Chapter 23 #2
“You shifted forms,” she continued. “I saw it when the Veil Leach exploded and its blood got in your mouth. At first I thought that was just how the creature’s blood affects anyone who ingests it.
But you moved like the creature itself, borrowed its speed and strength.
Tonight, you knew those men weren’t Dravaryn before they even raised a blade.
Then you took that man’s blood and used his illusion magic.
And before any of that, you already knew I was Orchid-born.
You knew it before my sigil flared.” Her tone turned curious, edged with suspicion.
“There were rumors, years ago, that your father had a power no Dravaryn was supposed to possess. A foreign, ancient ability that the palace buried fast.”
Jakobav didn’t answer, making a noise in his throat that might have been a grunt or a caution to tread carefully.
“Jakobav,” she said firmly. “I know you have Blood-Scent magic. I saw it.”
Instead of answering directly, he tilted his head. “Do you remember your first few days at the castle?”
Of course she remembered. Every warning from her childhood had hissed through her head. But she’d ignored them all in pursuit of the prophecy.
“I knew something was different about you then,” Jakobav said quietly.
“You shouldn’t have made it past the outer wards.
No one should. But you bled your way in.
” His jaw tightened. “After you collapsed, I carried you. You were unconscious, barely alive. And your blood…the scent was foreign, enticing. I told myself I wouldn’t.
” He hesitated. “But a drop landed on my tongue. By mistake.”
Ella’s expression darkened, heat flashing in her chest.
“You tasted my blood?”
He raised both hands, defensive. “I swear I didn’t mean to. It was instinct. It felt like…” He exhaled. “It felt like I was breaching something sacred. I didn’t want to invade. I wanted to earn that right.”
The words struck her harder than she expected.
Her laugh came short and disbelieving, edged with anger.
“Earn the right to invade me? Gods, Jakobav.” She wanted to be furious, wanted to cut him down with the harshest words she could muster, yet his phrasing unsettled her, caught her off guard in a way she hated.
Jakobav’s eyes darkened as he leaned closer.
“Still working on that.”
The words sparked between them, tension coiling into something volatile.
He didn’t press further, only held her gaze as though daring her to look away.
“I knew your fire ability instantly,” he said at last. “I could taste the smoke in your blood.” His voice dropped lower, husky with something almost reverent.
“But I couldn’t access it. Couldn’t reach it.
There was more, Ella. Your blood didn’t just hint at power—it was full of patterns, layered and ancient, woven into something I couldn’t trace.
Sweet, intoxicating, but unreadable. I still don’t know what you are. Not fully.”
Ella’s body clenched without her permission.
Her pulse was racing, heat pounding in her veins as though he had branded her from the inside.
Gods, he just kept going, and it should disgust her.
It did. Yet the way he described the taste of her blood in such intricate complexities sent a flash of heat pooling low, a wild thought whispering what it might mean to be claimed in that way.
Jakobav stepped closer, placing a hand on each of her shoulders, grounding her, his touch far too calm for the storm she felt rising.
“When that Veil Leach locked onto you, I knew you had abilities you hadn’t even touched yet.
I thought I saw a ripple when you extended your arms and called to your flame.
But I didn’t know for sure until you vanished into another realm right before my eyes.
That moment… It was how I felt when I first used my blood magic.
I knew it was wrong. I knew it shouldn’t exist. But in that moment”—he lowered his forehead until it almost rested against hers—“there had never been anything more right.”
She went utterly still, as if even the smallest movement might break the fragile thread between them.
He drew back just enough to meet her eyes. His stare held her hostage, daring her to move. To run. But she didn’t.
“You tasted my blood without permission,” she whispered, her voice softer now, though the storm hadn’t entirely left her.
He sighed and gave her a light shove. “I just told you more about my power than I’ve ever told anyone.”
“Really?” Her chest tightened, a shiver racing down her spine.
“Yes.” His gaze did not waver. “It’s taboo in Dravaryn. We don’t talk about blood magic here. My people fear it. What it used to be.”
Ella fell quiet, her thoughts twisting because he had just opened up to her about his gift, something forbidden in his own kingdom, something he clearly did not share with anyone outside of his circle.
She didn’t know why he’d chosen to tell her, but it was affecting her more than she’d care to admit.
A small part of her argued that she should answer with something of her own, that offering a piece of herself was a good move if she wanted to gain his trust. That was the strategic thing to do, a step in the right direction.
But another voice rose beneath it. She didn’t want the conversation to end yet, savoring each truth revealed.
“I don’t understand how I Threadwalked,” she said, the words slipping out before she could second-guess them.
“I’ve never shown any sign of another power besides my flame.
Not once. But the moment I crossed your wards, something changed.
My royal Orchid mark flared on my chest like it was waking up. ”
She drew a breath, unsteady but honest. “I told myself it was just the Veil thinning, magic reacting, the world unraveling. But this…this ability to Threadwalk is not tied to any soil magic that I know. No kingdom carries this gift. It doesn’t exist anywhere in my family lineage that I know of.”
Her voice dropped. “I don’t understand how any of this is possible.”
Jakobav went still, as if he were memorizing each syllable she dared to give him.
“I know the feeling,” he said. “But we can’t waste time wondering how. We keep moving.” His grip tightened, steadying her in a way that felt like a promise. “We use what we have, even if it shouldn’t exist. Neither of us belongs fully to the gifts of our kingdoms. So we make our own path.”
He moved his hand, fingers grazing a strand of her dark hair. “And while we hesitate, breaches continue tearing this realm apart. More every day.”
She hadn’t meant to let the emotion rise, but it did, clawing its way up until she could hardly swallow it back. His words struck true, and she found herself worrying about more than just her own kingdom.
So when he pulled her into his arms, she did not resist.
He held her close, his voice low against her ear. “You won’t face this alone. Stop running from me.”
Ella was flayed open, hating that his words sank deeper than she wanted to allow, hating most of all that he could make her feel anything. But she couldn’t allow herself to read too deep into his words, so she wielded deflection as a weapon.
“Okay, so we push forward. We keep moving. I’ve revealed enough for one night. I feel naked,” she added quickly, “not literally this time. Thank the gods.”
Jakobav let out a low sound, more grunt than laugh.
His hand lingered at the base of her spine, both steadying and unsettling. For a long moment, he didn’t move, as if reluctant to break the fragile peace that had settled between them. When he finally sighed, it was slow and loaded, filled with something that felt like resolve.
And Ella, despite her instinct to retreat, leaned into it.