Page 29 of The Dark Mage
A blood vow.Ren’wyn’s eyebrows rose.Blood vows were binding, even in death.If she died before its fulfillment, her spirit would remain tethered to it.Master Lilith’s warning sounded in her mind:Consider a blood vow as you would consider a blade—carefully and only if youmust.
She glanced at Fael.His brow was slick with sweat, his sword arm shaking.The strength of his power radiated like forged steel, holding the shades at bay.He was strong—but even he had limits.She could retreat, rest, and bind the shades later—or she could accept their bargain now and endthis.
A breath passed.She chose.
Snatching the small knife from her hip pouch, she slit a line across her forearm.Pain flared as blood welled and trickled toward her hand.Fael’s eyes widened, and he broke his stance, stumbling towardher.
“Ren’wyn!”he shouted.
She squeezed her hand, making the blood run faster.Three crimson drops fell from her first knuckle as Fael’s movement broke his shield.The shades surged forward, their fury a tidal wave of cold.The iron pull of the Void nearly tore her apart, and Ren’wyn screamed as she held her control.
The blood met the dark soil at herfeet.
“Serve me and be free,” she whispered.
As the first of the damned grabbed her hair and dress with desperate, clawing fingers, the shade at the front noddedonce.
And they vanished.
The Void ripped away with such force that Ren’wyn clutched her chest, falling to her knees.Her face hit the pine needles, and she tasted blood, earth, and resin.
“Ren’wyn!”Fael’s voice sounded distant, frantic.
She barely registered the thud of his sword as it hit the ground.Heavy footsteps pounded toward her as he sprinted into the clearing.It must have been terrifying for him to enter this space.Then, his arms encircled her, lifting her up.
“Ren’wyn, Ren’wyn,” he choked, gripping her fiercely.
She turned into him, eyes streaming, and weakly clutched his shirt.
“Fael,” she groaned, “I’m… out of shape.”
A startled laugh escaped him—half relief, half sob.He tucked her against his chest, his heartbeat thundering beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, and gently brushed needles from herhair.
“Gods, I hate this place,” he muttered darkly.“Let’s get back under the hemlocks.”
He carried her from the clearing, strength unwavering.She clung to him until they reached the shelter of the trees, where he finally stumbled before kneeling to set her down gently.He grabbed the water skin and handed it to her, his hands still shaking.
Ren’wyn drank deeply, letting the cool water wash away the taste of grave mold.Fael sipped some as well, then leaned back, pale and breathless.
Taking hold of his shirt again, Ren’wyn croaked, “Thankyou.”
It wasn’t enough, but it was all she could manage before exhaustion dragged her under.Fael nodded silently and gathered her close.She sank into the warmth of his arms as together they lay down on the forest floor and slept.
Birdsong pierced the air, jarringly loud after the suffocating silence of the cursed glade.The air was lighter, fresher—a world renewed after the lifted curse.On the soft needles, the smell of stone and smoke overpowered everything.It was warm and safe.She was warm andsafe.
Opening her eyes, Ren’wyn found her face buried in Fael’s shirt, his arms wrapped securely around her, his chin resting on top of her head.Her head throbbed, her stomach rumbled, her arm stung, and her power was drained, but they had survived.Together, their combined strength had been their salvation.Deep gratitude and unexpected pride swelled in her chest.She’d held her ground.
Fael stirred and blinked awake.His sleepy, lazy smile softened his features—the fierce lines of rage and tension from the day before replaced by something gentler.His hair, growing in dark and thick, almost masked the imperial tattoos.
When recognition cleared the haze from his eyes, he jolted upright, disentangling himself too quickly.He pressed a hand to his head, groaning as dizziness overtook him, and reached blindly for the water skin.Ren’wyn watched as he drank deeply before crawling toward his pack.Her stomach growled loudly at the sight.
“Fael… thank you,” she rasped, her throat raw.“Thank you for saving my life.I’m sorry I went into the clearing.I was careless, and you risked everything to help me.”
He paused, two small apples in hand.“I’ve never seen anything like what you did yesterday,” he said, passing one over to her.“It was like a tidal wave rushing over the dead, breaking their curse.You saved us.”
He reached for her arm and gently turned it, examining the cut.His long fingers pressed lightly over the wound, a mixture of tenderness and something fiercer—a restrained anger.
“You made a blood vow,” he said, his voice low.“Tell me what they askedfor.”
