Page 233 of The Devil May Care

“I know.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Thank you for not saying anything.”

Sarai exhales, the sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh with no humor in it. “You think silence makes me complicit?”

“I think you understand why I had to do it.”

“I understand you made a choice she didn’t get to make.”

The words land like strikes, clean and merciless.

“She wanted to go,” I say. “If she hadn’t, the break wouldn’t have opened. The Flame doesn’t answer to command, it responds to want.”

Sarai crosses her arms. “You sound like every fool who’s ever trusted fire to know mercy. Fire doesn’t care if it burns down your home, Caziel. It only cares that it burns.”

I meet her gaze. “You think I planned this?”

Her silence is answer enough.

“I didn’t know, at first,” I continue. “About the bond. I didn’t believe it could take root. She’s human. She shouldn’t have been able to hold it.”

“And yet.”

“And yet,” I echo. “I didn’t trick her. The Flame would’ve refused me if she hadn’t wanted it. It doesn’t bend to lies.”

Sarai studies me for a long moment, the glow from her mark reflecting off the metal in my hands.

“Then why send her away?”

“Because my father won’t stop until he breaks her. And if he learns the truth of what’s between us…” I shake my head. “He’ll use it to burn us both.”

Sarai’s jaw tightens. “So you saved her by binding her to you.”

“I saved her by sending her home.” I lift the pendant at my throat—its twin to the one she wears. The ember inside flickers faintly, a heartbeat of light. “It’s still burning. If the bond holds, it’ll wake in her when she remembers. When she wants to remember. She’ll find her way back. After the Rite. When my Father is gone. When it’s safe.”

Sarai tilts her head, watching the ember pulse. “You’re sure?”

“I am.”

She snorts softly. “You sound like a man praying to be right.”

“Maybe I am that too.”

Something rustles from the corner of the room. A low, disapproving growl. George emerges from the shadows, tail high, eyes like embers in the dark. He hops onto the bed as though he owns it, circles twice, then glares at me before curling up on her pillow.

Sarai arches a brow. “Looks like someone stayed behind.”

“He didn’t want to,” I murmur. “He fought me the whole way. Bit me, actually.”

Her mouth twitches. “Good for him. You might want to watch your back, Ember Heir. Between your father and that beast, you’re not the most dangerous thing in this keep.”

A short laugh escapes me—quiet, brittle, but real. “If he kills me in my sleep, I’ll deserve it.”

Sarai shakes her head. “You know, I almost admire your conviction. Almost. But don’t confuse mercy with theft, Caziel. You took her choice.”

“I gave her a chance.”

“You think you did,” she says softly. “But you of all people should know that want can be coerced. Fire answers desperation too.”

I look down at the pendant again. Its glow steadies, faint but alive. “She’s stronger than desperation.”