Sylvanna Thornwick's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

Sylvanna stepped back from Vaelor. The instant her boot scraped across the stone, every ward in the sanctuary ignited. White light tore across the walls. The crystals overhead blazed so violently she threw up a hand, shielding her eyes. Vaelor spun toward the sound, shoulders tightening, one hand already reaching for a weapon that was no longer there. Then Sylvanna took another step away from him. The light dimmed. Silence settled over the sanctuary. Vaelor slowly turned his head toward her. Sylvanna stared at the fading runes, then down at her hands. Faint gold still curled between her fingers, warm against her skin. “They react to us,” she whispered. His gaze dropped to the magic dancing over her fingertips before lifting to her face. “Together.” Something in the way he looked at her made the word feel far more intimate than it should have. His jaw tightened. “Then we stay apart.” He crossed to the opposite side of the spring. Immediately, the sanctuary quieted. That should have made her feel better. It did not. Because the distance only made her aware of something worse. The pull. It sat beneath her ribs like an invisible thread drawn tight between them. Every step Vaelor took stretched it. Every inch of distance made her body painfully aware of where he stood. She pressed a palm to her chest. Across the water, his eyes narrowed. “You feel it.” Sylvanna lowered her hand quickly. “I feel nothing.” His mouth curved. Barely. It was not quite a smile, and somehow that made it worse. “You are a poor liar.” “And you are remarkably irritating for a man who spent centuries locked beneath the earth.” The faint amusement disappeared from his face. “Careful, little witch.” Heat climbed the back of her neck. She hated that name. She hated even more what his voice did to it. Sylvanna turned away before he could see the effect he had on her and dropped beside her pack. Her grandmother’s grimoire waited inside, wrapped in faded cloth. She pulled it free. The leather felt cold beneath her fingertips. Vaelor remained across the spring, but she could feel his attention on her as clearly as if his hand rested against her skin. She opened the book. Old blood stained several corners of the parchment. She turned page after page until she found the warding rituals. And stopped. There, written in her grandmother’s cramped hand: A bond may form between blood that binds and blood that breaks. Sylvanna swallowed. Left unnamed, it grows. Her fingers tightened around the page. Left unchecked, it becomes permanent. Cold washed through her despite the heat still lingering beneath her skin. She read it again. Then a third time. “That page frightened her too.” Sylvanna jerked around. A woman stood beneath the stone archway. Small. Hood lowered. Silver streaked through dark hair that hung loose around her shoulders. Tiny bones, stones, and protective charms hung from the belt at her waist. For one impossible second, Sylvanna could only stare. “Maelis?” The older woman stepped inside. Sylvanna’s throat tightened. She had not seen her since her grandmother’s funeral. “How did you find this place?” Maelis glanced around the sanctuary as though the question amused her. “I helped build it, child.” Her gaze shifted toward Vaelor. He had moved without Sylvanna noticing. One moment he had been across the spring. Now he stood several steps closer. Not beside her. But close enough that the thread beneath her ribs eased. Sylvanna hated that she noticed. Maelis noticed too. Her expression darkened. “The wards called me,” she said. “They only call when someone breaks a rule.” Vaelor regarded her with the cold stillness of a predator deciding whether something posed a threat. “You know what I am.” Maelis met his stare without hesitation. “I know exactly what you are.” Her eyes dropped briefly over him, taking in the horns, the scars, the unmistakable traces of something ancient beneath his skin. Then she looked at Sylvanna. “And I know what she has started.” Sylvanna rose. “Then tell me.” Maelis crossed the room and lowered herself beside the open grimoire. She placed one finger against the bloodstained warning. “The seal your blood broke did more than free him.” Sylvanna’s stomach tightened. “It tied you.” Silence. Vaelor’s gaze snapped toward her. Sylvanna felt it like a touch. Maelis continued. “Your magic reaches for his. His reaches back.” Sylvanna looked toward Vaelor before she could stop herself. His eyes were already on her. Something shifted in the air. Her magic stirred instantly. Gold spilled faintly beneath her skin, curling around her wrists. Across the room, darkness gathered lazily around Vaelor’s fingers. Neither of them moved. Yet Sylvanna suddenly remembered exactly what it had felt like standing inches from him earlier. His body towering over hers. The heat of him. The way his voice had lowered when he spoke to her. The brief, terrifying urge she’d had to close the last bit of distance between them instead of creating more. Her pulse jumped. Vaelor’s gaze lowered. Not far. Just enough to catch the movement in her throat when she swallowed. The darkness around his hand thickened. Maelis looked between them. “That,” she said quietly, “is precisely the problem.” Sylvanna tore her eyes away. “What happens?” “Every day you remain near one another, the thread tightens.” “And if we name it?” Maelis hesitated. “It locks.” Sylvanna’s mouth went dry. “Forever?” “Forever.” She forced herself to look back at Vaelor. He had gone completely still. But the muscles along his jaw were tight. “And if we do nothing?” Maelis’s expression softened. “It still locks.” Sylvanna’s stomach dropped. “Slower,” Maelis added. “But it locks.” The silence afterward felt unbearable. “There is no cutting it now.” Sylvanna stared at her. “Then what exactly are we supposed to do?” “Choose when.” Across the spring, Vaelor’s expression changed. The warmth vanished. His eyes hardened. “You freed me for this.” Sylvanna turned toward him. “What?” His voice dropped. “You knew.” “I didn’t.” He stepped closer. The wards brightened. Sylvanna’s breath caught. Another step. Gold flickered over the walls. “Vaelor.” “You broke a seal made by your own bloodline. You brought me here. And now I am told that same blood has tied me to you.” His voice stayed controlled. Almost too controlled. He stopped directly in front of her. Close enough that Sylvanna had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. The sanctuary hummed around them. Her magic surged beneath her skin. His answered immediately. Darkness curled between them, brushing against the gold at her wrists without extinguishing it. Instead, the two powers twisted together. Sylvanna’s breath came shallow. Vaelor noticed. Of course he noticed. His gaze moved over her face before settling on her mouth for one infuriating heartbeat. Then back to her eyes. “You expect me to believe that was chance?” Her anger should have been stronger than whatever else was happening inside her. It was not. “I swear to you,” she whispered, “I didn’t know.” His eyes searched hers. They were standing too close. Far too close. Sylvanna became painfully aware that neither of them was moving away. His hand lifted. For one wild moment, she thought he was going to touch her. Her body reacted before her mind could. She leaned toward him. Barely. But enough. Vaelor froze. His fingers hovered beside her cheek. The magic between them erupted. Every rune in the sanctuary burned gold and black. Sylvanna gasped. Vaelor’s hand closed around her wrist. The instant his skin touched hers, heat shot through her so violently her knees nearly betrayed her. His other hand caught her waist. Pure instinct. But now she was against him. And neither of them breathed. His grip tightened slightly. Sylvanna stared up at him. Whatever anger had been in his face was gone. Something far more dangerous had replaced it. His voice came low. “Sylvanna.” Her name had never sounded like that before. Maelis snapped the grimoire shut. The sound cracked through the room. They broke apart. Barely. Maelis stared at them with the exhausted expression of someone watching two people prove her point for her. “The bond has a name,” she said. Sylvanna’s heart hammered. Vaelor’s hand was no longer around her waist. She could still feel exactly where it had been. “You both already feel it.” Maelis’s gaze sharpened. “And that is precisely why you should be afraid to name it.” Sylvanna looked at Vaelor. His eyes dropped to her mouth once more. This time, she knew she had not imagined it. Then he stepped away. The thread beneath her ribs pulled painfully after him. And from the slight tightening of his jaw— she knew he felt it too.