Page 37 of A Fate Unwoven
“Yeah.”
He stepped out of the shadows, the sight of him so heartbreakingly familiar that for a moment all she wanted to do was wrap herself up in him. To forget the world and the path that lay ahead of her and just feel like her old self again.
But as much as she wanted to fall into his arms, to feel loved and safe andwanted, she couldn’t. Not with the memory of the things he’d said to her when he’d found out she was the Fateweaver still hanging between them.
Instead, she took a small step backward. “What are you doing here?”
“I came for you.”
Finæn closed the space between them, taking her hand in his. The touch was gentle, but there was something about the way he was looking at her, about the way he wouldn’t quite meet her stare, that made the hairs on the back of neck prickle in warning.
“How did you find me?”
Finæn’s jaw clenched in the way it did when he was hiding something. His threads, which were wavering in and out of existence, seemed … different, somehow. Darker in a way she couldn’t explain.Something’s wrong,she thought, unease twisting her stomach.
“The prince sent me,” he said, a handful of his threads darkening. “Lena, he … he has Maia.”
Lena’s blood ran cold. “Is she—”
“She’s fine,” he interrupted, still refusing to meet her gaze. “He hasn’t hurt her. Not … not yet, anyway. He took us as his prisoners after you left Forvyrg—someone must have told him we knew you, becausehe … he held Maia at sword point, and said that if I didn’t bring you to him, her life would be the cost.”
Hatred flared to life in Lena’s blood, hot and all consuming, and the Fateweaver’s magic rose to meet it. “Take me to him.” Lena’s voice was level. Her anger washed away any lingering doubt. She was going to find a way to break her bond to Dimas Ehmar no matter what it took.
And once she was free, once he was no longer protected by their connection, she was going to make him pay.
SIXTEEN
DIMAS
His Fateweaver was close.
Dimas couldn’t sense her in the way he was supposed to, but now that she was nearby, he could feel the hum of her magic in the air, like a storm brewing on the horizon. It was a power he should have been drawn to, but as Dimas watched the tree line, all he felt was dread.
It was … strange. His father had never really spoken about the bond he shared with Lady Sefwyn, but Brother Dunstan’s teachings had always described it as something divine, something beyond human connection that only an Ehmar emperor and his Fateweaver could feel. As a boy, when he’d been alone and frightened of the shadows in his mind, he’d imagined what it would be like to have someone to confide in. Someone who would stand by him no matter what.
He wasn’t foolish enough to think Lenora would be that for him. He’d given up on the fantasy of the connection his ancestors had with their own Fateweavers on the night he’d failed to receive his promised vision, and any hope he’d held on to had disappeared completely thefirst time Lenora had looked at him with fear and hatred in her gaze. No, he and Lenora would never be friends.
But perhaps they could be allies.
He stood beside the old watchtower they’d chosen as their camp, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. Ioseph had insisted he wait inside until Finæn returned with the Fateweaver, but Dimas had refused. He wanted to be there when Lenora arrived. To show her that despite his trickery in getting her to meet with him, he was not her enemy, but her equal.
His gaze drifted toward the door of the watchtower. Maia Æspen sat inside, unbound but guarded by Milos. The young girl had said nothing since Finæn had agreed to use her as bait, instead choosing to silently glare at anyone who came near her. He needed Lenora to hear him out, and this was the only way he could ensure she would. Maia had simply turned her back on him, and Dimas hadn’t been able to get rid of the heavy feeling in his stomach since.
Something pulled Dimas’s attention toward the horizon, where two figures were walking steadily toward the watchtower. He felt a flood of power as his Fateweaver drew closer. From this distance, he couldn’t quite make out the features of her face or the details of her clothing, but he could sense her quiet anger, simmering like a fire waiting to engulf anything that came into its path.
Shadows flickered at the edges of his vision. He sucked in a deep breath, hands clenching into tight fists at his side. He couldn’t afford to fall apart now. If Lenora saw how weak he truly was, how unworthy of his title, he’d never convince her to take up her role at his side.
It didn’t take long for Finæn and Lenora to reach the tower. This close, the hum of her power was almost unbearable. She came to a stop a few feet away from him, her gaze finding him fiddling with the sleeves of his coat.
A rush of emotions hit Dimas like a storm. Anger. Anxiety. Fear. The force of them made him want to look away. To cower from the sheer intensity of the woman standing before him.
But he was to be emperor, and emperors did not cower.
“Hello, Lenora.”
The Fateweaver’s expression darkened. “Where’s Maia?”
“She’s safe. You have my word.”
