Page 32 of Incoronate
Time for what?I wanted to ask.Time to find another solution that didn’t exist? Time to say goodbye?
But I didn’t bother trying to say any of that out loud. Instead, I just watched as he worked, dropping into position in front of his makeshift altar, his hands moving through the motions as if it were muscle memory.
“How much time is this going to buy us?” asked Trace, his dimples pressing in as he chewed his bottom lip.
Caleb’s hands stilled for a fraction of a second, though he didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” growled Trace. “That’s not good enough, Caleb.”
“What do you want me to say? I’m fucking driving blind here, man,” snapped Caleb, his frustration breaking through the barely-there control he had over himself. “It’s not like there’s a playbook for this. I’m doing the best I can.”
I hated that they were fighting because of me. Hated that Trace’s voice was breaking and Dominic looked like he was bracing for a loss he refused to even imagine, let alonename. I wanted to tell them they didn’t have to keep tearing themselves apart on my behalf. That I was already coming undone just fine on my own.
But I didn’t speak. Didn’t push. Didn’t beg for miracles that no longer existed.
Somehow, it already felt too hopeless to even try.
Caleb struck a match and lit the candles one by one. The flames caught quickly, burning unnaturally bright despite the lack of airflow in the room. He sprinkled the herbs into the bowl, and smoke began to rise in thin, fragrant tendrils.
He nodded to himself and then paused, lifting his head to eye the cuffs that were locking me and Trace together. “You need to uncuff her. You can’t be touching her, or the spell might inadvertently deviate.”
Trace frowned, his gaze jumping to Dominic, who was standing above Caleb like an overlord with his arms folded across his chest. “Is that safe?”
Dominic took one look at me and nodded once. He already knew that I barely had the strength to sit upright, let alone bolt for the door or give in to the pull if the voices surged again.
Trace hesitated only a second longer before reaching into his pocket for the key. He unlocked the cuffs, one wrist and then the other, the soft clink of metal sounding far too loud in the quiet room as he freed us from each other. “Is it going to hurt her?” he asked, rubbing gently at the red marks around my wrist.
Caleb didn’t look away from me. “I don’t know. It might,” he admitted ruefully. “I’ve never done something like this before. My spell is going to need to push through the rot to reach the damage, and even if it does, there’s no telling how her body is going to respond to more magic being forced into a system that’s already at war with itself.”
Yikes.That definitely didn’t sound like a good time.
Still, I nodded anyway because what was the alternative? Refuse the spell, do nothing and wait for the rot to swallow me completely?
Trace slipped an arm around me and drew me into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, holding me against him as if he wanted to memorize the feel of my body against him before reluctantly letting go.
The moment his support disappeared, the room tilted around me, making me wobble in my spot. Clenching my teeth, I braced a hand against the arm of the sofa, forcing myself to stay upright through sheer stubbornness alone.
“You ready, Blackburn?”
I nodded again, knowing I couldn’t trust my voice not to crack and give me away.
Caleb positioned himself in front of the bowl and placed both hands over it as I watched through a heat-soaked haze. His chanting began low and controlled, the words moving through the air in what I was pretty sure was Latin, though the fever made everything sound distorted and strange, like the syllables were reaching me from a great distance.
Light bloomed between his palms. Soft at first and then brighter until it hurt to look at directly. The glow spread outward, slowly winding its way away from the table as it reached for me. I felt it the moment his magic made contact with my skin. A sharp, pulling sensation that hooked straight into my veins.
I gasped, my hands clenching into fists.
Caleb’s chanting grew louder, more urgent as the light intensified, burning bright enough that I had to squeeze my eyes shut. The pulling sensation turned into a ripping one, tearing pieces loose and dragging them toward the surface.
Something inside me recoiled before pushing back.
Hard.
The light around Caleb’s hands flickered. His voice strained, the Latin words coming faster, more desperate. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his entire body trembling with the effort of channeling that much power.
And then, with a sound like glass breaking, the spell collapsed.
The light died. Caleb’s hands dropped to his sides as his shoulders slumped forward. He looked utterly spent and barely even able to hold himself upright.
