Page 55 of A Fate Unwoven
It looked exactly the same as the girl remembered. As if time had frozen this small patch of land, preserving it just for her. For a moment,she could pretend like nothing had changed. That she and her brother were simply returning from a morning of foraging for supplies.
“I can’t believe we’re finally home,” the boy with the dark eyes said, echoing her thoughts. Lena’s own heart ached at the emotion in his voice.
Despite the constant thrum of magic in her blood, a smile tugged at the girl’s lips. Her mother was waiting for her inside that hut, her threads calling out to the girl like a song written just for her.
She’d barely taken a step forward when the sound of a sword being drawn turned her body to ice.
“Hello, Venysa.”
Venysa’s hands trembled, her fury and fear churning like a storm about to break.
She turned slowly, her hands raised in a show of surrender. If she could just get him talking, distract him long enough to alter his threads—
“It won’t work,” theZværnapriest said, his blade pressed to the dark-haired boy’s throat. “His fate is too woven with your own, and that is the one thing even you cannot control.”
Again, that simmering fury Lena was becoming so familiar with. The mark on the girl’s wrist burned hot enough to hurt, but she did not flinch from the pain. It was a welcome distraction. An anchor in the storm.
“You won’t hurt him, Iulian,” she said, her chin raised.
He tilted his head, the hood of his robes shifting just enough for her to see the flash of dark eyes. The same eyes as the boy he held in his grasp.
“I will, if that is what Næbya has woven. If that is what it takes for you to do your duty as Fateweaver of this empire.”
Her duty. It was always about her duty.
“What about yourdutyas our father? Or does that not matter?”
Iulian’s lips thinned. “My duty to Næbya comes before all else. As should yours. You can keep fighting. You can even attempt to take yourmother and flee. But if you do, there will be consequences.” His tone was deadly, filled with warning. “Come back with me now, and Kælar and your mother won’t be harmed.”
“They’re yourfamily,” she snarled, tears burning her eyes.
“That woman has not been my family for a long time,” Iulian snarled, “and mysonabsconded with the empire’s Fateweaver; he is a traitor to his empire.” The hand holding the dagger at Kælar’s throat didn’t flinch. Venysa searched theZværna’s eyes for any sign of the father she’d once known, but there was nothing left of him in the hard lines of his face, in the dark, frantic swirl of his eyes.
She knew then that he’d do it. Kill his own son to ensure her obedience. The roaring in her head silenced, the fear and fury in her veins fading until all that remained were her father’s threads, bright and fierce—
—and hers to control.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Lena felt the surge of the Fateweaver’s power, only this time, there was no fear to stop it. Iulian’s movements slowed to an almost stop, and Lena couldfeelthe essence of his threads as Venysa’s eyes danced along them, searching for the one thread she was not supposed to seek out.
Venysa knew she’d found what she was looking for the moment her power locked onto it. A single thread, its essence stronger than the rest. She channeled her entire focus onto that thread, all the fear and fury she’d locked away since the night her father had used her for his own gain. He’d taken her life from her, herchoice,and now she would repay the favor.
The sharp edge of an arrow pierced through her shoulder just before her power could fully take hold. She gasped, falling to her knees in the snow. Lena felt the familiar wetness of blood trickling down her arm. The taste of copper in her mouth.
And beneath it, the cold, seeping sensation of being dragged into the dark.
“You think I would come alone?” he asked, his eyes dancing with triumph. He tightened his hold on Kælar, the knife digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood.
“Please!” Venysa tried to crawl toward him, but the pain was too much.
“You have made your choice,” he said, his face as hard as stone.
In one quick motion, the dagger sliced along Kælar’s neck, leaving a thin, crimson line in its wake.
“No!” Venysa roared.
And then the world went dark.
