Page 40 of Tethered In Blood

Why had I not seen it?

I ran through it again, this time at a slower pace: the beliefs and traditions the village had abandoned, the symptoms, the patterns, the color, and smell of the logs, and the magic beneath them. Magic was present in the forest. Right in front of me, she sliced her palm and allowed her blood to drip onto the vine. I stood beside her, watching. But I missed it.

How?

Magic always left a mark. Even when concealed, dulled, or buried beneath layers of deception, it left traces: a shift in the air, a pull in the wrong direction, the weight of the unseen pressing against reality.

And I hadn’t sensed a damn thing. My stomach twisted. Someone had concealed the magic so well that even my Fae blood hadn’t detected it.

The implications set my instincts on edge and made the nape of my neck prickle. I sighed, rubbing my face before returning to Quinn’s notes. She had pieced it together without magic, without knowing what to look for—just her relentless, maddening logic and refusal to let anything slip past her.

I despised relying on others. I didn’t trust it.

Relying on others signifies weakness and vulnerability, and grants someone the power to let you down or betray you. I learned early on that trusting the wrong person could cost everything.

Heat licked beneath my skin as I pushed away from the desk. Crossing the room, I braced my hands against the window ledge. Quinn was still outside, hauling another armful of firewood. The firelight flickered around her, reminding me of the soot smudged across her cheek and the damp strands of hair clinging to her temples. Ash streaked her apron, dirt scuffed her boots, and quiet determination set on her features.

She was reckless, headstrong, and exceedingly clever.

And I needed her.

I pushed the door open, stepping into the cool night air. The scent of damp soil and lingering smoke clung to the square, mingling with the distant murmur of laughter spilling from the tavern.

Neryth’s hooves scraped against the stone. His ears flicked back, nostrils flaring as he stretched his neck toward Quinn. Above us, a cluster of crows perched along the rooftops, watching without a single chirp.

Quinn stacked logs with a steady rhythm, her movements precise but stiff. The fire crackled beside her, casting flickering shadows across the dirt. I stood a short distance away, arms crossed over my chest. “Why didn’t you make the others help?”

She lifted another log onto the pile. “I don’t need another arrogant man telling me what to do.”

My brow twitched.

Another?

I huffed, prepared to snap back, but the slight tremor in her hands halted me. The soot smeared across her fingers concealed the fresh burns, the raw patches where her skin had turned red. And she still hadn’t wrapped her stupid, cut palm.

A sharp pang of irritation flared in my chest.

“Do you only care about everyone else?” I bit out. “Or do you just enjoy being a hypocrite?”

That made her pause. She turned to me with furrowed brows. “Excuse me?”

Nodding toward her hands, I stepped forward. “You nagged me about my shoulder getting infected, yet here you are—burned, bleeding, and toiling while the men you healed are off drinking.”

Neryth stomped his hoof, and a crow ruffled its feathers above us as the rooftop watchers shifted.

Quinn scowled, flexing her fingers as if she had just realized how raw they were. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, you’re fine. Of course. Silly me.”

Her glare intensified as she curled her fingers to hide the worst of it. I couldn’t decide what infuriated me more—the reckless self-neglect or the realization that I actually cared.

Quinn’s eyes flashed, and her shoulders squared as if she were ready for a fight. “I said I’m fine. It won’t hinder my work.”

I tipped my head back, searching for the patience that had been lost to her. A sigh escaped me as I locked eyes with her again. “Oh, well, if it won’t hinder your work,” I gestured to the wood, “by all means, go ahead. Bleed all over the firewood.”

She stepped closer, jabbing a grimy finger at my chest. “If you were truly concerned, perhaps you should have offered help earlier instead of throwing accusations at me.”

I had half a mind to toss her over my shoulder just to silence her. A muscle in my jaw twitched. I forced a slow breath through my nose, attempting to ease the sharp edge of my temper. “This isn’t about that,” I gritted.

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