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Chapter Forty-Eight

Jasce

Aleksander’s eyes glaze over as Jude’s magic pins him to the bed, but I feel no sympathy for this traitor.

“J-Jasce...” His fingers twitch against the blanket, grasping for the mercy I will not give. “You don’t...”

I press the blade harder against his throat. “Save your breath. You lost the right to explain yourself when you bound Annora’s magic to yours.”

He shakes his head, his movements sluggish, as if he’s drowning. “Jasce...”

Something twists in my chest—a faint echo of the brotherhood we once shared. Then, I see Annora’s eyes and the sadness she cannot disguise.

“You used my wife,” I say between quick breaths. “Forced her to kill innocent people. Your own people.”

His hand shoots up, clamping my wrist with surprising strength. “Brother…”

I wrench away. “I am not your brother anymore.”

I nod at Jude, and he increases his magic, causing Aleksander’s eyes to roll back as his body goes limp.

I clench my hands into fists as Reeve uses his shadowfire magic, and he disappears along with Jude and Aleksander.

Every muscle in my body strains to follow, to ensure nothing goes wrong with moving Aleksander. But I force myself to stay put, to trust in their abilities.

My thoughts drift to Annora, as they always do. The way her eyes light up when she sketches. How her fingers curl into her sleeves when she’s nervous. The sound of her counting under her breath to calm herself. Every detail of her is etched into my soul like lines carved in stone.

I’ve commanded armies, ruled cities, faced down enemies without flinching, but nothing has ever made me feel as powerful—or as vulnerable—as loving her.

The minutes crawl by until finally, Reeve reappears next to me and nods.

Time to collect my wife.