Page 56 of What Blooms from Death

Fucking hell.

She was beautiful, and all of a sudden, my mind was not where it should have been in that moment.

Regardless, I kept my voice and my appearance perfectly level. Perfectly regal in its smoothness, its confidence—just the way I’d been raised to perform. “So, you essentially convinced her that you had a chain tied around my neck? That you could drag me along wherever you wished, thanks to this cursed magicalbondwe seem to have developed between us.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t use those exact words. But yes.Essentially.”

“And what happens if I break the chain?”

She fixed those impossibly bright eyes of hers on me, unflinching, and said, “I have other methods of keeping wayward beasts under control without the need forchains.”

“Do you?” I couldn’t help myself. I licked my lips and leaned in closer. “I’d love a demonstration.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Don’t arouse my curiosity.”

“I’m not responsible for your arousal.”

“That depends entirely on your definition ofresponsible for, doesn’t it?”

Her breath audibly hitched at the low tone my voice had taken on. It was an unexpectedly intoxicating sound, drawing me even closer, like a sailor being drawn in by a siren’s song.

Too close.

Yet, just as it had before—just as I’d explained to her last night—the closeness led to clarity. I came within an arm’s-length of her, and the world seemed to still, to go silent save for the whisper of our breaths, the beating of our hearts, the hum of our magic.

She didn’t pull a knife on me, this time, but I forced myself not to move any closer, regardless.

I should not have been playing this game.

Then again, how could I know what effect shetrulyhad on my magic unless we experimented? The question was in mymind now, despite my best efforts to silence it—how strong could my power become if it melded more fully with hers? Strong enough to raise me from this hell? To carve a path back to the living world and confront the one sitting on my throne?

She didn’t agree to be the balancing act for your magic, I reminded myself.

And yet, she wasn’t moving away from me and that magic.

She looked ready to meet whatever spark I threw her way, and the thought enraptured me more than it should have. I didn’t trust myself to act on it.

It wasn’t a sensation I was used to feeling—that mistrust of myself. Again, all this chaos…

I fucking hated it.

“Those were her terms,” she said, defiantly. “If you want her to take us to your sword, you’re going to have to behave.”

I couldn’t help the smirk that crossed my face, knowing it would cause her lips to press into that alluring little pout once more. “I’ll do my best,” I told her, “but I’m not making any promises.”

Chapter Fourteen

Nova

Thalia ledthe way across a wide expanse of rocky, flat landscape she referred to as theWastelands. I trailed just behind her, while Aleksander and his company brought up the rear, with Zayn leading Uldrin—Thalia’s beastly horse, who was doing us the favor of carrying most of our bags.

My gaze kept trailing toward that horse, studying his red eyes that burned like twin embers in the darkness, and his sleek black body that rippled with shadowy energy. One of thescourgestallions, Thalia had informed me—steeds specifically bred to withstand this realm, their bloodlines allegedly infused with magic.

Phantom spent the first several hours racing circles around the creature, memorizing it, doing his best to shift his body into an imitation of it. I encouraged the practice; if he could master the form, it would likely provide a much smoother ride than what I’d experienced on the back of his canine shape yesterday.

All morning long, we’d been walking steadily toward the glow on the distant horizon—the one Aleksander had been staring at last night. The sky was lighter, now, making the faraway shineless obvious, but I still thought it looked like the hazy halo of a city’s collective lights.

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