Page 22 of The Bound Blood
I roll my eyes so hard I’m amazed the world doesn’t tilt.
But then his expression shifts—like a shutter pulling closed—and I feel it before he says a word. The weight of whatever made him come.
“You’re not safe here,” he says quietly.
My stomach tightens. “Pretty sure that’s the point of the glowy circle. Keeping me—and everyone else—safe.”
“No.” He steps closer, the air growing colder even though his body radiates heat like a forge. “Not from others. Fromwhat’s coming.You can’t let them try to bind your magic.”
I snort. “I’m not sure that’s my choice to make.”
“It isn’t, but you have it within you to stop them. You need to stop them.”
My throat tightens. “I have zero control over my magic, which is why I’m pretty sure the Council wants to evaluate me and then probably bind me. You know, you’re not very comforting for someone in my situation. You’re like a prickly pear or you know one of those burrs you can pick up in the forest that latch onto your clothes and don’t let go.”
He huffs a half amused sound and crosses his arms. “I don’t do comfort,” Kael says. “You know that.”
“Yeah, I got the memo. You’re broody and unbothered, and you vanish whenever things get evenslightlyemotional?—”
“Lindsay.”
My name from his lips sends a shiver down my spine.
He doesn’t say it often.
I go still, heart tripping.
He looks at me—really looks—and I realize he’s trying to say more than he can put into words. Like whatever warning he brought with him, he can’t actually say out loud. Not without setting something in motion.
“The Council won’t protect you,” he says finally. “Not the way you need. And your magic… it’s not done changing.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “If I’d known magic came with a side of political chess and cryptic demon princes, I’d have picked a different book series.”
He doesn’t look away. “That’s why I’m telling you to be careful who you trust. Even the ones who think they’re helping might be doing more damage than they want.”
I hate the way that lodges inside my chest.
“So what?” I whisper. “You come here to say I’m doomed and then disappear again?”
Something flickers in his expression. His hand twitches near the edge of his coat, like he’s debating something. A second passes. Then another.
He doesn’t move for a long minute.
Then he steps back into the shadows, features drawn. “You don’t understand what you’re caught in the middle of.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
He doesn’t answer.
The silence stretches until it vibrates in my bones, until I want to scream just to fill it. But I don’t. I just sit there, heart pounding, eyes locked on him like I can drag the truth out with my stare alone.
His expression darkens. “You’re not just a threat to them,” he says quietly. “You’re a disruption. A crack in the foundation they’ve built everything on. They don’t know what to do with that. So they’ll try to control it. Chain it. Chainyou.”
His voice is almost a whisper now.
