Chapter 43
Tehvan
Tehvan feigned composure as he directed the wards in cleaning up the debris and shattered glass, though his mind raced with worry. The alchemy lab was foggy with smoke, the remnants of his diversion crackling faintly.
He focused on the rhythmic beat pulsating from his ring.
Elora’s heartbeat. It had been wild, erratic for a time, as though she’d been running or hiding, her panic tangible even from a distance.
Now it had slowed, steadying into a pace that made his chest ache with a cautious, fragile hope. Had she gotten away?
“Clear the tables, move those ingredients out of here!” He pointed to different sections of the lab, directing the wards. It was an excuse to stay occupied, to distract himself. But the wards had little time to react before the doors crashed open with a deafening bang.
Thorn stormed in, his once-imposing figure now a ruin of blood and ragged breath. The room went deathly still. Even the guards, who had long learned to stand rigid under his scrutiny, hesitated, glancing at each other as if silently confirming what they were seeing.
His face was a twisted mask of fury, but beneath the rage, he looked wrecked. Blood had soaked through his collar, a thick, wet stain spreading from the jagged wound where part of his ear had been torn away.
His right hand—if it could still be called that—was clutched to his chest, fingers barely intact, a gnarled mess of shredded flesh and exposed bone. He was breathing too hard, his chest heaving in uneven bursts, but the fire in his eyes shone as fiercely as ever.
Did Elora do all that?
Tehvan had scarcely a second to school his expression before Thorn’s eyes locked onto him.
Internally, his emotions warred. He should have felt satisfaction, should have, after everything Thorn had done, after all the pain he had inflicted.
And yet, as he took in the ruin of his brother, bloodied and broken, a subtle nuance existed beneath the grim sense of justice.
A deep, buried instinct, impossible to ignore.
He’s still my brother.
But there was no time to dwell on that.
“By the gods, Abernathy,” he breathed, stepping forward, eyes wide with horror. He reached out but hesitated just before touching him, as if afraid of making it worse. “What happened?” His voice was low, urgent, exactly what someone loyal would sound like.
The wards and guards remained motionless, awaiting Thorn’s reaction, but Tehvan moved without hesitation. He gestured sharply to one of the nearby guards. “Get a healer—now!”
Thorn didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t even glance at the guard who rushed off at the command. His fury was too all-consuming, his eyes burning into Tehvan as if daring him to speak one more word.
“Prepare the boats!” Thorn shouted to the remaining guards. “Double the patrols at the docks and sweep the shorelines. I want her found now.”
She got away. Though relief coursed through him, he knew Thorn couldn’t suspect it. He needed to appear worried, as though the thought of Elora outside his reach unsettled him.
“Who?” he asked, his voice carrying an anxious edge. His brows knit together as he took a step toward his brother, eyes wide with concern.
Thorn’s gaze narrowed, watching him closely, a mocking smile twisting his lips. “Elora,” he replied, the name a harsh bite.
Tehvan’s expression didn’t falter, but he let a flash of worry cross his face, just enough to suggest he was as unsettled as Thorn was.
“Elora?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “No. How? When did she…”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Tehvan,” Thorn cut in. He stepped forward, leaving a faint trail of blood in his wake. “She didn’t get out on her own. Someone gave her that vapor, and I think we both know who.”
Before Tehvan could respond, a small voice piped up beside him. A ward—a girl with long blond hair, around Elora’s age—looked up, her eyes wide.
“Elora… escaped?” she whispered, the shock clear.
The color drained from her face as Thorn’s gaze snapped to her, eyes narrowing, and she quickly averted her eyes, trying to shrink into the shadows.
Tehvan saw the accusation forming on Thorn’s tongue. For a split second, the thought flickered through his mind, letting Thorn suspect her might help throw off suspicion from me. But this girl knew Elora. Maybe she was her friend. He couldn’t bring himself to let her take the fall.
He stepped forward, smoothly positioning himself between Thorn and the ward, drawing his brother’s attention back to the task at hand.
“Forget about her, Thorn,” he said. “If we’re going to get Elora back, we need to act now. You can worry about discipline later.”
Thorn’s eyes narrowed, surprised by Tehvan’s sudden intensity. Tehvan seized the opportunity, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned in.
“I want her here as much as you do, Abernathy,” he murmured, just loud enough for his brother to hear. “If she’s under this roof, at least I know what’s happening to her. If she’s out there… who knows?”
Thorn’s expression darkened, but Tehvan sensed a hint of satisfaction at his apparent loyalty.
“Fine,” Thorn said, standing up straighter, attempting to tower over his brother. “If you’re so eager to help, Tehvan, you’ll have your chance, but not without me watching. You’ll stay close. If there’s a trail to be found, we’ll follow it together.”
Tehvan inclined his head, carefully masking the flicker of relief that passed through him. If Thorn wanted him close, so be it.
“As you wish,” he replied smoothly, slipping into the role of compliant ally. “I’ll begin preparations.”
Thorn gave a curt nod, his gaze never leaving Tehvan, still searching for any hint of betrayal.
Without waiting for another word, Tehvan moved toward the door, keeping his face calm as he left the lab. He knew every step he took was under Thorn’s scrutiny, that the slightest slip would risk everything he’d fought to protect.
As he strode down the corridor, he forced himself to think one step ahead, planning every word and every move. He knew he had only one chance to divert Thorn’s hunt long enough for Elora to slip out of his reach for good.