should’ve been annoyed by the order, the tone that said he expected to be obeyed without question.
But instead... every word had landed low in my stomach, curling there like a spark waiting for tinder.
He’d looked like sin carved into motion. And his voice, always quiet and commanding, had done more to unravel me than the sight of the creature he’d just torn apart to protect us.
It wasn’t fair that someone so dangerous could make me feel safe.
Or that the sound of him giving orders could make my pulse skip in ways I didn’t want to think about.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, remembering only now that I’d forgotten to tell Calder the Oracle knew how to break the oath.