The Faltered Bond

Chapter 15 | Numb

JACE W.

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My eyes drift toward the horizon, lost in the vast emptiness that stretches before me. The day's events had caught up with me hours ago, yet the weight of them still presses heavy against my chest. Xavier's death is as fresh as the blood of the rogues I slaughtered, their lifeless eyes— as his own—burned into my memory. The cries of my people echo in my mind, a cruel symphony of suffering and chaos. And when I close my eyes, all I see are the towering flames that swallowed my home whole, taking any trade of my childhood down with it.

So why do I feel so numb? So disjointed from it all?

I lower my gaze to my hands, the faint remnants of blood long washed away, yet the sight of them churns my stomach. Why me? Why did I survive while so many others perished? Why has Selene cursed me with the weight of this unbearable burden?

A voice snaps me from my thoughts.

"Jace."

I startle, my body tensing as my eyes lock onto Kyra's sunken, knowing gaze. How long had she been standing there, watching me unravel?

I push the question away, schooling my thoughts in the process.

The air thickens with tension, and her gaze sharpens, unfazed by my silent irritation. There's something unsettling about the way she observes me, like she sees through the surface, reading between the lines of an open book.

Gods I hate it—

A muscle ticks in my jaw. "Don't you have someone else's business to stick your nose into?"

Her eyes narrow slightly, but her voice remains level. "Watch your tone, young man. I am still your equal."

I scoff but bite back the retort forming on my tongue. Something in her expression shifts, and instead of arguing, she simply extends a wooden bowl toward me. "Eat this."

A putrid smell hits my nose, making my stomach lurch. I barely suppress a grimace.

"I'm not hungry," I mutter, my gaze drifting to the horizon as the foul stench of whatever's in the bowl curls into my nostrils. The slime green contents bubble and writhe, a sickly, unnatural shade that makes my stomach churn. What in the name of Selene did she boil in this? It looks like it could eat through the very air around it, let alone anything that dared touch it.

Kyra hums knowingly, taking a spoonful of the murky concoction herself. "Still a picky eater, I see."

A dry chuckle escapes me despite myself. "I'm not."

Hardly. This woman, despite her many talents, cannot cook to save her life. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if she somehow managed to burn water to a crisp—

The thought alone is enough to make my stomach twist even further. I mask a gag with a cough, swallowing against the nausea that rises unbidden in my throat.

But then, without warning, the unease curls into something violent. My gut clenches, bile burning its way up my throat. The world tilts, and I barely manage to stagger to the nearest tree before spewing my stomach's contents onto the base of the trunk.

A violent retch wracks my body, leaving me breathless. The nausea fades as quickly as it came, but the lingering unease remains. I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, swallowing thickly.

What the hell was that?

Kyra's sharp eyes flicker to the corner of my vision, her gaze unrelenting.

"Were you shot?"

I drag a sleeve across my mouth, wiping away any lingering trace of vomit. "No. I wasn't."

Her lips press into a thin line, unconvinced.