Cassian's POV
I was dying, and this woman had accidentally become my only lifeline.
The irony would have been funny if I wasn't so furious.
"Your uncle cursed you?" Elara's voice was small and scared. "Why would he do that?"
"To control me." I released her and stepped back, needing space to think. "Malachai raised me after my parents were executed. Trained me. Turned me into a weapon. But weapons can turn on their masters, so he cursed me with slow death. As long as I stay isolated, stay alone, the curse feeds on me. The only cure is a genuine emotional bond with another person."
"But you didn't want to bond with anyone."
"Exactly. Malachai made sure I'd either remain his loyal tool or die trying to escape." I laughed bitterly. "He never imagined someone would accidentally trap me with wild magic and force a bond on me."
Elara wrapped her arms around herself. "So the soul tether is keeping you alive."
"For now. But in thirty days when the spell ends—"
"You die." She looked at me with horror. "Unless we make the bond permanent."
The word 'permanent' hung in the air like a death sentence.
"I won't force you into that," I said coldly. "I'd rather die than trap someone the way my uncle trapped me."
"But if you die, it's my fault!" Tears filled her eyes. "I'm the one who cast the spell. I'm the one who bound you here. I can't just let you—"
"Stop." I held up a hand. "This isn't your problem to solve. You were trying to survive. I respect that." I turned away from her tears. They made me uncomfortable. "We have thirty days. I'll use that time to find another solution."
"What if there isn't one?"
"Then I die, and you'll finally be free of the realm's most inconvenient houseguest."
She made a sound that was half sob, half laugh. "You're terrible at making jokes."
"I wasn't joking."
Silence fell between us. In the distance, I could hear night birds calling and the whisper of wind through the Veil forest. My shoulder still hurt where that Court mage's spell had hit me.
"You should let me look at your shoulder," Elara said quietly. "That spell—it looked like corruption magic. If it's not cleaned properly—"
"I can handle it."
"Please." She stepped closer. "You just fought three Court mages to protect me. The least I can do is make sure you don't die of an infected wound."
I wanted to refuse. But she was right—corruption magic was dangerous if left untreated, and my supplies were still back in the Veil where I'd been ambushed by her spell.
"Fine," I growled. "But make it quick."
She led me into the cottage. It was small and shabby, but clean. Books were stacked everywhere—magical theory, herbology, even some advanced texts on spell crafting that surprised me. This woman wasn't just desperate. She was smart.
"Sit," Elara ordered, pointing at a chair by the fireplace.
I sat, feeling strange taking orders from someone who'd been terrified of me an hour ago.
She gathered supplies—water, clean cloth, herbs I recognized as having healing properties. Her hands were steady now, focused on a task.
"This will hurt," she warned.
"I've survived worse."
She pulled my robe aside to expose my shoulder. I heard her sharp intake of breath when she saw the wound. The corruption magic had left black veins spreading from the impact point.
"It's bad," she whispered.
"I know."
"Why didn't you say something? This could kill you even faster than the curse—"
"Because there were three Court mages trying to murder us, and my wounded shoulder seemed less important!" I snapped.
She flinched, and I immediately felt like a monster.
"Sorry," I muttered. "I'm not... good at this."
"At what?"
"Letting people help me."
Her expression softened. "Well, get used to it. We're stuck together for thirty days, remember?"
She pressed a cloth soaked in something sharp-smelling against the wound. Pain shot through my shoulder, but I didn't move.
"You're brave," Elara said softly. "Stupid, but brave. You didn't have to protect me from those Court mages. You could have let them take me and claimed you were just investigating the wild magic yourself."
"I could have."
"So why didn't you?"
Good question. Why hadn't I? It would have been the smart move. The safe move.
"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe I'm tired of doing the smart thing."
She worked in silence for a moment, cleaning the wound with surprising skill. "Where did you learn healing magic?" I asked.
"I didn't. I just... know things. Plants that help with pain. Herbs that fight infection." She smiled sadly. "My parents taught me before they died. They said magic wasn't just about power. It was about knowledge too."
"Your parents were magical researchers?"
"The best in the kingdom. They spent their lives studying how magic works, trying to make it safer and more accessible for everyone." Her hands trembled slightly. "Then they died in their laboratory. 'Magical accident,' everyone said. But my sister got everything they owned within a week. Seemed awfully convenient."
I heard the pain beneath her words. The suspicion she couldn't prove.
"You think your sister killed them."
Elara's hands stilled. "I think Seraphina wanted what they had more than she wanted them alive. And I think she's the reason my magic failed at the ceremony too. But I can't prove any of it."
"Wild magic can reveal truth," I said slowly. "If you learned to control it, you could expose her."
"If I learned to control it, the Courts would execute me first." She resumed cleaning my wound. "Either way, I'm dead."
"Not while I'm here."
The words came out before I could stop them. Elara looked at me with wide eyes.
"You'd really protect me? Even after I trapped you here?"
"You didn't trap me on purpose. And those Court mages tonight—they would have killed you just for existing." Anger burned in my chest. "The High Courts are supposed to protect people, not hunt them like animals. You deserve better."
"So do you," she said quietly. "You didn't deserve to be cursed by your own uncle."
We looked at each other in the firelight, two people who'd been betrayed by the people who should have loved them most.
"There," Elara said finally, tying off the bandage. "That should help. But you need to rest. The spare room—"
A massive boom shook the cottage.
We both jumped to our feet as another explosion rattled the windows. Through the glass, I saw fire blooming in the distance—coming from the direction of the Veil.
"What is that?" Elara gasped.
I reached out with my magic, sensing the disturbance. What I felt made my blood run cold.
"Battle magic. Multiple Court mages, maybe a dozen." I grabbed Elara's arm. "They're burning the Veil forest. Creating a perimeter."
"Why would they—"
"To trap us." I pulled her toward the door. "The woman from earlier—she must have called for reinforcements. They're surrounding the property."
"But you said the bond keeps you here. You can't fight if you can't leave the cottage grounds—"
"I know." My mind raced through options, all of them bad. "Which means they can siege us. Cut off supplies. Wait us out."
"Or burn us alive," Elara whispered, watching the fires grow closer.
Another boom. This one sounded like it came from just outside the property line.
A man's voice rang out through the night, magically amplified to carry across the distance. A voice I knew all too well.
"Cassian Valorent. This is High Chancellor Malachai Valorent speaking. You have one hour to surrender yourself and the wild magic user. Refuse, and we will execute you both for treason against the High Courts. You have my word that this will be your only warning."
My uncle. He'd come himself.
Elara looked at me with terror in her eyes. "What do we do?"
I stared out at the burning forest, at the magical barriers I could feel forming around us, at the trap closing from all sides.
We were outnumbered. Outmatched. Trapped on a tiny piece of land with nowhere to run.
I smiled.
"We do what they don't expect," I said. "We fight back."