Page 32 of Godbound
I scramble backward, pulse hammering. What am I doing next to her? Where is the fire?
Seraphina’s head tilts toward me, slow and deliberate, as if even the effort of moving is agony. But even in her weakness, something in her eyes remains unyielding—a silent, venomous promise.
Her hawk-sharp gaze flicks to mine, then glazes over, her focus slipping, as if she’s momentarily untethered from herself. Her lips part in a snarl, but instead of venom, only drool dribbles free.
“She’s still fighting off the effects of her magic. She’s not used to it, just like you were not used to yours,” Kaelzar murmurs, his voice curling through my thoughts. “You must have run into her just as shewas about to spacestep, and she took you with her.”
Spacestep.My confusion at the word must have traveled through our invisible bond, because I can feel him roll his eyes in annoyance.
“She can traverse space in an instant, bend the very fabric of distance with a mere thought,” he explains.
I barely have time to grasp the enormity of what’s happened before Kaelzar continues, his tone infuriatingly casual.
“And yes, her crouching does make her look as pathetic as you. Now go before she recovers.”
Something ugly rises in me at how easily he flays my thoughts apart, picking at what I barely admit to myself.
But he’s right. I shouldn’t care, but I do. Because Seraphina isn’t weak. Her gaze snaps back into focus for the briefest moment. Not vacant. Not dazed. Calculating.
The way she stares at the red strand in my hair is unsettling, feral in its intensity. Resentment churns behind those piercing eyes, something festering beneath her pretty, practiced exterior. She won’t allow herself to lose.
Not to me. Not to anyone.
A shiver of unease prickles at my skin, something that has nothing to do with the Trial or Kaelzar’s insults.
I don’t wait for her to recover.
I push to my feet and run, legs trembling, barely carrying me forward, but forward, nonetheless. When I reach a corner that opens in only two directions, with long, straight paths on either side, reducing the chance of another surprise attack, I press my back against the rough stone.
The jagged edges bite through my sweat-dampened dress, grounding me in the moment. I scan both paths, ensuring they remain empty, before allowing my eyes to slip shut for a single breath.
“Great time for a nap. Is that all you’re good for?” Kaelzar’s voice slithers through my mind.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I throw the thought at him, snapping my eyes open to the sky.
As if answering, something unfurls in my mind—not my ownthoughts, but his. Not words, but feelings.
And the despair is suffocating. It crashes over me, a grief so immense it feels like a living thing. Whatever he lost when he was dragged into this realm, whatever future he had envisioned… it is gone. And with it, the fragile, withering hope he clung to.
A whimper slips past my lips. My fingers tighten against my chest as tears spill before I can stop them. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to?—”
“Don’t waste your breath apologizing,” he growls, the connection between us snapping shut like a slammed door, severing the shared torment. “Your words are useless.”
The sudden absence of his grief leaves me gasping.
His anger, his loathing—those I can bear. But the thing I just touched? That raw, infinite loss? I never want to feel that again.
And yet his words, cruel as they are, do what they always do. They stiffen my spine.
“You know what?” I say aloud. “I’m not sorry. And I don’t care about your problems.” I push the thought outward, let him feel the truth of it. “You don’t belong in this realm, and my fate isn’t your concern. But it goes both ways. I didn’t ask for you either. You were forced on me as much as I was on you. And if you’re going to be an ass about it, I will gladly stoop to your level. You are bound to me. Here to serve me. So shut up and serve.”
A pulse of irritation ripples through our bond, but he doesn’t argue.
“Good.” I exhale, centering myself. “What is that thing inside me, like a sack filled with oil? It presses against my magic, ready to burst.”
Kaelzar’s response is immediate, matter of fact, yet edged with something unreadable. “It belongs to the Blood magic in you. Your Decay took the lives of those people,” he continues, his tone impassive. “And now their essence is stored within you. A reservoir of stolen life.”
A twisted balance.
