Page 61 of Too Dangerous To Die

Ivenna studies her with cool disdain. “You carry her essence. You wear Medea’s skin. You are hers, whether you admit it or not.”

A quiet falls over the gathering. One of the younger Purna shifts uneasily. They all feel it—the press of something ancient in the air.

A pressure building like a storm behind glass. It's me. The longer they keep these chains on me, the more unstable I become. I can feel the core of my body tremble, the cracks widening like fault lines beneath the surface.

“You shouldn’t have bound me,” I mutter through clenched teeth.

Ivenna flicks a look my way. “You shouldn’t have existed.”

My mouth twists into a smile that’s more threat than humor. “I still do.”

Their attention shifts then, just for a moment, as they begin discussing something else. Something older. Sacred. The words reach my ears—quiet, half-whispers.

“The artifact... it’s close,” one says. “We follow the leyline to the vault.”

“It was hers, wasn’t it?” another asks. “Medea’s?”

“It was hers to wield. The Wraithbinder. The artifact that sealed the blood-pacts and unsealed them. It could control them all if it’s real.”

A fire ignites in my gut, one hotter than magic.Wraithbinder.

That name, I remember it—half-buried in ancient memory, in forgotten wars and burning cities. I remember her raising it like a god-chosen blade. I remember what it did. What it undid.

It doesn’t just control the Wraithborn.

It breaks the contracts.

And if that artifact still exists—if these coven-witches are hunting it—then it could sever Medea’s claim on Nora. Or...

Or enslave her all over again.

I close my eyes. Beneath my ribs, the hollow where a heart should be throbs with a different kind of pain.

I can't let them find it.

Not before I do.

Not before I decide what must be done.

Nora’s eyes catch mine again. There’s a question in them. Always the same question:What aren’t you telling me? What are they talking about?

And the answer, always the same:Everything.

But not forever.

Tonight, I will get free.

I will make a move.

And gods help them all if they stand in my way.

29

NORA

They circle me like wolves. They separated me form Rhaegar, and I can’t help but worry.

Matriarch Ivenna’s voice is smooth as silk pulled taut over a blade, her eyes shining with power as she takes a measured step forward. “You’re confused. We understand. The magic in your blood is ancient. Dangerous. But we can help you, Nora. We’re the only ones who can.”

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