CHAPTER 15
THE CAPTURED WARRIOR
A Thorne taken alive has not yet lost.
– Thorne Code of Honour, Tenet VII
Gods, there he was.
Kara found him alone. Standing right in front of her. She almost forgot how to breathe. After everything, the chase, the villages, the climb – there he was. Just... standing there. And all she could think of was the night in the apple grove, the way he’d looked at her.
She’d practised what she was going to say in her head a hundred times, telling herself she was ready for this. But she wasn’t. Not even close.
He hadn’t seen her yet; his back was turned, the wind pulling at his cloak. The sight of him made her pulse race. She wanted to close the distance. Gods, she did. Her hands itched to reach for him... to hold him, not trap him.
What am I doing?
Henry’s voice echoed in her head: Now we know exactly how dangerous Sebastian Thorne is.
She stopped out of sight, dragging in a breath to steady herself. Forced herself to remember why she’d come. She had to. Even if every part of her was screaming not to.
The Air Shard pulsed on its crystalline platform, held at the edge of the high plateau. A dome of Fatàn’s ruby magic surrounded it – a deceptive calm to the destruction before it. Several Thorne guards lay unconscious on the floor.
Not dead. He didn’t kill them.
Sebastian had walked towards it, stance tense, but his sword was sheathed. He reached out and crossed the Fatàn shield as if it weren’t there. Kara didn’t understand. Only those of Fatàn blood could cross the shields.
How is he doing that?
He gazed at the Shard and she faltered, her feet refusing to move. She should step out, speak, do what she’d come here to do.
But instead, she reached for the magic Henry had taught her – like pressing her palm against a locked door – and pushed, gently, carefully. There was a faint whisper... a shadow of awareness that wasn’t hers. Kara tried to catch it, but a barrier came crashing down, shoving her forcefully away.
Damn it.
She drew back her magic and watched him silently.
If he’d felt it, he gave no sign. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around the Shard.
Light flared against his palm, warm and alive.
She’d known he would, but to watch him take a Shard of the Arcanth felt like a physical blow.
The wind howled in response, rocks shuddering loose, the force of it nearly pushing her over.
The land reacting violently to what he’d done.
He didn’t even flinch. She stared as he tucked the Shard into the leather satchel he wore across his body – she guessed the other two were in there as well.
Now. Before you lose your nerve.
She forced her feet to move, taking one careful step forward. The gravel crunched under her boot; he spun fast, a storm of crimson magic already lighting his palms – ready to strike.
She raised her hands to show she was unarmed. “Sebastian – don’t! It’s me.”
His eyes met hers – and she saw warmth in them. Then shock. Recognition. Confusion warring with something that might have been hope. His magic wavered in his hands.
“Kara? What are you doing here?”
Kara thought of the plan. Of Henry waiting below.
Show him you’re not a threat.
Get close to him.
Put him under.
“They’ve sent people after you. To bring you back. I rode ahead.”
He looked around suspiciously, his magic still faintly alive in his palms. “Alone?”
She nodded. “They don’t know I came,” she lied.
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I–” she hesitated. It was harder now he was here. In front of her.
I can’t do this.
A muscle pulsed in his jaw.
“Shouldn’t you be planning your wedding?” he asked. “Or did perfect little Hale heir finally get bored?”
Her breath stuttered. “No. That’s not why. I needed to see you, Sebastian.”
“I’m a traitor, Kara. You shouldn’t be here.” He closed his magic down with a tight fist. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”
She looked at the satchel he wore. The Arcanth, taken from its rightful place. Thought of the Navyrian deaths at Saltmoor.
Our lands, our people have died because of him.
I have to do this.
“I don’t believe that. I won’t believe that,” she said truthfully.
His gaze didn’t leave hers, but his face was unreadable. She held out her hand. No magic. Just herself. He didn’t take it, but she didn’t drop it either.
“I just want to understand, Sebastian. Why you’re doing this. That’s the only reason I’m here,” she said. “They’re saying awful things about you... that you want to hurt us. I couldn’t believe it. Not about the man that saved my life. The man whose magic answers mine.”
He studied her face, and for a second, she thought he might answer.
If you have a good reason... maybe I don’t have to do this. Maybe I can walk away. Let you go.
Please, please have a good reason.
But he shook his head. “You don’t need to understand.”
“Please,” she said softly. He hesitated, eyeing her outstretched hand.
He took a step towards her.
“No, Kara. It would put you on the same pyre as me.”
Her heart twisted. The pyre she was leading him to. Was he protecting her, or was he really a traitor?
“Give me a reason not to believe what they’re saying,” she said. “If you have one, I could talk to my father – make the Council see it.”
His expression shifted with something that looked like trust. Guilt flared but she ignored it.
Tried not to think about the way her heart stumbled when he looked at her like that.
He wanted to tell her, she could see it, but he said nothing.
He finally closed the distance and took her hand.
Instantly, there was that familiar pull of their magic, the hum of his strength inside her.
She’d missed it.
They stood watching their emerald and crimson dance together for far longer than was safe, and his expression softened.
The dangerous warrior she’d chased was gone, replaced by the man who’d stood by her side at the Arcalon, who’d protected her, trusted her.
He let out a slow breath, as though a weight had been lifted.
“I have to do this alone, Kara,” he said, low and certain. “You can’t be involved. Go back to Caldris. He’s always been your safe choice.”
He tried to pull his hand away, but she held it fast, keeping him close. “I’m here with you now, aren’t I? That should tell you something.”
His studied her, his expression full of suspicion, but also something that looked a lot like longing. “What it tells me is that you’ve lost your mind, following me here,” he said.
Her throat burned with the words she couldn’t say. She nearly told him the truth. But instead she moved closer – and wrapped her arms around him. And he... oh Gods, he let her.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. A promise she couldn’t keep. A promise she was going to break.
You’re giving me no choice.
She wasn’t sure he would return the embrace – he’d stiffened under her touch.
So she just stood there holding him. Trying to think of anything but how right it felt.
At last, his arms came around her slowly, warily, like he couldn’t believe she was actually here.
With him. As if that didn’t make it worse.
The tension loosened from his shoulders, but it wasn’t relief – only exhaustion, and the resignation of someone who already knows they’re not making it out alive.
“It’s not going to be okay,” he said roughly in her ear. “But I have to do this, Kara.”
She told herself to wait. One more breath.
She wanted to stay like this. Pretend. She could hear his heartbeat – steady, trusting, as her magic hummed beneath her skin, eager, enjoying the closeness.
But the orders were there, pushing down at her until she couldn’t breathe under the pressure of it.
Her magic twisted away, resisting what she was about to make it do. It knew. Gods, it knew.
This was cruel. Dishonest. Unforgivable.
But she moved her hand anyway – slow and shaking, behind his back – and her magic unfurled in green tendrils from her palms. It was gentle at first, brushing along his arms, his shoulders.
But her magic fought back. It writhed angrily, the emerald darkening to a sickly olive green, cold and unfamiliar, recoiling from what she commanded of it.
But she made it obey. Like she’d practised.
Sebastian didn’t realise. Not until it was too late.
He frowned at the dark shapes floating over his shoulder, confusion lining his face.
“Kara?”
The tendrils snapped tight like a serpent – binding his limbs in glowing olive light.
He flinched. Crimson magic burst in a flare at his fingertips – heat brushing against her skin, wild and dangerous.
This was the Sebastian she knew – the one who always fought back.
She almost hoped he’d break free. But she didn’t hesitate.
Knew she couldn’t. Her spell bit deeper, dulling the flame, smothering his magic until it died completely.
His eyes widened as the numbness spread – as she stole feeling from him.
He looked down at his hands like they were someone else’s.
“I can’t feel them.” Panic bled into his voice.
He tried to step back. His body barely moved.
“What – what are you doing?” He sounded scared. She looked up at him, horrified by herself. And what she saw was the shocked disbelief of someone who had, for one reckless moment, actually thought he was safe.
“Kara... I can’t move.”
“I know,” she said, and her tears started to fall.
“Please.” His voice broke on the word. “Don’t do this,” he said as his knees hit the ground. She dropped with him, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle. “You don’t understand.”
His words nearly broke her.
Stop it! Stop it now!
But she didn’t. Her magic surged around him. The quicker the better. If she hesitated, she’d never–
He became heavy in her arms, and she caught him before he could fall, her whole body trembling as she knelt beside him. He looked up at her.
No. Please don’t look at me like that.
He was staring at her with a desperate hope that she would undo it. Like he still thought she might fix everything.