Chapter Twenty-Six
Haide
We move fast, with Legend on my left, Creed on my right, and Zev bringing up the rear with a blade in each hand. Silver joined us after Knight’s exit, joining Sinner at the eastern ridge to cut off any retreat.
Which means it’s just the four of us pushing toward the cavern, and the Nightkin throbs harder with every step.
Closer.
The word vibrates through my chest cavity.
The stones know you’re coming.
I don’t have time to ask what he means, because every second matters. My temple jewels burn, pulsing to the same beat as my heart.
The ravine opens beneath our feet. Trees thin out to make room for black rock formations jutting from the earth as volcanic glass catches the light, speaking fluent violence. The air grows thick in my lungs, heavy with a scent I can’t name.
“There.” I jerk my head. “The cavern entrance.”
Legend’s hand catches my elbow. “We go slow. Check the approach.”
I want to fight him on it. Every inch of me is already lunging ahead, ready to tear down the distance and get to those stones before Arabella fucks us all further.
But the bond keeps pressing against my ribs, steady and grim, carrying his caution, his fear.
Even if I wanted to fight it, I couldn’t. Legend’s never scared of anything.
He’s scared of what this turns into if we fuck it up.
I’m scared of standing here and letting it happen.
I’m scared he’s right, and I hate that even more.
“Fine.” It comes out rough. “Slow.”
We pick our way down the ravine slope, loose stone shifting under our feet. The Nightkin’s pulse shifts from a steady throb to a frequency that rattles my bones.
“Almost there, Hellpet. Can you feel them?”
I can. The soul stones call through my blood like a second heartbeat, and it takes everything I have not to break into a sprint. The flowers are close now, their thorned vines visible in thick braids across the rock face, and the black-and-gold tar drips from it like an open wound.
Zev whistles low behind me. “That’s new.”
He’s both right and wrong. New to him, yes, but I saw the change before I headed back to Rathe with the Nightkin hitching a ride inside me. Even so, they’ve spread further now, crawling up the ravine walls in thick ropes, petals open like soldiers preparing for war.
My thoughts twist.
The warmth of the island’s decay cuts away, replaced by brine and salt and the stench of ocean water left to rot. I brace my hands over my belly as my stomach roils to keep myself from spinning out.
Legend stops moving.
“Hellpet…”
I feel it through the bond before I see it: a lurch in his chest, a skip in the rhythm of his power that drags my own heart sideways with it.
“Legend—”
“Something’s here.” His voice comes out rough, and his hand finds the hilt of his blade. “Something—”
Water rolls in low, unnatural waves across the ravine floor, then it starts to gather, to thicken, pulling itself upward in a shape from saltwater, siren magic, and rot. My nails dig into my palms, my entire body knowing before my brain catches up.
She steps out of it like she was born from the water.
Arabella.
Dark water clings to her in ribbons, sliding from every inch of her—her hair, her gown, her fucking fingertips. Pale Argent light bends the air around her, ivory and pearled, before it spills over the ravine. She doesn’t look angry, desperate, or even all that interested.
She looks patient.
“Hello, Haide.” Her voice carries across the ravine like she’s greeting an old friend. “Took you an awful long time to catch up.”
“Arabella.”
“You’ve been busy.” Her lips curve. “I almost admire it.”
“Where’s the rest of your army?” Zev calls from behind me, blades spinning lazily in his grip. “Too scared to come play?”
Arabella’s gaze slides to him, and something flickers in her expression.
“The exile boy,” she says, and is that a fucking smirk I see? “The one who likes to kill for sport. How interesting.”
Zev’s grin sharpens. “You should see what else I can do.”
“Zev.” Creed’s voice cuts low, a warning. “Not yet.”
Arabella’s attention shifts to Creed, and her smile widens. “And the architect himself. The one who built the beautiful, fragile thing that kept Legend tethered to me for so long.” She presses a hand to her chest mockingly. “I never properly thanked you for that.”
Creed’s jaw tightens.
“The bond was a mistake,” he says, voice flat. “One I intend to correct.”
“Oh, I know.” Arabella’s eyes gleam. “That’s why I improved it.”
Everyone fucking stops.
The Nightkin surges against my chest with enough force that I stagger, and a sound tears out of my throat that isn’t quite human.
“She kept a piece. She kept a PIECE—”
“Haide!” Legend catches my arm, steadying me, but his touch feels distant now, muffled by the roar of blood in my ears.
Arabella watches me with curiosity. “You feel it, don’t you?
The thread that shouldn’t be there.” She takes a step forward, and the dark water around her shifts, pooling at her feet like a living thing.
“I wondered if you would. The mating bond is so…intimate. So invasive.” Her smile turns sharp.
“You must feel everything he feels. Even the parts of him that still belong to me.”
Legend goes rigid beside me.
The bond screams.
“Thank you for bringing him to me,” she practically sings.
I feel it now, feel what the Nightkin recognized before I did—a thin thread through Legend’s chest, buried so deep it’s almost invisible. It doesn’t pulse with the warm gold of our mating bond. It pulses pale and cold, Argent light wrapped around his heart.
“That’s not possible.” My voice comes out strangled. “The mage broke it. I watched it break.”
Arabella laughs, and the sound is worse than any threat she could make.
“The mage broke what I wanted her to break.” She spreads her hands, and the dark water rises behind her in a slow wave.
“Did you really think I’d tether myself to a king without building in a few…
redundancies? Creed’s forbidden magic was so beautifully unstable.
All I had to do was weave a secondary thread before he finished his work.
Something finer. Something designed to survive the severance. ”
Creed makes a sound like he’s been stabbed.
“You—” His voice cracks. “You used my magic to—”
“I improved your magic.” Arabella shrugs. “Your bond was crude. Obvious. Easy to target. Mine is woven so deep into his chest that removing it would tear out everything attached to it.” Her eyes find Legend. “Including her.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t think. The Nightkin throws itself against the inside of my skin, howling with a rage that blisters through my veins. Through the bond, I feel Legend—his horror, his shame, and underneath both, the sickening lurch of something inside him that still responds to her.
That still wants to obey.
No. No, no, no—
“Fight it,” I whisper, and I don’t know if I’m talking to him or to myself. “Legend, fight it—”
He tries.
I feel him reach for his power, feel the dark smoke of the Nightkin, and for one beautiful second the bond blazes hot and furious between us.
Then it chokes.
The pale thread pulses sharply, and Legend’s power stutters to a stop. The smoke collapses back into my chest, and he makes a sound of pure frustration.
Arabella watches it happen with the satisfied expression of someone who’s seen this show before.
“There it is,” she murmurs. “Every time you reach for full force, the thread pulls you back. It’s not strong enough to control you anymore, Legend. But it’s strong enough to cripple.” She tilts her head. “Strong enough to make sure you can never use your power against me.”
Proximity.
We fed right into her hand. She needed him close to refire that connection and I hand-delivered my mate right to her.
Zev meets my gaze and I try to hide the self-hatred, but he misses nothing.
He moves first.
He doesn’t announce himself, or waste time with threats. He launches forward, blades raised high, and for one heartbeat I think he’s actually going to reach her.
Arabella’s hand comes up.
The dark water behind her surges. A wave slams into Zev before he gets within ten feet. He hits the ravine wall hard enough to crack stone, blades spinning away into the dark.
He doesn’t get up.
“Zevryn!” Creed starts toward him, but Arabella’s already turning, and the water rises between them like a wall.
“Ah, ah.” She wags a finger, and the gesture is so casual it makes my vision rim in black. “Stay where you are, architect. I’m not finished with you yet.”
Creed freezes.
I feel his shame spike, feel the weight of what he’s done crashing down on him in real time. He built the original bond. He gave her the tools.
Creed’s eyes catch mine, as if he heard my thoughts, but I only shake my head, hoping he gets the message. Don’t let her in your head.
“You bitch.” The words rip from my mouth. “You absolute fucking bitch—”
Arabella’s attention returns to me, and her smile softens.
“There she is. The little witch who couldn’t mind her fucking business so I could keep the mate who should have been mine.
The crown that belongs on an Argent’s head.
” She takes another step forward, and the air grows colder around her.
“Then again, if you hadn’t come to Rathe to begin with, I guess I would have never known.
I should thank you, actually, for showing me exactly how much he had to give.
How much of him was…reachable.” Her eyes gleam.
“It helped me refine the thread. Make it stronger. Make it permanent.”
The Nightkin roars inside my chest.
“Kill her. Kill her, kill her, KILL HER—”
My power surges before I can control it. Black flames erupt from my hands, edged in crimson, and I throw myself at Arabella with everything I have.
She doesn’t even flinch.
Her hand comes up, gaze brightening like I’m giving her everything she ever wanted, but I’m too distracted by all the rage, by the—
Zev’s body blocks mine just as Arabella unleashes a surge of black water. No!