Page 36

“Look at me.”

The command in his tone has my eyes snapping open. His blue eyes are so light that they could be crystals. His face is smooth, his calmness seeping in through my building panic. “Tell me later.”

Clattering draws my gaze away. Shit, I’m shaking, and it’s moving the soft mattress. I swallow, but my throat is too tight. I meet Valen’s gaze. I need to do this. It’s the right thing to do.

“The Magistrate was looking for Vin-Vin…” I gag and cough, wheezing a whispered, “your dad.”

Valen’s brows rise, and that’s the only change in his smooth face. His hand on my shoulder doesn’t stop stroking. The one around my wrist is firm but not crushing.

I hold my breath, desperately searching him before asking, “You’re not mad?”

He laughs, and the change in his expression is hypnotic. No wonder Tor loved him so much. Those crystal eyes dance, his cold features warming. He’s so breathtakingly beautiful. His head tilts. “Is that what this little episode you’re having is about? Oh, my sweet, foolish, martyring magician. That body is not my father.”

I gape. “It’s not?”

“No. My father is currently with the most powerful weavers within the Order. They are discussing how best to put down Atticus without ruining the Archweaver line or passing the position on to his son. They want a non-Androclaria Archweaver next, and my father is convincing them that I am not a traitor who picked the weaver who cursed the Order over them, but a protector of the only living weaver who could break the curse. It’s why I’m here and not with him. Trust me, my father is well and returning in the morning.”

Yet, the sickness doesn’t go away. “Are you sure? You’ve spoken to him?”

“I am certain. Astoria would’ve known it was him. Besides, it would be a very bad move to kill my father. His power would pass on to me, making me far more difficult to hunt or control. I’d also be able to access the Archweaver estate.”

“How?”

“The Preservation Councilor’s ring. It’s a key through the wards. No Councilor can be barred from the Archweaver. It is the sacred right. I would inherit it.”

I nod even though my heart is still racing. My shaking has eased, and the sweat is beginning to cool.

Valen’s face softens with his posture. He’s closer, his cologne filling my lungs, my heart speeding for a whole new reason. “How you survive in your line of work with a soft heart intact is a miracle from the Tapestry.”

I swallow, and my lips part with my intake of breath. “It’s not that soft.”

“But it is. It attracts those who were raised by vicious, hardened creatures. A succulent morsel for us to sink our teeth into.”

My hand is still on his chest, and his heart beats against my palm. The rhythm speeds when Valen’s gaze falls to my lips. His thumb slides along my chest’s bandaging when he says, “I think I know what’s happening to your scar.”

I startle and look down where his hand rests on the bandages. “What do you mean?”

“There’s something odd about the wound there. I forced the edges back together, but it will not heal. It took me three tries to put a statis spell on it so it can’t get worse.”

I reclaim my hand from his chest to sever this building tension between us. I need more time to figure out what to do with Valen in that aspect, but for now, I latch onto the change of topic readily. “Sometimes it feels like something is feeding on it.”

Valen’s gaze sharpens. “Does it still feel that way?”

“Not right now, but it aches.”

“Interesting. If I’m correct, Alasdair has created a link to it. An Entropy curse of some sort, so he can draw on your pain and become stronger.”

I snort. “If that’s all it is, I can break the curse no problem. It’s Tor I’m worried about.”

Valen eyes my hands. “I noticed your rings nearly burned to your bones again.”

I flex them. They don’t have much mobility with the thick wrappings. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Valen nods. “The battle was unavoidable, but right now there is nothing that can be done. You need to rest and heal fully before you attempt to break the curse on your scar. It’s the only way we can free Tori.”

My lips twist, but Valen cuts me off with a sharp, “You are to stay in this bed and rest, do you understand? Anything else will be a hindrance to your cause. Rest assured, it is not wasted time. We can use it to gather valuable clues to Alasdair’s new existence.”

But it feels like wasting time. At the bare minimum, I should attempt to steal Antonia’s statue and get it back here where it will be safe.