Page 209 of The Chains You Defy

But instead, I observed his profile while he slept. He always appeared so much softer and more peaceful during a slumber, and my fingers twitched to touch his cheek. If only my arm didn’tweigh a ton.

The telltale rhythmic purr around my waist alerted me to Harc’s presence, and a smile invaded my features. Yes, I’d missed my little pet as well.

The sound of rain prattling on cloth hung in the air, and I glanced up before I realized we were resting under a baldachin. Not once had Dion bothered to build a roof over our camp during all our travels, and the simple fact he’d caved, now of all times, told me more about my situation than I could securely digest.

I was tired, but my head was clearer than it had been in a long time. Almost without conscious effort, memories of the last days or weeks sorted themselves, from my arrival at the Cuirt until its bloody demise.

Not all recollections were coherent. Most of them remained engulfed in fuzzy clouds and held a surreal edge, but the moment I recalled how trusting I’d been toward the resident fae, I couldn’t help myself—tears broke free.

Only a heartbeat later, Dion’s arms tightened around me, and his sleep-drunken voice rumbled in my ear. “Don’t cry, my heart. You’re killing me when you’re in pain.”

“I did so,” a giant hiccup shook my body, “much wrong.”

“Calm down, Nayana. You mentioned how they drugged you. Yes, Laiga is a drug, a bad one. You weren’t yourself. They took advantage of you. In a way, they weren’t better than the cretin you’d brought to justice in your hometown.” His voice transformed into something darker as he tugged me deeper into his embrace. “And this time, I avenged you.”

“You—you aren’t angry?”

“Oh, I’m livid, Nayana. But not because of anything you did. I’m furious about how they stole your agency.How yet another person or more decided they had a right to take away your free will.”

“But I didn’t—I didn’t fight them, Dion. I—” Another sob rattled me, and I mentally prepared myself for Dion to push me away at any second. “Cantarlann initiated me because I agreed, and the same with the ritual.”

“The drugged version of you did. They robbed your sanity and implanted another reality into your mind, if that makes sense.”

“You don’t hate me?”

“No. Fuck, Naya, no. Those fae took advantage of you.”

Slowly, my tears dried, and relief settled over me like a warm blanket. I pressed my face into Dion’s chest—clothed in one of the simple cotton tunics he always wore when sleeping outside—and basked in his scent and warmth. My limbs were heavy, and breathing was a chore that required more energy than I was able to muster. “Dion?”

“Yes, Nayana?”

“Is there something more wrong with me than the parasite?”

Dion’s loaded silence confirmed that my hunch was correct, and I peered into his beautiful face, which was contorted in emotional pain. Simultaneously, a realization shot through me.

What was this emptiness? This was as if—

Dion’s magic.

His magic was gone.

Agitated, I wriggled in his arms, no matter how much energy the movement cost me. “Dion, your powers.”

“Calm down, Naya.”

“Your darkness is—gone. Did you spend it all on revenge?”

“Fuck, you don’t remember? They—those bastards cut our binding.” He shifted, fumbled around with his bracelet and, after he’d opened the clasp, showed me the scarred skin underneath.

No.

The inky living pattern of divine darkness was absent.

Gone.

The binding had been severed.

Once upon a time, I’d believed tethering myself to another soul would equal voluntarily wandering into a prison of my own making. But now, I knew better.