CHAPTER 16 #2
Her lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come. How could she say that to him? After what she’d done? He wouldn’t believe it.
When she opened her eyes again, he was still staring.
Watching her reaction. Waiting for her to answer.
But her heart felt like it was in her throat, the guilt consuming her.
His expression darkened when he realised she wasn’t going to speak to him.
Finally, he turned away like he couldn’t bear to see her face anymore.
What did he see now when he looked at her?
A weapon in the hands of the Council. A liar. The one who was taking him to be killed. He only remembered her putting him to sleep, that much was clear. He didn’t know she’d been inside his mind. That she knew his reasons. Her hands twitched at her sides with the urge to reach for him.
He doesn’t know. Not yet.
The thought started quiet, like a whisper, an endless refrain in her head.
Let him go.
But it swelled, and started to scream at her. Relentless. Until she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
I have to let him go.
Her breath came faster. The Council’s orders pounded at the edges of her mind, the memory of Henry’s voice, the devastation Sebastian had caused.
This was treason.
This was madness.
If she didn’t untie him soon... Henry would return and she’d lose her chance.
But if she let him go, there would be no going back.
She gazed at Sebastian, wrists bound, powerless in front of her.
His head was bowed now, shoulders tensed and drawn tight.
Every inch of him spoke of mistrust, of secrecy.
A man who would do whatever it takes. People had died because of what he had done.
But now she’d seen his mind, seen what he believed was the truth.
He hadn’t taken the Shards for power or greed.
He’d taken them to stop something far worse.
Draknor’s invasion. The Arcanth itself had called to him.
But what if removing the Shards was the very thing that summoned the Drakens?
The Council had been warned about Draknor too – she’d overheard them – but they certainly didn’t seem willing to face it.
She wanted to trust Sebastian. Believe what he’d seen. That he was doing the right thing.
But if he was wrong...
It didn’t matter. She was already moving, her knees soaking on the wet ground, her body deciding before her mind. The choice wasn’t calculated. It wasn’t safe. It definitely wasn’t smart.
It was him.
There was only one choice she could live with. She’d been looking for an excuse all along.
Even if I’m wrong, I’d rather be wrong with him than right without him.
The moment she moved closer to him, Sebastian stiffened – his whole body jerking backwards when she reached for him.
The bonds bit deeper as he twisted, his wrists wrenching against them hard enough to burn his skin as crimson tried to form uselessly at his fingertips, the nightshade smothering his magic before it could take hold.
His eyes were wild now. He wasn’t used to this. Not being in control. Feeling weak.
“Don’t–” His voice was a harsh whisper. “Don’t put me under again.”
It wasn’t a command, or even a warning. It was a plea. Because they both knew: he couldn’t stop her if she tried. To hear him, the proud, unyielding Sebastian Thorne, forced to beg her – it stopped her dead in her tracks. She hated it.
No. No, I wouldn’t.
But of course that’s what he thought. Her hand lowered a fraction. She steadied her voice as best she could.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I thought that last time,” he spat.
She felt it. His fear. His humiliation. He was bracing for whatever magic she was about to force on him.
I did that. Made him afraid of me.
She didn’t say anything, but moved so she could reach his wrists. The moment she got close enough, he lunged. He hooked his bound hands over her chest and yanked her against him. Hard. Her back collided with his chest, the nightshade cord pressing down on her collarbone.
His breath came hot against her ear. “Untie me,” he growled. “Now, Healer. Or I’ll snap your neck before you can scream.”
Oh fuck.
Her pulse thundered, blood roaring in her ears, but for reasons that had nothing to do with fear. The heat of him against her. His arms wrapped around her like iron. He was strong, Gods, he was so strong, even without his crimson magic.
What is wrong with me?
She should be thrashing, clawing at his arms, begging for her life. He could kill her. She knew he could. But she didn’t fight.
Because she didn’t believe him.
Not one bit.
He was desperate. Cornered. But not dangerous.
Not to her.
“If I see one spark of emerald,” he warned, “I’ll kill you. I swear it.”
No, you won’t.
The thought hit her, sharp and unshakable. Like she knew it deep in her soul. She forced her body to relax into his hold and felt his heart racing against her back.
His grip faltered. “What the hells–?” he muttered, confusion bleeding into fury. “I mean it.” He tightened his hold against her throat just enough to make her gasp, to prove his point.
But she tilted her head, caught a glimpse of his shadowed profile in the firelight. “No, you don’t.”
“I don’t want to die, Kara,” he hissed. “So if it’s you or me–”
“No.”
Silence followed. A long, uncomfortable silence. But his arms had stopped pressing so hard, and the nightshade ropes on his wrists trembled against her neck. Then, finally he said shakily, “No? You’d rather see me burn, is that it?”
Her insides turned to ice. The way he said it, like he believed that was what she actually wanted. Like he couldn’t imagine anything else. More images burst into her mind: Sebastian bound to the stake, the flames catching, his eyes finding hers in the crowd–
I could never want that.
But she forced her voice to be level, firm.
“No, Sebastian, I wouldn’t. But I won’t be threatened into it. Let me go.”
His breathing came fast on her neck. But he didn’t move. Didn’t release her.
“You think I won’t do it?”
“I think you don’t want to,” she murmured.
“I should,” he said unevenly.
“I know.”
She had done this. He had every right to hate her, every reason to hurt her. But she didn’t plead. Didn’t flinch. She just waited.
“Damn you, Kara,” he muttered, and with a low curse he wrenched his bound arms back over her head, freeing her. She turned immediately and took his hands in hers, tugging the first knot loose.
Sebastian stared down at her, incredulous. “What are you doing?”
She met his gaze. His blue eyes, so piercing and confused, held hers with a quiet intensity that she got lost in. It would be so easy to forget everything – the orders, the Shards, the consequences.
“I was going to let you go anyway,” she said lightly. “Before you got all dramatic.”
His expression turned to one of disbelief. “Dramatic?”
“Yes, threatening to kill me? I’d call that dramatic.”
His eyes bore into her as she worked and it made her neck prickle uncomfortably. She forced her gaze to remain on his wrists.
“You’d untie me. Just like that? Even after–”
“Yes.” She risked a glance up at him. “I made a mistake.”
“Aren’t you worried I might hurt–”
“No,” she said, calm and certain.
He fell quiet then, looking thoroughly confused and a little indignant.
And beneath it all, she was sure, he was shaken.
Because he’d expected her to be afraid. And she hadn’t been.
Not even a little. The longer she touched the nightshade, the more deeply the deadening chill seeped into her, and her magic started to dull.
She hated the feeling. Hated it even more that they’d used it on him.
It took longer than she’d expected, Henry had tied them well, each loop pulled tight and stubborn.
The silence between them made every second feel longer, the awkward closeness pressing on her.
Finally, she pulled him free.
She threw the nightshade wraps to the ground, not hiding her disgust. For a heartbeat, he knelt there perfectly still, staring at his unbound hands.
Like he couldn’t believe they were actually his again.
Then his gaze locked on hers. Neither of them even breathed.
She thought he was going to say something but then–
His magic erupted.
Crimson light flared wild and frenzied, twisting like uncontrolled flames around his hands.
Before she could step back, or even think, he was on his feet, moving faster than she’d thought possible.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her upwards in one fluid motion.
She gasped, stumbling into him. Not from pain – his grip was firm but not cruel – but from the suddenness.
The sheer strength of him when he was no longer bound.
“Why would you do that? I’m a traitor,” he hissed.
“Not to me.”
He ripped his hands away from her so fast it was as if she’d burnt him. He stepped back, his crimson glow stuttering uncertainly. “Then why... why did you put me under in the first place?”
She swallowed, her throat tight. “The Council ordered me to capture you. To bring you back.”
His expression twisted.
“But it was wrong,” she rushed on. “I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry, Sebastian.”
His gaze narrowed. “What changed your mind?”
There was something dangerous in his voice now. Controlled. Cold.
Your mind.
“Something did. Tell me the truth,” he demanded.
Kara’s hands came up, palms open, defensive. “I know I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Done what?” he asked sharply.
“I...” she faltered, then forced the words out. “I went into your mind.”
The silence that followed was absolute. His expression didn’t change at first. It just... froze. She thought, maybe for a second, that he’d understand. That she’d had to do it.
“You did... what?” he asked, his voice low but laced with fury.
“W-whilst you were asleep,” she stammered.
“Since when could a healer do that?”
“Henry... he showed me.”
“You had no right,” he thundered.
“I wanted the truth.” Her voice was small. “I needed the truth, Sebastian.”