Page 23 of The Bound Blood
“Don’t let them bind you.”
My breath catches.
Kael takes one final step backward, his body already blending into the shadows curling at the edges of the room, wings half-folded like he never meant to come here at all.
I lurch forward before I can think better of it, fingers pressing against the edge of the glowing rune circle that still separates us. “Why are you doing this?”
A beat.
Then he replies low, raw, and terrifyingly soft, “Because I’ve seen what happens when you don’t survive. Or if they bind your magic.”
The chill of it races through me, bone-deep and absolute.
“Stay alive, Lindsay Blake.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
The door clicksopen at first light. At least that’s what I think the fairy lights are saying as they brighten over time. Professor Marris steps inside and shuts the door behind her.
I haven’t slept since Kael disappeared, his words just keep echoing inside my head.
Don’t let them bind you. Stay alive.
No pressure, right?
Professor Marris carries more today. A leather-bound journal, a bundle of cloth-wrapped vials, and something faintly glowing beneath the folds of her cloak. Her eyes land on me instantly—searching, assessing, relieved.
“You’re awake,” she says, though it’s clear she expected nothing less.
“I don’t exactly get to sleep in.” I gesture to the glowing rune circle beneath me. “Or go anywhere.”
She doesn’t smile. Not today. Just steps forward and sets everything down with surprising care.
“I stayed up all night,” she says. “Pulled every loophole I could find. You haven’t been bound yet. That means you’re still under my instruction. And I could unravel your Veilbind with Raiden, but I can show you other things that will help all of you.”
I blink at her. “You’re saying you want to teach me?”
“I’m saying we’re out of time. And I’m not going to let them turn you into a scapegoat without giving you a fighting chance.”
My chest tightens. “What kind of fighting chance?”
She opens the journal, flipping it toward me, and my stomach drops. There, sketched in ink and lined in faint silver dust, are three markings.
Wrist. Collarbone. Palm. The marks I saw on the guys in the dream.
“I couldn’t confirm it,” she says, “but I know who was with you that night. And I’ve never seen a bond like this. Not with three different threads. Not all leading back to you.”
“You think I caused it?” My voice is quiet and raw.
“I think yousurvivedit. That’s what they don’t want to admit. That you stabilized something no one else could.” Professor Marris levels me with a look. “That kind of magic should’ve split you open. It didn’t. Youheld on.”
“I didn’t even know what I was doing.”
“You followed instinct. You trusted your magic.” She reaches for one of the vials, rolling it between her fingers. The liquid inside glows like starlight filtered through smoke. “That means there’s more to you than they want to believe.”
I stare at her. “You said we’re out of time.”
“We are.” She pulls out another scroll, this one covered in tightly woven protection runes. “They’ve scheduled the binding ritual under the guise of a magical evaluation. But it won’t be just an assessment. They’re going to force it if they think they can justify it.”
