Sylvanna Thornwick's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

Sylvanna barely slept. The thread beneath her ribs pulled toward Vaelor all night, hot and relentless, tightening whenever he moved somewhere beyond the sanctuary walls. She could feel him even when she could not see him. His irritation. His restlessness. Once, sometime before dawn, something darker and warmer slid through the bond and made her roll onto her back, staring at the ceiling with her pulse pounding. She did not ask what he had been thinking. By morning, she needed air. She slipped out toward the spring pool before Maelis woke, hoping cold water and distance might quiet whatever had taken root inside her. It did not. If anything, being away from Vaelor made the pull worse. She crouched beside the water and dipped her fingers beneath the surface. Coolness climbed her wrist. Then every rune carved into the sanctuary walls flared white. Sylvanna shot upright. Not gold. Not black. Not the strange mingling of colors that appeared whenever she and Vaelor stood too close. White. Ancient. Recognizing. A man stepped through the archway before she could reach the knife strapped beneath her skirt. He was tall enough that he had to dip his head beneath the old stone. Pale. Broad through the shoulders but lean everywhere else, his strength hidden beneath dark fitted clothes and a long weathered coat. Ash-blond hair fell to his shoulders, half tied away from a face that looked almost unfairly beautiful. Sharp cheekbones. Strong mouth. Green-gold eyes. And those eyes landed on her. Stopped. For one strange heartbeat, neither of them moved. Silver-gold markings along his hands flickered brighter. Sylvanna felt something answer inside her. Not the violent tug Vaelor caused. This was different. Soft. Warm. Like stepping into sunlight after being cold too long. The stranger inhaled slowly. “Thornwick blood.” His voice was quiet. Smooth. He looked at her as though he had been searching for something for a very long time and had only just realized he had found it. “I would know it anywhere.” Sylvanna swallowed. “Your grandmother had the same eyes.” Her breath caught. “You knew her?” Something shifted in his expression. Affection. Grief, maybe. “I helped her seal what she feared most.” He stepped closer. Not threateningly. Carefully. His attention never left her face. “I am Caelan Veyr. Keeper of the old wards.” His gaze dropped briefly to the faint gold marks at her wrists. “One of them woke three days ago.” His eyes lifted again. “Screaming.” Maelis appeared behind him, charms clicking softly against her skirts. “So the wardkeeper came after all.” Caelan barely glanced at her. His attention returned to Sylvanna almost immediately. It should have unsettled her. Instead, heat crept into her cheeks. “You broke a seal you were never told the truth about,” he said. Before Sylvanna could answer, darkness moved behind her. She felt Vaelor before she saw him. The bond snapped tight. Heat poured through her chest. Vaelor stepped from the shadows. Seven feet of muscle, horns, scars, and restrained violence. His red eyes landed on Caelan. Then moved to the distance between Caelan and Sylvanna. Then back again. Something cold entered his expression. “Step back.” Caelan did not move. He met Vaelor’s stare with infuriating calm. “I know what you are.” Vaelor’s jaw flexed. Darkness curled around his shoulders. Caelan’s mouth curved faintly. “And I know what she is to you now.” That did it. The thread beneath Sylvanna’s ribs tightened so sharply that she sucked in a breath. Vaelor’s eyes flicked toward her. For half a second, everything else disappeared. That pull. That terrible, hungry thing between them. Her skin remembered how close he had stood the night before. How his voice dropped when he spoke only to her. How dangerous it felt to want him. Then Caelan looked at her. And the feeling changed. His gaze held no demand. No hunger he expected her to answer. Only warmth. Interest. Something almost tender. “And,” Caelan continued, softer now, “I know she deserves the truth more than either of us deserves to keep it.” Vaelor took one step forward. Caelan remained where he was. Sylvanna moved between them before either could decide to become stupid. “Enough.” Gold flashed along her wrists. Vaelor’s darkness stirred in answer. Caelan’s runes brightened. For one impossible moment, three kinds of magic filled the courtyard at once. Vaelor behind her like a storm. Caelan before her like sunlight. And Sylvanna caught between them. “Tell me,” she said. Her voice came out breathier than she intended. “What truth?” Caelan’s expression softened immediately. He looked at her as if Vaelor no longer existed. “Your grandmother did not imprison him alone.” Vaelor went very still. Caelan noticed. Sylvanna noticed Caelan noticing. And suddenly she knew there was far more history between these men than either wanted to admit. “She hid why she chose your bloodline to do it,” Caelan continued. He stepped closer. Sylvanna should have backed away. She did not. “The seal could only be broken by a Thornwick heir whose blood carried both the binding and the fae gift.” His eyes drifted over her face. “She knew what would happen if one of her descendants succeeded.” Sylvanna’s stomach tightened. “What would happen?” Caelan’s gaze flicked toward Vaelor. “The bond.” Silence. Sylvanna looked over her shoulder. Vaelor was watching her. Not Caelan. Her. His expression gave away almost nothing, but through the bond she felt something sharp. Possessive. Afraid. Wanting. Her pulse stumbled. She looked away too quickly. Caelan saw that too. Of course he did. His voice dropped. “She knew a connection would form between the blood that bound him and the blood that freed him.” Sylvanna stared at him. “So my blood didn’t free him by accident.” “No.” Caelan’s answer was gentle. “You were born carrying the possibility.” The words settled heavily between them. Vaelor said nothing. That frightened her more than anger would have. Caelan reached for her. Slowly enough that she could stop him. She did not. His fingers closed around her hand. Warmth spread instantly through her palm. Sylvanna’s breath caught. His magic did not burn. It soothed. The constant pressure beneath her ribs eased. Just slightly. But enough that she noticed. Enough that Vaelor noticed too. His gaze dropped to their joined hands. The air changed. Caelan’s thumb brushed once over Sylvanna’s knuckles. Barely anything. Her body reacted anyway. Not with the fierce ache Vaelor stirred in her. Something quieter. A softness that made her want to lean closer instead of run. Caelan’s eyes darkened slightly as though he felt it too. “I will help you understand what she hid,” he said. His voice had gone lower. More intimate. “I will not let this destroy you.” Behind her, Vaelor spoke. “Take your hand off her.” The words were quiet. That made them worse. Caelan lifted his eyes to him. His fingers remained around Sylvanna’s. “No.” Heat shot through the bond. Sylvanna gasped. Vaelor heard it. His eyes snapped to hers. For one suspended second, desire passed between them so openly that Sylvanna forgot Caelan was touching her. Then Caelan’s thumb moved again. And she remembered. Oh. This was dangerous. Not because two powerful men wanted to fight. Because some part of her wanted neither of them to stop. Sylvanna pulled her hand free. Both men watched her do it. Vaelor looked satisfied. Caelan looked disappointed. That should not have thrilled her as much as it did. She folded her arms. “Nobody touches anybody until I know what is happening.” Caelan’s mouth twitched. Vaelor gave him a murderous look. Maelis sighed from the doorway. “This is going to become unbearable very quickly.” Sylvanna ignored her. But her pulse was still racing. Because the truth was already loose now. Her grandmother had lied. Vaelor was hiding something. Caelan knew more than he was saying. And somehow, in entirely different ways, Sylvanna could already feel herself being pulled toward both of them.