Chapter 9 Chains of Want 1
The guards found us covered in blood that was not ours. Kael barked orders. Remove the bodies. Lock down the East Wing. Find out who had access to the warded room. His voice was ice, fury, and absolute command. I stood there dripping blood on expensive floors while my side still tingled where the wound had been. His blood had healed me. Should not have worked, but it did. Another thing that made no sense about this bond. "Your Majesty." Theron appeared looking grim. "The assassins were hired through a broker in the lower city. Paid in gold from House Morweth." "Cassian."
Kael's eyes went black. "Arrest him." "On what charge? He will claim someone stole his gold. Used his house seal without permission." Theron's jaw tightened. "We have no proof he ordered it personally." "Then get me proof." "That will take time. And whoever helped these assassins bypass the wards is still walking free in this palace." Theron looked at me.
"She is not safe anywhere except your personal chambers. And even that is questionable." Kael grabbed my arm. Not rough. But not gentle either. "Then that is where she stays. No training. No wandering. No windows without bars." "I am not a prisoner," I said. "Yes. You are." He dragged me toward the door. "A living one. Which is better than the alternative?" We climbed stairs. Walked corridors.
I felt eyes watching from shadows. Servants. Guards. Maybe assassins are waiting for another chance. His chambers felt different now. Less like a cage. More like a tomb. He locked the door behind us. Threw three additional bolts I had not noticed before. Then turned to face me with blood still on his hands. "Strip." I blinked. "What?" "Your clothes are covered in blood.
Remove them." He walked to a cabinet, pulled out a basin, and poured clean water into it. "I need to make sure you have no other wounds." "I am fine. Your blood healed—" Strip, Sera. Or I will do it for you." My hands went to the laces on my training shirt. Pulled them loose with shaking fingers. The shirt came off. Then the binding underneath. I stood bare from the waist up with his eyes burning into me. He crossed the room.
Dipped a cloth in water. Started cleaning blood from my skin. His touch was methodical. Clinical. But heat followed everywhere his fingers traced. Down my ribs. Across my stomach. Along my collarbone. "Kael." "Quiet." The cloth moved lower. Across the place where the blade had pierced me. Nothing left but smooth skin now. "You almost died." "But I did not."
"Because I gave you my blood." His palm was flat against my belly. "Do you understand what that means?"
"It means you saved me."
"It means you carry my blood in your veins now. Not just through the bond. Through direct exchange." His eyes met mine. Red. Burning. "That makes you more mine than before." "I am not property." "In this world you are. My bond. My blood. My responsibility." His hand slid up to cup my face. "And I protect what is mine." "Even when what is yours hates you?" "Do you? Hate me?" His thumb brushed my lips.
"Because the bond says otherwise. The bond says you want this as much as I do, even though we both know better." He was right. I did want this. Wanted him. The bond sang between us, demanding more than just blood. Demanding everything. Wrong. This was wrong. He killed your family. But his family killed him first. Made him into this.
I took hold of his shirt. Dragged him down. I kissed him till I tasted blood.
There was a low sound in his throat. He kissed me back as if I were oxygen and he was drowning, his hands clenched in my hair. As if the ages of solitude had finally shattered something within him.
We crashed into the wall. His mouth moved to my throat. Not biting. Just kissing. Hot and desperate. His hands are everywhere. My back. My waist. Places no one had ever touched. I yanked at his shirt. Got it off somehow. Ran my hands over skin and muscle and scars that told stories I could not read. He was cold, but I was burning hot, and where we touched, something ignited. "We should stop," he breathed against my neck. "Probably." "This is a terrible idea." "The worst." My hands found his belt. Started working on the buckle. He grabbed my wrists. Stopped me.
His forehead rested against mine while we both struggled to breathe. "Not like this," he said. "Not when we are covered in blood, and you are in shock, and I am barely in control." "I do not care about control." "I do." He released my wrists and stepped back. Put space between us that the bond immediately hated. "You deserve better than me taking you against a wall because I cannot think straight when you are near me." "What if I want the wall?" His eyes flashed black. "Do not tempt me, little half-blood. You have no idea how close I am to breaking every rule I have about this bond." "Then break them." "No." He grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it on.
"Go clean up properly. Use the bathroom. Lock the door if it makes you feel safer." "Kael—" "Now, Sera." I went. Arguing with him when his eyes were black and his control was hanging by a thread felt like stupidity. The bathing room was still luxurious. Still had hot water and expensive soap. I scrubbed blood off my skin and tried not to think about how his hands felt. How his mouth tasted.
How nearly we crossed a boundary we would never be able to get back from.
He was sitting by the chilly fireplace, staring at nothing, when I emerged wrapped in a towel.
He said, "There are clean clothes on the bed," without turning to face me.
I dressed in silence. Another shirt. More pants. Boots. Armor against whatever came next. "Lyra will be here soon," Kael said. "She is investigating how the assassins knew where we would be. That room is warded. Only five people knew we would be there." "Who?" "Me. You. Theron. Lyra. And Marcus." My blood froze. "Marcus would not—" "Everyone is suspect until proven otherwise." He finally looked at me. "Even people we trust. Especially people we trust." A knock interrupted us. Kael stood and opened the door. Lyra swept in, looking annoyed. "Well. This is a mess." "Report," Kael ordered.
"The wards on that room were disabled from the inside. Someone with access to royal magic tampered with them." She looked between us with ice-blue eyes that missed nothing. "Someone in this palace. Someone close to you." "Who has that level of access?" Royal family. High nobles. Your personal guard." Lyra's smile was sharp. "Approximately forty people. All of whom would benefit from the half-blood's death." "Narrow it down." "I am working on it." She turned to me.
"How did the memory walking go? Before you were rudely interrupted by assassins." "It worked. I saw his past. Elena. The purge. Everything." "Fascinating. Can you control it? Direct it?" "I do not know. Maybe." Lyra pulled something from her pocket. A vial of blood. Dark. Old. "Then try. This blood belonged to one of the assassins. See if you can trace it back to whoever hired him." She held out the vial. I took it with shaking hands. "I have never done this before. I do not know if I can—" Then learn fast.
Because whoever sent those assassins will try again. And next time they might succeed." Lyra's voice was cold. Practical. "Use your gifts, Sera. Or die. Your choice." I uncorked the vial. The smell hit me. Death. Fear. The metallic taste of spilled blood. I touched a finger to it. The world disappeared. A dark room. Three figures in black. A voice giving orders. Male. Cultured. Familiar. "The half-blood dies today. Make it look random. An accident. The king must not suspect House involvement." "And if the king interferes?" "Then you die trying. She is the priority. Eliminate her, and the curse will kill Draeven within days.
The throne will be ours." I could not see the face. But I knew the voice. Had heard it at dinner. Cold. Calculating. Green eyes that saw everything. Lord Lucian Ashford. I yanked my hand away and gasped. Kael caught me before I fell. "What did you see?" "Lucian. Lord Ashford. He hired them." I grabbed Kael's shirt. "He wants me dead so the curse will kill you. So he can take the throne." Kael's face went blank. Then he smiled. It was terrifying. "Finally. An enemy I can actually destroy." "You cannot just kill a high lord without proof." "Watch me."