I didn’t want tea. I didn’t want to sit. Every part of me screamed to move, to tear through the house, to rip up floorboards if I had to, to find Aerynnow.
But my legs wouldn’t carry me. Fear locked them. Dread dragged me down, heavy as stone, until all I could do was follow Colette.
“Something stronger,” I muttered.
“It’s just past midday,” she said, then paused. Mymouth had gone dry, my lips cracked from pressing them together too long. I could feel the tremor in my jaw, the way my cheek twitched when I tried to hold it still. The mask was breaking, a lifetime of fractures I’d tried to swallow spilling through anyway.
She must have noticed my face. “Right. I suppose the moment calls for it.” She pulled down a bottle, honey-colored in the light, and poured each glass half full. Malachi was first to break the silence, his voice clipped. “You must have left before the Keepers were bound to Nyxarra.”
Colette nodded. “Long before.”
“Are there any other Keepers here? In Synnex?”
Her lips pressed thin. “As far as I know, I’m the only one.”
My chest tightened. Too much. Too much had happened. In the month, I had left Aeryn, been captured, bound, betrayed, kissed, broken, remade. I had fought shadows, spilled blood, felt power tear through me like it belonged. And still, it felt as though Aeryn was slipping through my hands.
I lifted the glass and swallowed it all in two gulps. The liquor burned, sharp and sweet, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
The cup shattered in my grip before I realized I’d clenched too hard. Glass shards fell across the table. Blood welled bright against my skin.
Colette shot up, grabbed a cloth, and hurried back, only to freeze when she saw my palm. The gash had already knit together, pink and whole.
Her breath caught. “What did you do to her?” she whispered at Malachi.
“I did nothing.” His voice was iron.
Her eyes went to me. My hand. Whole. Only the blood remained.
No use dancing around the truth. “I’m bonded to Kaelith.” Thewords tasted like ash. “I have to return, so he’ll give me what I need to save Aeryn.”
I pushed back from the table, the chair scraping hard against stone. I stood, but the room tilted, the rafters spinning, the hearthlight breaking into stars.
“I need to get back to Aeryn,” I breathed.
The floor fell away. Dark pressed in, thick as velvet. I stumbled, caught myself, and when I looked up—he was there.
Kaelith.
White hair like spilled moonlight, sharp mouth curved as though he’d been waiting. Shadows moved at the hem of his coat, restless, alive, bending the space around him.
“I wondered when you’d dream again,” he said softly, almost pleased. “And if I’d be able to walk with you.”
The sound of his voice rippled through the dark. Familiar. I hated how it felt like a hand on my skin.
“Get out,” I snapped, though my breath shook.
His smile sharpened. “But you called me, nýchta. Every time you close your eyes, you call me. You’ve not let me in, though. Such a tease. But now—” He stepped closer, shadows tightening with him. “Here we are.”
He studied me for a long moment. Then his head tilted, amused. “I felt you today. You tore the air open with your fear and your fire—of course I felt it. The bond flares when you lose control.”
My gaze dragged upward, against every instinct that told me to look away. Kaelith’s face filled the dark, close enough that the line of his mouth felt like a hand against my skin. The bond thrummed at my throat, answering him before I could deny it.
He smiled, slow and cruel. “They looked at you with fear, didn’t they? And you loved it. The power. The hunger.”
“I didn’t?—”
“Oh, but you did.” His voice slid silk-smooth, merciless. “And Aeryn felt it too. The surge of it. He always does. He’s so…fragile.”