Chapter Fifty-Two
KAEL
Though Galreth lies ahead, I stay sharp as we move through the Nyvaryn Ranges—a perfect place for an ambush.
I know Therion feels it, too. His back is straight as an arrow, and his grip on Aura’s reins is so tight his knuckles are white.
I can see the almost imperceptible swivel of his head from behind, indicating his eyes are darting across the terrain—watching, sensing, listening for anything out of place.
This is what makes Therion an unmatched General—he’s the most observant man under the Stars.
We see Galreth approaching in the distance, and everything looks as it should—though that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
Children are out in the streets, day trade is bustling as it should, and neighbors seem to be talking to one another uninhibited. It’s enough for Therion to visibly relax, and I take his confidence as a sign that I should, too.
We ride the long way into the village, avoiding any highly visible routes, and not long after, the inn comes into view, the weeping eye insignia scrubbed from the building, and all looking restored.
Therion lets out a bird call—something he’s proficient in, and has developed his own language for with the leaders he trains across Aevryn—and the sound of scuffing and scurrying feet fills my ears.
The innocent and wide eyes of the stable hand peer out from behind the gate, and he drags it open for us to enter into the inn’s courtyard once more.
Inside, Merrik stands and stretches his hulking frame, as if he’s been sitting and waiting for a while. “Good to have you back, son,” he says in a gruff yet warm timber, and runs his hand down Nyx’s flank as we pull up.
Jax, Torvyn and Finn are also waiting, expressions laden with anticipation and curiosity. It’s Jax who speaks up first, “Cutting it pretty fucking fine, Kael. It’s almost dusk.”
“What do you want me to say, Jax? It took as long as it took for a fucking reason,” weariness has seeped into my tone and my words come out as a snap. “Now, make yourself useful,” I say, handing the reins to Jax, and dismounting seamlessly off the back.
I reach for Elyssara’s waist, and before she’s even had the chance to move, I lift her from Nyx and place her gently on the cobblestones.
At ground level, her eyes are at the same height as my chest. I tilt her chin upward, dragging her gaze to mine.
Gods, she’s beautiful. Her gaze drifts over my face, across my chest and shoulders, lingering a second too long.
She bites her lip, and I know exactly what she's thinking.
I lower my voice, letting it drop into something rough, something meant for her alone, “You keep looking at me like that, darling, and I won’t care who’s watching when I make good on what your eyes are asking for.”
The blood rushes to her cheeks then, but she steels herself, refusing to feel embarrassed. “You make me feel...” she falters, breath catching. “Stars, I don’t even know how to explain it.”
Therion brushes past us then, and in an almost whisper, he says, “I’ve accepted this, but it doesn’t mean I want to watch you mentally undressing each other all the fucking time, or listen to you talk about your cute little feelings.
” His words come out harsh, but there is no denying the smile he is fighting.
He walks away brusquely, and Elyssara chuckles in his wake.
“Mavyrn’s right—he’s a grumpy bastard,” I say. We both laugh then, but it doesn’t last long.
“I hate to interrupt,” Jax wags her finger between us, “whatever this is, but we have business to tend to.”
“Fuck’s sake, Jaxxy. We spoke about this—be nice,” Merrik stresses the last words, as if he has indeed spoken about this. Likely a lot.
Jax rolls her eyes but reluctantly—and thankfully—backs off. Merrik has always had a way of getting through to her that none of us have ever been able to. It’s why I paired them up to infiltrate the Dravari guard. She’s chaos, but he is somehow able to rein her in.
“We need to move quickly. Word from the unit in Vyrhal is that the Royal Guard are exceeding our timing predictions. They know we’ll be trying to cross The Joining, and they’re coming to intercept before we make it to The Wastes.
We have to leave tonight,” Torvyn speaks with the confidence of a battle-hardened leader who’s been in these situations many times before.
“Fuck,” I drag my hands through my hair. I turn to Seren, knowing she’s the key to the next leg of our journey. “We need to take a look at the next part of the prophecy and know exactly where we’re going. Now,” urgency coats my words.
Seren nods with efficiency and conviction—she’s been doing that more and more. “I’ll need help to sort through the books with such little time. Ronyn and Elyssara know how I work, they can come with me,” she says with the grace of a leader, and I can’t help but agree that it’s a smart call.
Elyssara’s radiant jade-green eyes lock onto mine—brighter, deeper, more alive with every relic we claim—wordless but screaming everything she can’t say.
There’s a hesitation there, a pull, like she doesn’t want to leave.
I nod anyway, forcing the encouragement she needs, even as my chest tightens, the ache deepening with every damn time we’re apart.
Whatever this is between us, I need answers. And soon.
Elyssara follows Seren reluctantly, and I spin on my heel, pulling up a crate around the table while the rest of them do the same, and we all do what we do best—plan our next mission.
“So, give us the rundown,” Merrik is straight into action, as usual.
I opt for quick and ruthless, “We’re changing plans.”
The group erupts in similar fits of displeasure. A cacophony of “I knew it’s” and “this will never work’s”. I allow them their moments, but ultimately, they will get in line or I will fucking put them there.
Jax looks downright disgusted at the change of plans, and seething, her face dripping in disdain, she spits, “The council will never go for this, Kael.”
“We’ve never had a chance at actually bringing down The Decay! We’ll break the curse, extract Nalya ourselves when they’re vulnerable, take back what's ours.” I’ve been planning how I’ll counter their resistance for hours coming down the mountain, and this is the best bet I can make.
“That’s a suicide mission and you know it—we’ve never even broken through the castle grounds!” She’s panting, rage permeating every part of her, “And that’s assuming she’s even there!”
“We will find a way,” I say.
“You’re fucking delusional!” Jax throws her arms in the air, spittle forming in the corners of her mouth.
“That’s what I said,” Therion concurs.
I throw him a venomous look to shut the fuck up and keep his opinions to himself.
“Alright, alright,” Merrik’s calming presence cuts through the chaos—forever the voice of reason. “Let the lad plead his case, you lot.”
A darkness rumbles through me then, and the air turns ice cold and still.
I know without looking that my shadows have come out to play, because all eyes are locked on me and they’ve all stopped breathing.
I look straight into the eyes of each of them, “Firstly, don’t you ever fucking forget who you’re talking to.
Secondly,” I pause weighing the merits of sharing this, “she’s Skaedor’s heir. ”
Silence. Stunned.
Jax’s mouth opens—of course she’s going to say something snide—but I slam my hand on the table. Shadows lash out like smoke, cold tendrils curling around the legs of the table, coiling up arms before snapping back into me. Deadly and sharp. “Don’t,” I say directly to Jax.
“WHAT!?” the words reverberating through my skull, as Torvyn, Finn, and Merrik look to me to elaborate.
“And—” I try to continue.
“Holy fuckin’ Stars, there’s more?” All calmness has vanished from Merrik’s tone.
“She has the gods’ magic in her,” I wait for the remarks.
“What the fuck, Kael? How? What does that even mean?” Jax’s disbelief is mirrored in the rest of the group, too.
“We don’t know yet. All we know is that King Thalmyr and an unknown sorceress exiled the gods, and they left the last remnants of their magic in her.”
“Well, fuck Kael. Any other realm-shifting tidbits you’d like to share with the group?” Torvyn’s sarcasm never ceases, no matter the stakes.
“Oh, there’s more,” Therion mutters under his breath.
I give him a callous sideways glance.
Elyssara would skin me alive for telling them this. But fuck it—if I don’t, they’ll never grasp how deep this runs. And they need to. Because this? This is war.
“I think... we have some sort of,” I look to Therion for assurance, who gives me an imperceptible nod, so I continue, “... connection.”
“Yeah that’s what happens when you fuck, Kael,” Jax states drily. “Why can’t you just choose someone else? Plenty of girls back home would literally sever their own legs off to get in your bed.”
“That’s what I said,” Therion concurs again.
“Would you all fucking listen? It’s not about that. There’s something else between us. It’s something more. I can feel it. It feels like she’s part of me.”
No one dares to speak.
“I think we’re bonded in some way,” I venture, the words leaving a bitter taste. Saying it out loud makes it heavier—real.
The silence is pregnant. No one breathes. This truth has the potential to reshapes battle plans—kingdoms, even.
“What does that even mean?” Jax presses after a heartbeat, leaning forward.
“I don’t know. But it’s not just emotion. I can feel her. Her pain. Sense where she is.”
Torvyn lets out a low whistle. “So if someone gets to her...”
“They get to me,” I finish, the weight of it heavy in my chest.
“So the entire rebellion rests on where you stick your cock? Brilliant, Kael,” Jax’s frustration bursting through.
“It’s not about that,” I snap.
“Could’ve fooled me. You’re tied to her now, Kael. Anyone who wants this rebellion gone? They’ll go through her.”
As much as I hate what she’s saying, she’s not wrong.
“Well, fuck me sideways, lad,” Merrik interlaces his hands and stretches them over his head. “I thought we’d be talking about the compass.” He huffs a laugh then, and his levity is a welcome respite from the intensity.
“Yeah, we got it. Well, Elyssara got it. Only Skaedor’s heir could touch it,” I offer.
“Right, well she’s turning out to be quite important in this whole thing, I’ll give ya that.”
“She’s the key to it all, and I hope you all fucking understand that,” I grit out. “If any of you mention a godsdamned thing about the gods’ magic, her role as heir, or the bond to another living soul, I’ll skin you alive myself and leave you for the fucking duskprowlers.”
They all acquiesce and nod. They may not agree with my choices, but they’ll godsdamn kneel to my orders.
Despite the conviction of my words, I feel like I’m in over my fucking head.
I’m supposed to be the one keeping this whole rebellion afloat. The steady hand. The untouchable commander.
But this bond?
It makes me reckless. Makes me dangerous.
Because one blade at her throat, and I’d be on my knees.