Page 98 of Godbound
Tears still run down my cheeks as I whisper into the silence, “I’msorry.”
The words taste wrong. Inadequate. As if they could erase what I’ve done. The apology isn’t just for the wolf, but for myself—for what I had to do, for the power I still barely understand. For the choice I thought I’d never make.
I lean back against the wall, my head falling against the cool stone. The pain in my body is gone, replaced by a tenuous calm. I feel lighter, as though releasing my magic has unburdened me of more than just my physical wounds.
By the time I lift my palms, the skin is whole, not even a scar remains from the cuts. I press my fingers to my side, then unwrap the bloody bandage, but there is no trace of the grave injury.
My gaze falls to the spot where the wolf had been, now nothing but a patch of blackened dust. Wrapping my arms around myself, I shiver despite the warmth radiating from my skin.
“I didn’t mean for it to…” My voice breaks, and I can’t finish the thought.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize Kaelzar knew this would happen. He warned me about the danger of holding that magic without a release.
Maybe he meant for me to feel the shock of losing control now, to experience the hunger of my magic firsthand. To finally heed his warnings.
“Good,” Kaelzar’s voice comes from the shadows a moment before his form steps into the dim light. I flinch. Has he been here the whole time? Watching?
He’s wearing his damn cloak again. It’s a reminder that it’s time to return to reality, where he is nothing but my Godbeast and I am his Champion.
But as he steps closer, his gaze flicks. Not to me, but to the scorch-marked stone. To the place where the wolf had been. If there’s anything behind those cold, storm-dark eyes, he doesn’t let it show.
“Now you’re ready to go back.”
I refuseto step back into the shadow world. The memory of its suffocating weight, the uncomfortable charge prickling my skin, and the unrelenting darkness that clung to me like a second skin churns in my stomach.
Instead, I trudge after Kaelzar, the uneven ground of the cave biting into my bare feet with every step.
The cavern where I released my magic is just one part of a sprawling labyrinth—a vast, echoing system of tunnels on the far side of the Birch Forest. Beyond the forest lies Viele, but Kaelzar informed me it would take hours of riding to reach it.
“All night,” he said, his voice reverberating off the stone walls, “or a few seconds through the shadows.”
“I’ll take the night, thank you,” I replied.
Kaelzar didn’t argue. Instead, shadows coiled at his feet, those same living tendrils he now uses to guide us through the maze of curling tunnels.
The paths split and rejoin, arched into massive chambers, then narrow into jagged corridors. The flickering light of luminescent fungi along the walls casts an eerie green-blue glow. It paints Kaelzar’s hulking frame in shifting shadows.
Stalactites hang overhead, dripping faintly, their droplets a rhythmic counterpoint to the echo of my shoeless feet. The blanket I still keep wrapped around myself drags along the ground.
The longer we walk, the hotter my frustration simmers.
He said he brought me to the cabin to help me heal, yet somehow I feel splintered all over again. Then he took me into these caves without asking, without so much as a warning. And when he came across that suffering wolf, he didn’t step in. He stood back and made me do it.
Made me kill it.
Maybe there was a reason behind it. Maybe, in his mind, it was a test. A way to make me stronger. Some twisted version of empowerment.
And maybe, in a way, it worked. But that doesn’t make it right.Because he took the choice from me. No one should have to surrender pieces of their humanity to survive what’s been done to them.
It’s not that I expect to be coddled. I don’t. But there’s a difference between guiding someone through pain and dragging them through it without asking.
My thoughts snag on the memory of how I kissed him, desperate to end his pain then, just as he tried to end mine now. Somewhere in it, there’s a dark irony. I can’t quite make sense of it, but the symmetry stings.
Heat climbs my neck when I think of his aggravated voice telling me there could never be anything between us. I helped him. That’s all it was. I never said it meant anything. I neveraskedfor anything. He’s the one who assumed.
Now we walk in silence, his shadow stretching long ahead of me. Both memories—the stench of the wolf’s decay and the lingering heat of his lips on mine—cling where they shouldn’t. The mix of them is almost grotesque in its intimacy, blurring together until I can’t tell which one hurts more.
I fix my eyes on Kaelzar’s back. He doesn’t show an ounce of regret for either act, just keeps marching ahead as if none of it matters.
