Page 29

Kieran

Evening settled in slow and golden, the way it does after a long day of blood, sweat, and insult-laced motivation from Thea.

The field had been full of clumsy footwork, blistered palms, and one very satisfying moment when Dahlia managed to knock Silas flat on his ass during a ward-breaking exercise. I was proud of her. Painfully so.

She wasn’t a prodigy—thank the gods for that. She was better. She was persistent.

After the last round of drills ended and Dahlia all but collapsed in the grass, I slipped inside to get a jump on dinner.

Something simple. Something warm. Something to make up for the fact that every single person in this house was a stubborn, overachieving maniac who thought hydration and rest were optional.

I made it three steps into the kitchen, then hit the wall.

Not physically. Not visibly. But I felt it. Like walking into a web of cold air and static, a shiver beneath the skin. I’d nearly forgotten about it.

The locket’s boundary.

I stopped short, eyes narrowing.

Dahlia was still outside, near the far edge of the yard. But that wasn’t possible. The last time we’d measured the limit, I couldn’t get past the middle of the kitchen without feeling the tether yank. This—this was nearly back to the distance I remembered from the first day.

I turned slowly, stepping outside, eyes finding her figure silhouetted in the yard.

She was farther than before. And I wasn’t in pain.

Behind me, Silas appeared from the hallway, arms crossed like he hadn’t just been the recipient of a magical shove strong enough to knock over a tree.

“What is it?” he asked.

I didn’t look at him. “The boundary shifted.”

He nodded. “Then it’s expanding again.”

I finally met his gaze. “Why?”

Silas moved closer, voice low. “She’s growing. Dahlia. Her magic’s developing fast. Strong. If she’s the tether anchoring you here, it stands to reason that as she expands her reach, so does yours.”

I hated how much sense that made.

“She’s not ready for what’s coming,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “She thinks she is, but she’s not. And I’m dragging her deeper into it every time I breathe near her.”

Silas tilted his head. “You think you have a choice?”

I glared at him. “Don’t start.”

“No, really,” he said. “You think you’re dragging her? Look at her, Kieran. She’s sprinting into it with her eyes open. You didn’t pull her into this. She chose it.”

I wanted to argue. But my throat tightened.

Because he was right. And that made it worse.

She was brave enough to meet the storm. I was the one who wanted to turn her into something untouchable. Shielded. Safe.

But safe people didn’t break curses.

I stepped into the kitchen again, only to halt as something soft collided with my ankle.

Oleander.

He’d apparently claimed the tile near the fridge as his domain, and glared at me like I’d trespassed.

“Move,” I told him. He didn’t.

I summoned a shadow tendril. He bit it.

“He’s going to be the death of me,” I grumbled, stepping over him as he flopped dramatically in protest.

I walked back outside, toward her. She looked up, eyes glassy with exhaustion, but she smiled when she saw me. Even now. Even like this.

“You look like someone told you I put poison in the pancakes,” she teased.

I dropped down beside her on the grass and picked a long blade of grass and twirled it through my fingers.

“You’re expanding the boundary,” I said.

Her smile faded. “That’s good, right?”

I hesitated. Then nodded. “It means your magic is adapting. It’s… syncing with mine.”

Her face went stony. “You’re scared.”

“I’m always scared when it comes to you.” I exhaled. “Not because I doubt you. But because I don’t know if I can protect you from this. From me. From what it means to be bound to something you didn’t ask for.”

Dahlia didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

Instead, she leaned in, forehead resting lightly against mine, her voice steady despite the tremble in it.

“Kieran,” she whispered, “you keep saying I didn’t ask for this. But what if I want it?”

I blinked, breath catching.

“I want the bond,” she said, firmer now. “Not because it’s romantic or magical or tragic—though, let’s be honest, it’s all of those things. But because it means something. Because it connects us. And not just you and me— all of us. This weird little family we’ve built.”

She touched my chest, right over the place where the shadows always lived beneath my skin.

“I want to protect them. I want to fight for Henry, and Thea, and maybe even Silas when he’s not being a pain in the ass. And I want to fight for you. ” Her voice cracked, just a little. “But I can’t do that if I’m sitting on the sidelines while everyone else bleeds for me.”

I opened my mouth, but she pressed her fingers to my lips, shaking her head.

“I don’t want to be someone you have to protect, Kieran. I want to be someone who stands next to you. Who makes the cost of this curse worth it. ”

Her hand slid down to mine, threading our fingers together.

“So don’t tell me I didn’t ask for this,” she murmured. “I’m asking now.”

The air shifted. Like it heard her too.