CHAPTER 28
SEBASTIAN’S CONFESSION
Karalynna Hale demonstrates exceptional magical aptitude. No injury presented has been beyond her ability to treat.
– Hale Healing Academy, Fifth Year Student Assessment
They rode until the world blurred.
No direction. No plan.
Sebastian’s only thought was escape. To get away from the soldiers, the screams that echoed in his head.
He rode through forests, over rocky paths – vaguely towards sunrise.
He took them down forgotten trails, through streams to mask their scent.
He didn’t dare stop. He was badly injured, and he knew it.
He’d stopped casting crimson now – had to – and the pain was getting worse with each mile.
If even a few Thorne soldiers caught up, he wouldn’t be able to fight them off. And he had to keep her safe.
Kara.
She sat in front of him, head resting on his shoulder. But she was too still. Too quiet.
“You okay?” he called down to her.
“Fine.” Her voice was faint. Strained.
Not fine.
He pushed the valmare harder, scanning for shelter. They needed to stop. Needed to rest. But not here – not yet. Not until he was sure they weren’t being followed.
Another mile. Then another.
But without warning her weight shifted. She slumped forward. Her breathing shallow.
“Kara?”
No answer.
Ice shot through his veins. He tightened his arm around her to stop her from falling, panic rising. He yanked the reins hard and pushed the valmare off the road into a thicket of brambles and bushes.
Shelter – I need shelter.
He spotted a half-collapsed barn tucked against the hillside, about a mile away.
Weather-beaten. Abandoned.
It’ll do.
He rode as fast as he dared without risking unseating her. He pulled the valmare inside, then slid off the saddle and reached for her. She didn’t move.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Kara. Wake up–”
She sagged against him, unconscious or damn close. Her dress was covered in blood. Too much.
No – fuck – I should have stopped sooner.
He carried her inside, stumbling. He dropped to his knees and laid her down gently on the hay-strewn floor. She was ice-cold. Her face tinged grey. She looked–
Don’t think it.
“Kara, open your eyes for me. Please.”
He ripped her dress at the torso to look at the wound. It was deep. She’d been bleeding out silently. She was breathing, but it was weak and shallow.
“Answer me, Kara.”
Not a sound.
He shook her. “Kara!”
Her eyes fluttered, a fraction. “S’bastian...?”
“I’m here,” he choked out, cradling her face. “You’re okay. Stay with me, Kara, please.”
Her eyes closed again and he shook her once. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare leave me.”
Her lips parted slightly. “Cold...”
“You need to heal,” he said quickly. “Use your magic.”
“Can’t,” she murmured. “I can’t feel it–”
“Take mine,” Sebastian said, without hesitation. He grabbed her hand and pressed both of their palms forcibly over her wound.
Please work. Gods, if you can hear me–
His magic flared, crimson and hot, and he searched for hers. The emerald reacted – he felt it – it wanted to answer him. But it was dormant. Blocked from days in nightshade.
“Come on,” he urged. “Wake up. I know you’re there.”
And slowly, like a match catching, it flickered. Just a pulse of her – green and pure. He pushed his own strength into it, and hers surged weakly to meet it.
“Come on,” he growled desperately. “Take my strength. Heal.”
A soft golden glow spread under his palm. Their magic wasn’t dancing... but fused. The golden light knitted itself around the wound as he watched – awestruck. The skin closed where it touched, but it left a fiery pink scar in its wake.
Her breathing eased immediately.
Pure relief filled him.
“Kara,” Sebastian whispered, brushing hair from her face. “You did it.”
But her eyes fluttered once – twice – then closed.
Her head fell back in his arms.
He froze.
“Kara?”
Nothing.
His heart nearly stopped. “Kara, wake up–”
He shifted her gently, holding her close against him. He put shaking fingers to her throat.
A pulse. Weak, but steady. Just unconscious.
He let out a trembling breath, and leaned against the barn wall, Kara still in his arms. He kept his sword within reach and began his vigil. He didn’t move. Not when his muscles cramped. Not when his ribs screamed and his breathing became painful. Not when the cold seeped into his bones.
He didn’t sleep.
He just watched the rise and fall of her chest. Memorising the lines of her face, cataloguing every detail as if it were the last time he’d ever see it.
I love you.
Gods, he did.
But if he said it out loud – allowed the words to be heard – it would become real. How could he live with it if he told her and she turned away from him?
And she would.
When she learnt of the things he’d ordered during the wars, the things he’d done with his own hands. Back then he’d told himself it was duty. His father’s sword. But now?
Every Thorne he’d struck down, every sailor that had drowned when he took the Water Shard.
Those weren’t orders.
Those were his choices.
His crimes.
He looked down at his hands. Still covered in Thorne blood. Steady now but hours ago they’d been instruments of death. Weapons. And she’d seen it all. Surely, a healer like her, a pacifist, would run from it.
But still–
She’d said it. That she loved him. But that version of him... it was a fantasy. Nothing more.
He needed to ask her. Needed to know if it’d been real. Needed to know if she meant what she’d said.
If she still did.
Even though he was certain she shouldn’t.
Kara woke with a gasp, dragging air through her lungs like she’d been drowning.
There were arms around her.
What – no – get off me!
In pure panic, she threw herself sideways, tearing away from the grip on her. A raw sound escaped her throat.
Where am I?
It was dark. Hay. Blood. The cell–
She was still in the cell–
No. Not the cell. Somewhere else. Someone was reaching for her – grabbing her. She lashed out wildly. Mindless. Screaming. Her fist connected with something solid. The figure let out a sharp grunt of pain.
“Ow – Kara, stop–”
She scrambled back, hitting a wall, her side burning, her bound wrists – no, not bound, free – came up, clawing at the air between her and–
A figure. Dark. Moving towards her.
Cade.
“Stay away!” The words ripped out of her, raw and terrified. “Don’t touch me–”
“Kara, it’s me–”
That voice.
Wrong. It was the wrong voice. Not Cade’s sneer. Something else. Someone–
“Kara, please, it’s Sebastian–”
Sebastian? The name didn’t make sense. He was dead. Cade had told her.
The pyre. He’d burned.
No. Wait. Cade had lied.
She blinked hard against the dizziness. Her vision was swimming. The figure knelt a few feet away, but they weren’t coming closer. They had their hands raised, palms out. Waiting.
“It’s okay,” the voice said again. Measured. Patient. “You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She tried to calm her breathing, but it came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to break through her ribs.
Not Cade. Not the cell.
Sebastian was alive. In front of her.
“Sebastian?” she stuttered.
“Yeah. I’m here.”
She threw herself into his arms with a broken cry. “Sebastian–”
She let herself feel the weight of him, the strength. She wasn’t bound. She wasn’t alone.
He’s not dead. He’s here.
Her tears fell, thick and fast. “I thought–” she choked. “I thought I was back there.”
“I know,” he said, but his voice broke. His hand hovered at first as though he was scared to touch her, scared he’d hurt her. Then his fingers rested lightly on her back. “You’re safe. You’re with me.”
He pulled her down onto his chest and the dam broke.
The iron control she’d held during their escape shattered.
A sob broke free. Then another. Days of fear, pain, and grief – all of it – poured out.
Her fingers gripped his torn tunic like he was a life raft in a storm.
She pressed herself against him. Trying to get closer. She needed to be closer.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” she gasped. The words tumbled out – broken. “I thought–” she sobbed again. “He said you’d burned. I thought it was true. I thought I’d lost you.”
He tensed underneath her, but his hands stayed gentle as he rubbed her back. “Never. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
The memories of that morning came back in fragments. He’d rescued her. Fought through who knew how many soldiers to get to her. Saved her from the pyre... from Cade.
He did all that, for me.
“Thank you,” she whispered raggedly into his chest. “Thank you for saving me.”
“Don’t.” The word was harsh. Unexpected. She looked up, startled. But he wouldn’t look at her. His gaze was fixed on somewhere past her shoulder.
His face–
There was blood on his temple. Bruising all down his jaw. Exhaustion on every line of him. He looked like he had been through hell to get her out.
“You were only there because of me,” he said, voice tight. “Please don’t thank me–”
“It wasn’t your fault–”
“It was.” The words came out flat. Final. “Every second you were in there. Every time he–” He broke off, his entire body trembling. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop that,” she ordered, tears still falling. “You saved me. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He just held her tighter, his breathing uneven. Gradually, she felt something else – gentle kisses on her hair.
He’s kissing me.
It suddenly dawned on her that after everything he’d done for her, she’d woken up and hit him.
Oh, well done, Kara.
“I didn’t mean to hit you.”
“You didn’t.”
“I think I did.”
A small laugh rumbled in his throat. “It’s fine. I’ll allow it.”
She smiled slightly. He was watching her like she might disappear if he looked away. Like she was... everything. Heat flooded her cheeks. She glanced away, biting her lip, suddenly fascinated by her hands.
“You didn’t sleep?” she asked.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“How long was I...?”
“Hours. Most of the day.” He cleared his throat. “You healed the wound. Then passed out. Again.” His mouth twitched. “It was very dramatic.”