Page 36 of Blood Currents
“Good,” Keane rasped suddenly, his voice rough with sleep.
We all turned as he pushed himself upright on the couch, Wisp lifting her silver head with concern.Her fox ears flicked toward the sound of his movement.His eyes were clearer than they’d been since his uncle’s corruption had taken hold, and when his gaze found mine, I saw no accusation in it.Only trust.
“Because we’re running out of time,” he continued.“Uncle’s urgency—it wasn’t just about me.He’s planning something bigger.”
“You should be resting,” Marigold said instantly, already moving to steady him.Her hands found his shoulders without hesitation, gentle but sure, and I watched the easy intimacy of the gesture with something that felt like drowning.
“I’ve rested enough.”He glanced at me, his eyes clear in a way that made my stomach twist.“Elio’s right, but we can’t wait too long.”
My stomach sank.He still trusted me.Still believed in my judgment, my capability, mygoodness.
And I’d betrayed him with a perfect smile.
“I’ll have the charms ready tomorrow,” I said, clinging to the promise like it could erase what I’d done.
“I’ll take first watch once they’re ready,” Cyrus said.
“And I’ll check the library for Guard Diana Parker’s background,” Marigold added.
“Be careful,” I said, sharper than I meant to.
Her eyes flicked to mine, flat and unreadable, before looking away.
Keane swayed as he tried to stand, and both Marigold and I reached for him at the same time.For a heartbeat, our magic brushed together—my illusions silver-bright and desperate, her necromancy dark as winter earth, his corrupted portals flickering like dying stars.
The harmony was still there—buried under betrayal and guilt and the weight of impossible choices but still there.Our magic recognized each other, sang to each other, tried to weave together into something stronger than any of us could manage alone.
I used to think that harmony was dangerous because of what my parents had taught me—that connection was weakness, that caring was liability, that love was just another tool for control.
Now I realized it was dangerous for an entirely different reason.It made me want things I couldn’t have.Made me believe in possibilities that my choices had already destroyed.
“You need more rest,” Marigold murmured, guiding Keane gently back to the couch with hands that trembled only slightly.
“Not forever,” I added, quieter this time.“But for now, you’re safer here than anywhere.”
Keane met my gaze.“Thank you.”
My throat went dry.Zhang had once looked at me with that same trust before I’d destroyed him on my parents’ orders.Before I’d learned that loyalty could be a weapon.
“We should get some rest,” Cyrus said, breaking the silence.
“I’ll stay,” Marigold said softly, already settling more comfortably on the floor in front of Keane’s couch.She glanced at him with obvious affection and then at Cyrus with something that might have been gratitude.“Make sure he sleeps properly.”
I opened my mouth to offer to stay as well, the words forming automatically.But they died in my throat when she still didn’t look my way, when her body language made it clear that my presence wasn’t wanted or needed.
The rejection was quiet, polite, and absolute.
“Let’s go,” Cyrus said, not unkindly.But the understanding in his amber eyes was worse than judgment would have been.He knew.Maybe not the specifics, but he understood that something fundamental had shifted, that whatever trust Marigold had placed in me was cracked beyond easy repair.
I followed him out of the sanctuary, my chest hollow as a drum.Echo’s scales flickered with colors that matched my shame—silver guilt bleeding into murky brown self-loathing.The familiar weight of performance settled back onto my shoulders like a cloak, but tonight it felt heavier than usual.Suffocating.
Behind us, the sanctuary door clicked shut with soft finality.
Cyrus walked beside me in silence as we made our way down the stairs.He didn’t ask questions, didn’t offer easy reassurances, didn’t pretend everything was fine.His quiet presence was both comfort and judgment—a reminder of how much simpler honesty could be.
At the junction where our paths would split, he stopped.His flames flickered faintly, Ember shifting his wings against his shoulder.
“She deserves the truth, Elio,” he said finally.His voice wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t forgiving either.“Don’t wait so long that she stops wanting it from you.”
