Page 9 of Broken Fates (Severed Flames #3)

Chapter 9

Kian

V ale was standing.

She was breathing.

She was whole.

But my body still hadn’t caught up to that fact.

Because for a moment—for one fucking moment—I had felt what it would be like to lose her. Again. And I couldn’t take it.

I moved before I could stop myself, closing the distance between us, grabbing her shoulders—not hard, not to hurt, just to feel that she was real, that she wasn’t slipping through my fingers again.

“Again, what the fuck was that?” My voice came out rough, uneven.

She flinched—not from me, but from everything. Her green eyes were wide with something I didn’t like—something like dread.

“I—I don’t know.”

Bullshit.

Xavier’s voice cut through the thick tension, sharp and low. “You were frozen—unmoving. The temple was shaking, and Idris looked like he was about to rip a hole through the world trying to get you to react.”

Vale swallowed hard. “I wasn’t—” She stopped, shaking her head. “I was awake.”

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Yeah? Well, you sure as fuck weren’t talking.”

She opened her mouth, but I wasn’t done. My hands slid down her arms, skimming over her wrists, checking for wounds—checking for anything.

I couldn’t fucking stop myself.

Because the last time I had held her like this, she’d stopped breathing in my arms. The last time, I had to watch while she slipped through my fingers, helpless to do anything but scream her name and pray to gods who never fucking answered.

“Don’t,” I ground out, swallowing down my fear.

Her brows furrowed. “Don’t what?”

I lifted my head, locking my gaze onto hers. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

Something flickered in her expression—guilt, defiance, something sharp enough to cut.

“I had to,” she whispered.

I let go of her, stepping back like I’d been burned.

She had to? She had to nearly fucking die on me again?

A bitter, choked laugh ripped out of me. “Of course you did.” I raked a hand through my hair, my pulse still a mess. “Of course you had to go alone, had to do this on your own—because why the fuck would you ever stop and think about the rest of us?”

She flinched.

Good.

I wasn’t trying to hurt her, but gods—she had to understand. She had to know what it did to me. To Xavier. To Idris. To all of us every time she threw herself into danger like this.

Xavier exhaled sharply beside me. “We ran straight into a fucking warzone to find you, Vale.” His jaw tightened, his voice dropping lower. “You don’t get to do this alone. Not anymore.”

Vale’s throat bobbed, but her chin lifted—stubborn as always. “As much as I appreciate you saving my ass, I didn’t ask you to. You have your kingdom to run and your war to fight, and I have mine. This is something I have to do.”

I laughed again—hollow, rough, and a little unhinged. “Have to?” I echoed. “You have to walk into a temple full of unknown magic? Have to nearly get yourself killed by mages? Do you even hear yourself?”

“I didn’t plan for that to happen!” she snapped, her voice cracking. “I didn’t know?—”

“No. You never know. You just run straight into the fire and hope you don’t burn.”

Her magic flared. I felt it crackle through the air, golden light dancing at her fingertips. And my own fire met it—heat sparking over my skin, deep and scorching, because I wasn’t done.

She took a breath, steadying herself. “Everything I have ever done was for the people I love. I won’t apologize for giving a shit about the only fucking family I have left.”

Tears pooled in her eyes as her shoulder sagged. “I don’t want to fight you.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to fight you, either. I just want you to fucking live .”

The words hit her, and for a second, I thought she might actually listen.

Then her hands curled into fists, her voice steady. “It’s not like I did this on a whim. My sister is in danger, and I’m not leaving without her.”

Fire still burned at the edges of my vision, but I forced myself to breathe.

Vale was alive, but she wasn’t listening. She was still standing there, ready to fight me instead of facing reality.

“We need to keep moving.” Her voice was sharp and unyielding. “Nyrah’s out there, and if Zamarra has her?—”

“Then charging in like an idiot will only get you killed.” My voice was just as sharp.

Her mouth pressed into a thin line, but I didn’t back down. We’d chased her across the fucking continent to find her. I was not letting her run off again.

Xavier exhaled through his nose, stepping forward. “Look. We do this together. No more running off.” His pointed gaze shifted to Vale. “No more secrets. No more shutting us out.”

Vale hesitated, but she nodded. “ Fine .”

It wasn’t enough—not for me. I rubbed a hand down my face, trying to force my heart rate back to normal. Xavier was right. We couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep splitting apart every time shit got hard.

But it was damn near impossible when every instinct I had screamed at me to get her the fuck out of here.

Idris finally spoke: “Sevilava.”

Vale blinked, turning to him. “What?”

He adjusted the strap of his scabbard, his jaw tight. “It’s the closest place we can go that might have something— anything —on the Luxa. Old strongholds, records, history. At the very least, it’s the only place we’ll find shelter that isn’t in hostile territory.”

Vale frowned, hesitating. “Why would Sevilava have Luxa strongholds?”

Idris sighed. “Because the Luxa weren’t just witches. They were people. They needed places to live, to train. They had temples, sanctuaries—places hidden away from the Waking. I don’t know if any are still standing, but if there’s even a chance they left something behind, Sevilava is the closest bet.”

“And if there’s nothing left?”

Idris’ eyes darkened. “Then we figure out the next step after you get some fucking sleep.”

Vale opened her mouth to argue, but I was already done.

I stepped in front of her, tilting my head down, voice low and rough. “You are not walking blind into whatever the fuck that was,” I gritted out.

She folded her arms. “I wasn’t alone. Even when I was pulled into the Dreaming, Rune was there.”

I stilled.

“Rune?” My voice was sharp and cutting. “What do you mean Rune was there? Rune is dead.”

Her smile was brittle. “Just another thing I failed at, Kian. He managed to pull me out before Zamarra could?—”

Zamarra.

The name hit like a knife between the shoulder blades, and the entire room tensed at once. Xavier cursed. Idris went rigid.

I grabbed her wrist, voice low and rough. “Zamarra was in the Dreaming with you?”

Vale didn’t flinch, but there was something in her eyes—something raw. “I think she might actually have Nyrah. She said she has plans for her. She wants her as a vessel—whatever the fuck that means.”

A growl rumbled in my chest, my flames flaring. We were not letting Zamarra hurt her sister. Vale could see it in my face. I knew she could. But she was still standing there, ready to fight me instead of listening.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to breathe, trying to think, but it was damn near impossible when every instinct I had screamed at me to get her the fuck out of here.

I needed her safe.

But she wasn’t safe, not even with us. Not while she was still bleeding magic and still hell-bent on running herself into the ground.

And then she made it worse.

“I need to get Vetra,” she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

I stared at her. “What?”

“Vetra,” she repeated. “The horse. She saved my life. I’m not leaving her behind.”

Gods. Of fucking course.

Vale would never just walk away from something she loved—not even when it would make all of our lives a hell of a lot easier. I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to think. The temple was on the border of Sevilava and Girovia. We were close.

Vale wanted her warhorse, I wanted her alive, and Idris wanted a fucking plan.

Fine.

We could work with that.

I turned to Xavier. “The horses?”

Xavier’s gaze shifted toward the tree line. “They should still be where we left them. Getting them through the ruins won’t be easy, but we can do it.” His gaze flicked to Vale. “You’re sure she can handle the trip?”

Vale bristled, her gaze darting from her horse and back to me. “Of course she can.”

I huffed a bitter laugh. “He meant you , Vale.”

She glared at me, fire flashing in her eyes, but I didn’t fucking care. Because she was exhausted. Because she was still pale and shaking. Because I had just watched her almost die again, and I wasn’t in the mood for her bullshit.

I moved closer, my voice dropping lower. “You need rest. And you need a plan. We all do.”

Vale clenched her jaw, her mind still shutting me out, refusing to let me see her thoughts. Then, finally— finally —she nodded.

She wanted her damn warhorse? Fine. But she wasn’t leaving without protection.

A few minutes later, the horses were retrieved, and I swung up onto my mount, muscles tight, every part of me still on edge. My hands flexed against the reins as I shot one last look at Vale.

She was still standing there like she was thinking about fighting me on this, like she was plotting another path that left me—left us—behind.

Gods fucking help me.

I exhaled sharply, swinging my leg back over my mount before grabbing her by the waist and hauling her onto the horse she’d managed to steal from somewhere.

She let out a startled sound as I set her firmly in the saddle, but I didn’t let go yet.

Instead, I crouched to tighten the straps, adjust the stirrups, and make damn sure the saddle was sitting right. She must have thrown it on in a hurry before running into that temple, because the girth was too loose, the angle slightly off.

The whole time, she didn’t say a word.

Maybe she was too tired to fight me. Maybe she knew I needed to do something, anything, to keep from losing my fucking mind.

I finished adjusting the saddle, giving it a firm tug before finally stepping back. I met her eyes, holding them. And that’s when it hit me.

We’d chased her across the fucking continent. Tracked her through hostile territory, through blood and smoke and war, through everything .

And she had still left.

She had still run.

And I’d let her.

My heart slammed against my ribcage, my vision blurring at the edges as fire licked at my skin, as every terrifying, agonizing moment of searching for her came crashing down all at once.

She had almost died on me. Again .

I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t lose her again.

I moved before I could stop myself, fisting my hands in her cloak and yanking her down off the saddle, catching her as she stumbled.

She barely had a second to breathe before I crashed my mouth against hers.

Hard. Desperate.

Not gentle, not careful, because I wasn’t fucking either of those things right then. Because I was breaking. Because I had spent hours picturing her cold, lifeless, gone .

And now she was here. Warm. Alive. Mine .

I felt the second she surrendered, her hands gripping my jacket, clutching me back just as hard. Her breath hitched against my lips, her whole body pressed against mine, caught in the same storm, the same fire.

Her magic flared. I tasted it on my tongue—bright and sharp and alive.

But when I finally pulled back, panting, shaking, feeling like I was about to tear apart from the inside out, I let my forehead rest against hers.

And gods help me, I whispered it: “Don’t you fucking do that again.”

Her fingers tightened against my chest. “Kian?—”

I kissed her again. Softer this time, but still urgent. Still rough.

Because I needed this. I needed her. But I had to let go.

I forced myself to pull back, to lift her and settle her back onto the damn horse where she belonged. Where I could fucking see her.

She didn’t fight me.

Maybe she finally understood.

I crouched, tightened the girth one last time, adjusted the straps, made damn sure the saddle was set right.

Then I looked up at her, at my mate, at the love of my life, at the woman who was going to fucking kill me one day. And I meant every damn word when I said:

“Because I swear to the gods, if you scare me like that again, Vale”—I narrowed my eyes, making her hear me—“I will tie you to the fucking horse myself.”