Page 44 of Thorns & Fire (The Ashes of Thezmarr #2)

Wren

‘An alchemist must always trust in themself. Good instincts are vital for their own protection in what can often be a deadly art’

– Drevenor Academy Handbook

W REN LOOKED FROM the flecks of gold to the beautiful Warsword before her. ‘How can you say we were soul bonded?’ she asked in wonder. ‘This is proof right here...’

Torj’s throat bobbed, and he reached for the nearest piece of clothing, which caused unease to ripple through Wren. She pulled her dress over her head, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

When they were both dressed, she sat down on his bed, where she didn’t fail to notice the little bundle of dried lavender on his windowsill, from when they’d harvested the herb during her novice training. Her heart seized.

I want you so badly I can’t breathe.

Torj didn’t sit. He paced the length of his room. Once, then twice, passing a hand over his face as though he needed to gather himself to get through this next part.

‘I didn’t believe it at first,’ he murmured, his hand drifting to the scars on his chest. ‘Even when I saw glimmers of it, even when I felt things between us that pointed right to that fucking book. Those who are soul bonded are drawn together, across time and distance. They can share dreams and visions. They can sense one another’s emotions.

It manifests as a gold thread, linking the pair. ..’

Though she knew it already, as Torj spoke the words, it was like a piece of a life-long puzzle was clicking into place. Wren felt the truth of it echoing in her bones, in the lightning that sang beneath her skin, that called out to her from the scars over Torj’s heart.

She stared at him, her voice hoarse as she said, ‘That’s us...’

‘It was.’

Wren gnawed on the inside of her cheek, a knot forming in her stomach. ‘Why wouldn’t you want to believe it? Was it so terrible? The thought of being connected to me in that way?’ It came out as a whisper, a tremor of insecurity barely hidden.

Torj’s gaze shot to her, realization dawning on his handsome face. He rushed to her, falling to his knees before her where she sat on the edge of his bed. ‘No,’ he murmured, brushing her hair behind her ear. ‘Of course not.’

‘Then why deny it? Why not tell me about it?’ she asked, freezing beneath his touch, torn between the desire to lean into his warmth and the need to protect herself.

Torj closed his eyes, as though bracing himself. When he opened them, they were filled with a pain that mirrored her own. ‘Because there are negative consequences to a connection like that. Consequences I didn’t want to face, didn’t want to force on you.’

‘Force on me?’ Wren echoed, her voice rising. ‘I was already part of this, as much as you.’

‘I was trying to protect you, Embers...’ His voice was raw, pleading.

‘What happened?’ she demanded, her stomach turning to lead. ‘What happened to the golden thread? What happened to our soul bond?’

‘The day of the attack at Drevenor—’ Torj took a trembling breath. ‘I severed it.’

Wren blinked at him. She was sure she was missing something, that there was some part she hadn’t understood. ‘You did what...?’

Torj clutched her hands in his. ‘When I was wounded... we were connected. That pain you felt? That was my pain. You were bleeding because of me. You were dying because of me...’ His voice broke.

‘I had a warrior’s second, a mere breath between life and death, to make that choice. .. to make my actions mean something.’

Wren remembered the lancing pain through her chest, as though she had been speared with a red-hot knife.

She remembered not understanding, not knowing why there was crimson flowing from her breast or why she was screaming.

When she had come to, there had been no mark.

No evidence of that agony. An invisible lie.

Wren pushed his hands away. ‘And you thought that instead of telling me all this, it was better to break my heart? Better to lie? Better to make me question everything we had felt for one another?’

‘I was trying to save you.’

‘You did save me. And then you lied. Again and again, Bear Slayer.’ Wren stood, putting distance between them, her arms wrapping around herself as if to hold the pieces of her heart together.

She used the name pointedly, for in that moment, she wanted to hurt him, wanted to put the distance between them that he’d created when he’d thrown those words at her in the gardens.

‘You made me someone I’m not.’

‘There is no ‘always’ for people like us.’

‘It’s a curse , Embervale.’

‘How could you take that choice from me? Hide it from me?’ she asked, her chest aching anew at the memories crashing back into her.

‘If you had been in my position...’ Torj shook his head, his eyes lined with silver, as if he too could see their past unfurling before him.

‘If you knew what it was like to watch the light leaving your eyes... If you knew you could stop it, prevent it from happening again... Tell me you wouldn’t make the same decision. ’

Wren looked at him – really looked at him. At the man she loved, the man who had hurt her, the man who had tried to protect her in all the wrong ways. She saw the fear in his eyes, the regret, the love that still burned beneath it all.

‘I can’t,’ she croaked, her anger giving way to a deep, aching grief. ‘You took that choice away from me.’

‘Wren...’ Torj murmured, reaching for her again. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ Still on his knees, the Warsword cradled her hands in his. ‘Tell me how to fix this. Tell me how to make this right. I would do anything for you.’

‘I know.’ Wren’s voice cracked again. ‘But I don’t know how... how to move past this.’

‘Wren, please...’

Once again, she pulled her hands from his, letting her fingers drift to the scar at her throat, the wound he’d closed in those final moments of the war, her flesh searing beneath her own storm power at his guidance. ‘I’m sorry ... I’m so sorry,’ he had murmured then.

Now, he said those words again, his hands empty in his lap, as though he didn’t know what to do without her touch. He looked younger in his devastation, in his pain.

Wren struggled to swallow the lump in her throat.

‘I forgive you, Torj. I do.’ The words surprised her as much as they did him, by the look on his face.

‘But forgiveness doesn’t erase what happened.

It doesn’t change that I can’t fathom why you lied.

Why you hurt me so deeply... How can I trust you? You didn’t trust me.’

‘I understand,’ Torj said hoarsely. He bowed his head and stood, his shoulders caved in, despair lining his face. ‘Where does this leave us, then?’

‘I don’t know.’ Her voice was soft but steady. ‘I know how you feel about me...’

She moved towards the door, pausing with her hand on the latch. Without turning back, she spoke one last time, her words hanging in the air between them like the remnants of their severed bond.

‘But it isn’t always enough, is it?’