Page 11 of Broken Fates (Severed Flames #3)

Chapter 11

Vale

A steady, unshakable heat pressed against my back, another wrapped around my waist, anchoring me to the bed—to them . My breath came slow, deep, my body cocooned between them, their scents wrapping around me like a memory I’d thought I’d lost.

Kian’s arm was slung over my hip, his fingers curled into the sheets, anchoring me to him. He slept heavy, his presence grounding, even in unconsciousness. Xavier’s grip was tighter. Protective. Possessive. His hand splayed against my stomach, his body lined up behind mine, his breath a slow, even exhale against the curve of my shoulder.

I should have felt trapped. Instead, I felt safe. For the first time in days, my body didn’t ache. For the first time in days, I wasn’t bleeding, breaking, or fighting for my life.

But my mind?

That was a graveyard, filled with all the ghosts I couldn’t bury.

I inhaled slowly, pressing my lips together as my magic twitched beneath my skin. I should stay. I wanted to stay. But the moment I closed my eyes, I felt her.

Zamarra.

Her voice slithered into my skull, whispering through the cracks, twisting through and around my ribs like a vise.

You cannot escape me.

My breath hitched. I tried to push her out—tried to focus on the warmth of Kian’s body, the solid weight of Xavier’s arm, the quiet hush of their breathing. But the Dreaming still clung to me, sticky and unshakable—a spider’s web I couldn’t break free from.

In an instant, the safety was ripped away, her presence suffocating me as if her hand was closing around my throat. I needed air.

Slowly—so, so carefully—I uncurled from Xavier’s grasp, shifting away from Kian’s hold, inching my way out of bed. Neither stirred. Xavier mumbled something in his sleep but didn’t wake.

The moment my bare feet touched the cold obsidian floor, a shiver ran up my spine as panic settled deep into my bones. I needed space. I needed to breathe. I needed to?—

“Going somewhere?” The growl cut through the dim light like a blade.

I startled—only for a second—but it was enough.

Idris leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, golden eyes flickering in the firelight, glowing with censure. He’d been there the whole time.

Watching.

Waiting.

His presence filled the room, heat and stillness, silent, and yet unreadable.

I exhaled, rubbing a hand down my face. “I just needed a second.”

Idris didn’t move. “You never just need a second.”

There was something too calm in his tone, something too sharp in his gaze.

My fingers twitched at my sides. “I wasn’t running. I just needed some air.”

His eyes flashed. “You know, I’d believe that if I hadn’t just chased you into the middle of a war zone. Try again.”

His words slammed into me like a battering ram, and yet, they cut so deep it was a wonder I wasn’t bleeding. But Idris wasn’t finished.

“You left.” His voice was too quiet. Too final. “And you didn’t just leave. You cut us off, shut us out.”

My throat tightened. “I had to?—”

“There’s always a choice, Vale.”

But there wasn’t—not one that didn’t leave someone bleeding. Kian and Xavier stirred, their hurt bombarding me through our bond, and that was the breaking point. He didn’t understand—none of them did—how few choices I really had. Magic flared at my fingertips, a crackling heat curling in my lungs, pressing too tightly against my ribcage.

“You weren’t there.” My voice shook, the pain of the last few days crashing into me. “You didn’t see. You didn’t feel it?—”

Idris stepped closer, his eyes burning, his rage filling every millimeter of the room until I could barely breathe under the weight of it. “Then show me. Show me why.”

Idris’ command sliced through my ribs like a blade, cutting past the walls I had been desperately trying to hold up. They didn’t understand. How could they? They had only seen pieces, fragments. They had felt the loss, but I had lived it.

I had to make them see. For the first time since I’d woken on the cavern floor, I let go of the shields I’d clung to so tightly.

The bond between us exploded open, a flood of raw magic pouring from my mind into theirs. I didn’t just show them—I dragged them into my memories, drowning them in everything I had seen, felt, and suffered.

I felt Kian’s breath hitch as the memory yanked him under. Xavier cursed, the sound barely a whisper. Idris… Idris didn’t breathe at all.

They didn’t just watch. No, they were there, seeing it from my eyes. They were living it.

The cavern walls flickered in dim light, as Rune’s massive body crumpled against the stone. His breathing was shallow, his golden eyes resigned.

I showed them everything—the weight of his body pressing against mine as I knelt beside him. The sickening realization that there was no saving him.

Rune’s voice echoed in their minds, as desperate and firm as it had been that night.

“You must kill me, Vale. Stab me right in the heart. And then you must stab Idris in his. Only through your power can we merge, and the curse be undone.”

The silence from my mates was deafening. They felt the impossible choice sitting heavy in my gut as I begged Rune for another way.

“I can’t, Rune. Rune, I can’t do that.”

Grief wrapped around them like iron chains. I let them feel the tears burning down my face, the helplessness strangling me as I lifted my glowing blade—as Rune gave himself to me, trusting me to end his life.

They felt the exact moment the sword pierced his heart.

The pain. His roar. The soul-deep agony as his magic shattered, flowing through me in a tidal wave so powerful it ripped me apart.

Then—Idris screaming.

His rage, his devastation, his breaking.

I let them feel what it was to die for him.

Then my memories shifted, turned. The air was thick—wrong. The cavern floor was ice beneath my cheek, my body empty, broken, unmoored. They felt my body breaking—they felt me die. The crushing silence, the weight of Rune’s soul ripped from mine.

And then—Zamarra.

They saw the shadows curling around her, her unnatural beauty, her cruel smile. They felt the terror that had paralyzed me as her voice whispered through my mind.

“You freed him, little queen. But you freed me, too.”

They felt my powerless struggle, my desperation as the shadows swallowed me whole, as her claws dug into my soul.

Then—Lirael’s light. The warmth that dragged me back from death. They saw the goddess, the figure woven from pure light, the one who had touched my cheek and whispered the truth.

“The book, my daughter. You must go back to the book.”

And then I woke up, but I wasn’t the same. I was never the same.

They felt the sharp, bitter pain of rejection as I walked into the war room, as Idris barely even looked at me. The way the bond between us strained, the distance between us wider than it had ever been. And then, his words.

“You unleashed her, Vale. You broke the curse, and now the realm is at risk. So tell me—how do we fix this?”

The moment of pure devastation. The way my stomach had dropped, the way my fingers curled into fists, fighting back tears because I knew he blamed me. Because he wasn’t wrong. They felt the betrayal coil in my chest when he spoke of Nyrah, when he dismissed my warning.

“I’ve already mourned you once. Do me a favor and don’t make me do it twice.”

I let them experience the agony of that moment, the way my heart shattered at his dismissal—let them feel everything. My abandonment, my confusion, my anguish. Even now, it hurt so bad I wanted to scream from the pain of it.

Gasping through my tears, I ripped myself free from the link, my chest heaving. Magic still crackled in my veins, raw and searing, but I didn’t care. They’d finally seen it from my eyes.

The agony. The impossible choices. The unbearable weight of Rune’s death and my own. The cruelty of Zamarra, the truth of the Dreaming, the moment Idris had looked me in the eyes and dismissed me like I was nothing.

My legs trembled, barely holding me up as I stared at the floor. Silence crushed the room, thick and suffocating. If they didn’t believe me after that, there would be no repairing what was broken between us.

Kian’s sharp inhale cut through the stillness like a knife. His hand dragged down his face, his shoulders stiff, his amber eyes wide and glassy. Through the bond, his emotions bombarded me—the horror, the ache, the sheer disbelief of what I had just forced them to relive. A broken sound escaped his throat, something raw and aching.

His fingers balled into fists at his sides. “Gods, Vale.”

The weight of my name on his lips nearly shattered me. He didn’t yell. He didn’t rage. But his voice shook, and that—that hurt more than if he had screamed.

“You did all that alone.”

Xavier let out a slow, shaking breath, his fingers twitching—then suddenly, he was moving. One second, I was standing there, still drowning in the magic of the bond, and the next, Xavier’s arms were around me. He pulled me tight against him, his grip so firm, so grounding, it nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.

“Vale.” My name came out in a whisper, hoarse and unsteady.

His chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, and when I tilted my head up, his blue eyes were burning, rimmed red, filled with something broken. He pressed his forehead to my hair, his grip tightening as if he let go, I might disappear again.

“You were breaking apart,” he whispered, his voice shattered. “I should have known. I should have felt it.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the sudden urge to sob. “You weren’t supposed to,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “I didn’t want any of you to. Sharing it felt cruel at the time.”

Kian let out a slow, shuddering breath, dragging a trembling hand over his mouth. He took a small step closer, his eyes locked on mine.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” His voice was softer now, grief-stricken rather than angry. “Gods, Vale. We would have found another way.”

Would we? Would there have been another way? The answer didn’t matter. Because I hadn’t given them the chance to try.

My stomach twisted, my pulse pounding. “I couldn’t,” I admitted. “If I told you, you would have tried to stop me, and there wasn’t time. We were under attack and Rune wouldn’t let me wait. He was fading too fast. If I didn’t do it then, the curse would have stayed unbroken.”

Kian inhaled sharply, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. He extended a shaky hand like he wanted to reach for me, but he hesitated.

Xavier wasn’t hesitating. He still held me tight, his face buried in my hair, his grip unyielding. His body was warm, steady, but I could feel the slight tremor in his hands.

Kian wasn’t usually quiet. But he was now. Because this—this pain—was not something he knew how to fix.

And Idris?—

The moment Idris broke, I felt it in my soul. His knees hit the obsidian floor with a brutal, echoing thud . I had never seen him like this—not when we fought. Not when we bled. His hands fisted in his hair, his jaw locking, his head bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the stone.

The King of Credour, the Beast, the man I’d feared all my life, the mate who had once sworn he would never kneel to anyone—was on his knees for me.

His broad chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, his fingers digging into his thighs like he needed to hold himself together or he’d fall apart completely. Golden eyes—usually sharp and unreadable—were shattered. Ravaged. Ruined.

“I should have known.” His voice was hoarse, wrecked, raw with agony. “Gods, Vale—I should have fucking known.”

I had seen Idris furious. I had seen him cold, ruthless, terrifying. But I had never seen him broken. Not until right then.

His lips parted on a silent, ragged exhale, his whole body trembling as if my memories had burned through his soul and left him hollow—left him ruined.

My chest ached, and my throat burned. I should have hated him. If I were smart, I would hate him until the day I died. But when I looked into his eyes—into the sheer, unbearable guilt in them—I knew that he had hated himself a hell of a lot more than I ever could.

He lifted his eyes to mine, and the pain in them shattered me. Ravaged. Wrecked. Desperate. Tears lined his lashes, his golden irises flickering like molten light, like a star dying out.

Xavier’s fingers tightened on my waist. Kian let out a slow, shuddering breath. Idris’ lips parted, but he didn’t speak.

He reached for me and then stopped—like he didn’t deserve to touch me. Like he had just realized how much he had broken us. I was his mate, carried his mark—all their marks. His gaze traced the swirling light tattoos embedded into my skin.

His lips parted, his jaw working, his breath coming too fast. But he didn’t speak, didn’t move—just knelt before me, waiting for judgment. Waiting for me to tell him he’d failed—that he’d lost me.

He thought he had ruined everything, and maybe he had. But gods help me—I still loved him. I still loved all of them. They were pieces of my soul. As much as I wanted to make him suffer, a part of me just couldn’t twist the knife, couldn’t make him bleed any more than I already had.

Reaching for him first, I allowed my fingers to graze across his cheek. The bond—that ancient magic that tied us so firmly together—snapped tight as his breath shuddered out of him.

My touch drifted lower, tracing the strong lines of his jaw, feeling the faintest tremble in his skin. His head tipped into my touch, his eyes squeezing shut like he couldn’t bear to look at me. Like the weight of his guilt was too much to hold.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

The words twisted in my chest, a wound that still bled, still ached. I should have told him he was right. I should have told him he’d broken me. Instead, I clutched his shirt, pulling him closer.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “No, you don’t.”

His eyes snapped open, pain and desperation warring in their depths. His body tensed, waiting for the killing blow.

I exhaled, my throat burning. “But I still love you. I never stopped. Even when you left me standing in that war room, even when I carried all of this alone. Even when you hurt me.”

His breath shuddered out of him, his body nearly collapsing forward as if those words had undone him completely. I slid my hands up, framing his face, forcing him to look at me.

“But I love them, too. I love all of you. And I am done trying to prove it. It’s your turn. I need you to fight for this.”

Something shattered in his gaze, something raw and aching, and then he crushed me against him. His arms wrapped around me, his grip desperate, his lips crashing against mine like he was trying to breathe me in. Like he would never let me go.

Every barrier between us fell away as he claimed my mouth, his emotions—raw and ragged—flooded my senses. I fell into the kiss—letting it leech all the poison from my veins as Idris bared his soul to me.

Kian and Xavier pressed in close, their heat surrounding me, steady, grounding, as their barriers lifted as well. Relief and desire warred in my chest as Xavier’s lips brushed my temple, a breath of warmth before he pulled my lips from Idris and replaced them with his own.

It was slow at first. Soft, aching. A promise, a plea, a vow.

Kian trailed feather-soft touches down my spine, his breath warm against my neck, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin. “We won’t fail you again, little witch,” he murmured, his voice quiet but fierce.

Breaking from Xavier, I found Kian’s mouth, his warmth, his taste. He groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me deeper as he staked his own claim.

Everything that had been broken between us—the pain, the separation, the wounds too deep to name—began to heal in their touch. I gasped as Idris’ teeth grazed my neck, his lips tracing fire down my skin.

Xavier fisted my shirt, tugging me back into his kiss. Kian’s arms wrapped around me from behind, his heat pressing against every inch of me, anchoring me.

I felt Idris’ breath, his hands trembling as he slid them over my waist, up my ribs, as if memorizing me all over again. He let out a shaky exhale against my throat.

“I love you.” The words were whispered against my skin over and over, remaking me in a way I hadn’t realized I craved. I arched into them, my head tilting back as heat flooded my veins, the magic flaring bright between us. The bond crackled, pulling tight, snapping into place like a bone being reset.

It healed something inside of me—something I hadn’t quite realized was broken. Their need, their desire filled my mind, my heart.

I had fought alone. I had suffered alone. But here, now, I was theirs again.

Idris gently pulled his tunic from my skin, his gaze reverent as he knelt at my feet. Kian hooked his fingers in the waistband of my underwear, dragging the flimsy garment down my legs as he, too, fell to his knees. Xavier pressed a hungry kiss to my neck, his strong arms holding me up.

The air was thick, pulled taut like a string ready to snap. The bond flared, crackling with power, with heat, with the slow, steady unraveling of everything that had kept us apart.

A fist slammed against the safehouse door, the force rattling the very walls.

The bond snapped tight. The magic between us recoiled, fracturing, as tension surged through me like a knife.

Xavier’s curse was sharp, bitten off at the edges. Kian stiffened, his muscles locking, his head snapping toward the door. Idris was already on his feet, golden eyes burning, magic crackling through the air like a live wire.

No one was supposed to know we were here.

And yet—someone had found us.

The air grew thick and charged. Shadows pressed in around the edges of the room, whispering warnings in a language older than time.

I met Idris’ gaze, my pulse hammering as I yanked my leathers up, fastening them with shaking fingers. His jaw tightened, and his golden eyes darted toward the door, then back to me.

Another bang rattled through the space, louder this time. Relentless.

A slow, cold dread slithered through my gut as I dragged Idris’ tunic over my head, pulse hammering.

They weren’t knocking.

They were trying to break in.