Page 43 of Tethered In Blood

The man across from him smirked and leaned in. “But imagine her tied up. Held down. The look she gave Valdier, but it’s your hand on her jaw.” He released a low groan. “The way her eyes would roll back?”

My hand released the blade before my mind caught up. Steel whispered through the air, sliced past the bastard’s ear so close it severed a few strands of hair, and buried deep into the wooden beam behind him. Suffocating silence followed. The kind that thickened the air, pressed against the ribs, and squeezed the breath from lungs.

Chairs scraped against the floor as they rose to their feet, hands gripping the edges of the table. The casual arrogance they had displayed moments ago cracked and crumbled into a far more satisfying fear—anger. I met their eyes while my fingers tapped against the wood. Eachthunkagainst the table served as a warning. Their chests heaved rapidly and shallowly while mine remained steady.

The heat in my blood cooled and intensified, becoming focused and quieter. A searing sting burned through my vision as silver blurred my peripherals. Their eyes widened, and their jaws slackened as recognition dawned on their faces.

They realized they hadn’t been speaking in the presence of another knight. Not a man who would let their words pass as harmless filth, nor another brute who laughed it off, shrugged it off, or sat by idly.

No.

They realized that I wasn’t a man at all.

14

Eden

THEDOORCREAKEDshutbehind me, sealing me in under the weight of my exhaustion. The inn room was dimly lit, and the single candle on the wooden table flickered against the walls, casting shadows that danced in my peripheral vision. The smell of charred wood and smoke clung to my clothes, becoming woven into my skin and hair. It reminded me of the fires I had spent the night battling. The contaminated logs had burned fast, taking with them any remnants of the ailment that had been festering within them. I had made sure of it.

My lungs ached, each breath shallow and stinging as if the embers still smoldered in my chest. I wiggled my fingers, wincing at the sharp bite of pain. The burns on my hands and forearms were raw, the skin swollen and red where the logs had been too hot, too close. They should heal. Pain was a temporary thing, an inconvenience. It only hindered my work if I let it.

‘Do you only care about everyone else?’

Of course, I did. It was my responsibility.

But that wasn’t the point.

I had sent him to the tavern to gather information he couldn’t get elsewhere. The men in metal costumes were fools. They were puppets dressed in gilded armor, who pretended to hold authority. They knew nothing of the sickness that had been ravaging Silverfel. It was a lie, an excuse to remove him from the smoke, away from the rot and ruin. The thought of him breathing it in, with his lungs blackened by the same filth I had willingly inhaled, was unbearable.

Meanwhile, I was scorched, exhausted, sore, and foolish for enduring it. I suppressed the thought before it could take root and turn dangerous.

The room was empty. He wasn’t back yet.

Good.

I needed a moment to breathe, to let the tremor in my hands fade, and to push away whatever had burrowed into my core since our argument. It was his expression in the woods. The way his eyes flickered silver so suddenly, so unnaturally, that I froze in place, caught in the shift for the briefest moment.

It was unprecedented. The silver wasn’t a trick of the light, a reflection, or a fleeting illusion. It had consumed his irises, swallowing the dark in an instant. The air had changed, becoming heavy and charged with an invisible pressure against my skin.

It should have scared me. Something in me expected it to unnerve me, but it intrigued me.

Despite the warning in his gaze and the sharp edge of his demeanor, I pushed closer instead of pulling away. The emotionless gleam in his eyes should have felt threatening, yet I couldn’t look away. I grinned, though nervously. I stood at the precipice of the vast and unknowable, a realm that was both dangerous and fascinating.

I was too tired to wrestle with whatever had shifted between us and too tired to ignore it.

My fingers found the open cut on my palm and traced over it, pressing just hard enough to sting. It was the same cut he had used to accuse me, the one I hadn’t bothered to heal. Oberon regarded me as if I were reckless. Maybe I was. Maybe I wanted to be. The pain was grounding, tangible amid the exhaustion that weighed on me. I couldn’t let myself dwell on those thoughts.

I had a job to finish.

Dragging my heavy limbs, I crossed the room to the basin in the corner. Age clouded the mirror above it; its glass was warped and streaked, but that didn’t soften my reflection. My face was hollow-eyed and worn, with smudges of soot clinging to my skin. Beneath the grime, my complexion was pallid, dark circles heavy beneath my eyes, and strands of damp hair stuck to my forehead.

I appeared as if I had walked through the Veil.

Focusing on the basin, my hands dipped in the icy water. The sting was immediate. I bit my cheek and scrubbed, watching as the water darkened and swirled with remnants of fire and blood.

The burns were severe. They weren’t the worst I had ever experienced, but they were serious enough that I should have treated them hours earlier.

Searching through my satchel, I took out a small tin and flipped it open with my thumb. The familiar smell of comfrey and beeswax filled the air. I scooped out a small amount and spread it over the burns on my palms. The moment it touched the rawest burns, an involuntary hiss escaped my lips. The balm worked quickly, sinking into my skin and soothing the worst of the sting. But it hadn’t eased the deeper ache.

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