Page 93 of The Blood that Binds Us

Sin’s very blood is as dark as his heart.

And I wanted to consume it all until my battered lips were swollen with need and my tongue dripping with raven regret.

Stupid, stupid girl.

* * *

The floor quivers with a deep rumbling, the pitcher of water careening off my bedside table, the frames encasing paintings of sweeping landscapes swinging wildly against the wall like a broken pendulum. I’m out of bed, dressed in a tunic and pants, dagger strapped to my thigh in less than a minute.

An explosion.

Another thunderous boom shakes the castle, and my hands break my fall as I tumble sideways on the stairwell. The ceiling creaks as more are roused from their beds, vases topple over on the foyer tables, and flickers of orange lick at the arched windows.

What is happening?

Now flying down the stairs, I barrel through the double doors of the castle’s entrance but skid to a screeching stop when I behold the horror before me.

The barracks are on fire.

Blazing curtains of orange and red shroud the quarters as soldiers rush from their beds, clad in nothing but their night wear. Several rush to try to drown the flames with well water, casting bucket after bucket onto the fiery storm. I scan the area—no enemies within the keep, no arrows flying over the wall.

No sign of an attack—perhaps a terrible accident.

The well water does nothing to calm the flames’ fury and they climb higher, sneering down at the sweating, frantic men chucking water into their enveloping swells. I’m across the courtyard in a blink, lifting my palms to the rearing wall, willing the fire to bow before me. The flames buckle beneath my magic but don’t shrink, refusing to surrender to my will.

I push against them harder. Perspiration beads across my brows, and my lungs cough in protest, but still, I command the inferno to die.

A hand grabs my arm mid-air, and Sin yanks me back a few steps, putting distance between us and the burning buildings.

“It won’t go out!” I shout over the barracks now cracking, wood splitting as interior walls begin to fall, smoke filling every open space inside.

He grabs my hand with his, and we channel our magic together, sending our now joined collectives spiraling into the torrid heat.

The flames burn and burn and burn. Unwavering. Unyielding.

Glass shatters at our rear, and I turn in time to see the windows of the castle’s western wing blow out as fire now claims that too. We abandon the barracks, running for the castle, and connect our magics again as soon as we halt at the foot of the fire.

“Get everyone out—everyone out now!” Sin bellows to a horde of men now rushing inside, pulling the thin fabric of their nightshirts up over their mouths and noses.

“Why isn’t it working?” My body trembles with the force of my power and his, Sin’s magic bleeding into my own as we unite against the fire trying to claim our home.

Hishome.

The reminder of Sin’s dismissal lashes through me, but I bury it deep. Shoving him into the conflagration won’t erase the pain and will only put others still inside at risk. They need his power.

His power that, right now, might as well be nonexistent against the incandescent flames wrecking his stronghold.

Another window shatters outward, this one from the ground level, the fire taking another part of the castle as its own. Dusaro appears at my left and grabs my other hand with his. I try not to recoil as he binds his own inky magic to ours.

“Alchemist fire,” he spits as the flames continue to burn and smolder and claim.

Alchemist fire.

Fire birthed from a sacred ritual, and very,verydifficult to conjure. Impossible to extinguish with hands other than its creator’s. Whoever gave life to these flames didn’t do it on a whim—this attack was orchestrated.

We’re not putting these flames out. At best, the three of us can hold it here, prevent it from spreading, but our magic has limits. Even Sin, whose collective was blessed by the goddess of the arcane, will falter eventually. I whip towards him to demand a plan and find him tracking the fire’s path with his eyes, his mouth silently muttering to himself as he holds his arms out in front of him. He looks over my head at his father, Dusaro’s face cast in a hazy red shadow as his lips twist into a smirk at his son’s panicked expression.

“Get her out,” Sin orders with a slight curl to his lip.

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