CHAPTER 29 #2
She glanced up, and caught him gazing intently at her bare back.
A slow smile curved her lips. “Staring are we, Thorne?”
He didn’t even try to deny it.
“Oh, definitely,” he said, stepping forward to wrap a possessive arm around her waist. “You’re beautiful.”
He kissed her shoulder once before stepping back – reluctantly – and reaching for the food.
He tossed her a wedge of bread and cured meat, then passed her a canteen of water she assumed he’d filled from the stream nearby.
She caught it all one-handed as she pulled her new dress into place and sat down.
It fit perfectly. Light cotton that hugged her just right, soft against her skin.
The navy cloak lay beside her, warm and comforting.
The man paid attention.
“You need to eat,” he said gruffly. “Get your strength back up.”
“Yes, mother,” she muttered around a bite of bread.
He sat next to her with his own food, his hand brushing her arm lightly. She watched him practically inhale the bread, on his third piece before she’d even had one. He looked up and eyed the dress.
“I have good taste.”
She blushed and kissed him quickly on his cheek. “Yes, you do. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, shrugging.
“How long did it take you to pick it?”
He looked sheepish. “About thirty minutes.”
Her jaw dropped. “You stood in front of someone’s washing line for thirty minutes?”
“I had to make sure no one saw me,” he said quickly.
Kara tried – really tried – not to laugh, but failed spectacularly.
“There were a lot of options!” he said defensively.
She laughed again. “I could get used to this.”
“What?”
“You.” She smiled. “Taking care of me.”
A real smile spread across his face – not a smirk, not a mask. Genuine. Open. And it made him look so damn beautiful, it actually hurt.
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Until Sebastian looked over at her. “We could run.”
Her breath caught. “Run?”
He shifted, just enough so she had to meet his eyes. There was no teasing there – only raw, determined seriousness. “The Southern Isles. It’s peaceful there now. Or further, if we have to. I won’t lose you, Kara. We leave the Shards, walk away, let Vallenna choke on its own fate.”
She sat up slightly, heart pounding. “Sebastian–”
“I mean it.” His jaw clenched, fury flashing. “They nearly burned you alive. They cheered for it. Vallenna doesn’t deserve you. Doesn’t deserve saving. Why should we bleed for them?”
The conviction in him both terrified and tempted her. She could see it so clearly – the two of them disappearing across the sea. A cottage on a cliff. A garden. Freedom. His hand intertwined with hers, the sun on their skin. No more running. No more pyres.
We could be happy.
But then came the faces.
Her mother. Alys. Sienna.
The children in Hale who had never asked for a war, who only wanted to grow up safe.
She sat up straighter, the bread in her lap forgotten.
“You know I can’t,” she said quietly.
He tensed. “You could.”
“No,” she said, and this time her voice was stronger. “I won’t.”
He didn’t look away. There was so much there in his eyes. Fury, grief, fear. Love.
“You don’t owe them anything, Kara,” he said, voice hard. “They’re hunting us right now. Would happily see both of us burn.”
“If we run, Sebastian, what happens to my family? Our friends? Your sisters? The people who had nothing to do with my trial, nothing to do with the Council. Don’t let your anger condemn them.”
He breathed hard, actually trembling with it, the tendons in his hand tight beneath her grip. “I nearly didn’t make it to you in time, Kara,” he said hoarsely.
I know.
Kara hesitated, the memory overpowering. She forced it away and finally asked the question that had been burning at the edge of her thoughts since the moment he’d arrived in her cell.
“How did you get to me in time, Sebastian?” she asked. “How did you escape?”
He tensed, if possible, even more. There was something unreadable in his face. He let out a slow, shaky breath.
“My father,” he said finally.
Kara gaped at him. “Your father?”
He nodded, the movement small, reluctant. “He left a dagger in my room. Told me not to waste the chance. Took me hours to cut myself free from the nightshade.”
“He–” She could barely process it. “What?”
He looked down and said roughly, “I told him about the vision, when he questioned me in my cell. We were right – about what you overheard – the Council had been given a prophecy about Draknor. He didn’t share it but it was enough that he believed me...
about the Arcanth, the Shards... everything.
” He took a deep breath. “He said he couldn’t act on it himself.
Or go against the Council. Not without risking my sisters. Or war.”
“He committed treason,” she said, still processing his words. “He let you go.”
Sebastian gave a harsh, humourless laugh. “Not quite. He let me climb down a two-hundred-foot tower with no ropes, no magic and nearly get myself killed, if that counts.”
But the edge in his voice was gone. Replaced with something quieter. Something like grief.
“He still left me to do this alone, even though he knows it has to be done,” he said. “But he gave me the chance to save you. So it matters.”
Kara reached for his hand. “It does.” She hesitated. “My father gave me a choice too.”
Sebastian jerked his head towards her, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“He said... if I claimed you forced me into helping, used your magic to control me, the charges would be dropped. I would’ve been free.”
He went still. The silence between them became almost uncomfortable.
“Why didn’t you take it?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
His voice came rough, angry. “You should have, Kara!”
“I wouldn’t lie. Not about that. I wasn’t going to make you out to be a monster–”
Sebastian’s free hand curled into a fist at his side. “I wouldn’t have cared about that – my fate was sealed anyway. At least you would have survived!”
“I chose you,” she said firmly. “And I chose the truth.”
He shook his head at her, aghast. “You were going to burn for–” He stopped, took a deep breath. “You are completely insane, Kara Hale.”
“Maybe. But so are you. So we match.” She smiled faintly. Then, more seriously, she said, “I told them everything, Sebastian. I had to try and warn them. The vision – Draknor. All of it. But they didn’t believe me.”
“Of course they didn’t,” he muttered. “Stupid bastards.”
“He abstained,” Kara said. “My father. At my trial. Wouldn’t vote either way. Couldn’t bring himself to find me guilty but as soon as I was disobedient–”
“He wouldn’t stand with you,” Sebastian finished.
“No. He wouldn’t.” She waited for the pain of it to hit her. And it did. But it was softer than she expected.
Sebastian was quiet for a long moment. “You know, the more I hear about your father,” he said finally, “the more I want to kill him.”
Kara didn’t answer.
His voice dropped lower, venomous. “They almost had you executed, Kara. They deserve what’s coming.”
“And they almost did the same to you,” she said fiercely. “But we’re still here. And whilst we are, we stand. Not for the ones who would see us burn – but for everyone else, the ones who can’t fight back.”
He searched her face – his own wild with conflict – the desperate urge to choose her and damn everyone else. But slowly, some of his fury ebbed. He sighed. “Hells, Kara, you know I’d follow you anywhere.”
“We’ll need a plan. The Fire Shard will be heavily protected now. They’ll be expecting us to go for it,” she said.
Sebastian pulled a face. “Every soldier in Thorne will be guarding the routes in now. I don’t think fighting through them is an option, even for me.”
“So what do you recommend?”
“I could send a hawk to my father. Ask for information about the guard rotations,” he suggested. “It might be enough to slip through.”
“Would he do that?” she asked, surprised.
“I don’t know how far he’s willing to go,” Sebastian said. “But it’s our best chance.”
It was the only plan they had. So they agreed to stay one more night.
There were no more signs of soldiers, and Kara had not yet fully recovered.
A heaviness sat in her chest, and her mind relived Cade’s laughter over and over, smelling smoke when she closed her eyes.
Some wounds her magic couldn’t reach. The kind that lived in her mind, not her body.
It would take time.
It was better, by far, when she was in Sebastian’s arms. He watched her carefully, his presence doing more than any magic could.
When her hands started shaking, he took them in his, pulled her closer.
Told her she was safe, held her until she believed it.
He’d ask what she needed. Didn’t push when she couldn’t answer.
Made sure she was warm. Checked if she was hungry, thirsty. Constant, quiet care. He never stopped.
She tried to do the same for him. One of the reasons she wanted to stay was so that the man would actually get some sleep. He had been running on fury and fear for too long. The shadows under his eyes had begun to look like permanent bruises.
Their escape from the City had taken them east, into Sorrel territory. Luckily, Sorrel hawks were easy to come by. Tomorrow, they would send one north to Sebastian’s father, and begin a slow and careful journey back towards the Thorne–Fatàn border.
And pray Tobias responded.
If not, well, neither of them had talked about that yet.
Instead, that night, they lay in each other’s arms, legs intertwined.
Laughed together. Stole kisses, just because they could.
Watched their magic dance until she couldn’t tell where hers ended and his began.
It eased her shakiness. His magic didn’t just make her stronger; it made her steadier.
And through it all, one thought was louder than all the rest:
I love this man.
Not just because he saved her – though he had.
Not just because he’d risked his own life, his freedom – everything – though he’d done that too.