Page 101 of Hellbound

Beside him, a distinctive pair of green eyes sharpened on hers—a predator finally recognizing the threat there all along. His lips parted slightly before pressing flat, and he lifted his chin.

She smiled at him—all teeth.

The room erupted as she raised Tivan’s slack-jawed head up to the rafters.

A new Sevrant was born.

27

Her mind was slow, wading through a syrupy, pleasant haze as she woke. Her consciousness came back together in fragments, like pieces of driftwood catching in a swirling inlet, gathering until she could form a coherent thought.

Then, the sharp slice of pain as Ksenia shifted in the hospital cot and gauze and bandages pulled tighter. The stitching in her shoulder reminded her of the dagger that Tivan had pierced her with.

A slow smile crawled over her face as she relished the cold, sharp air in her lungs, the ache in her bones, and even the painful throb radiating from her wound: she had won the trials.

She pried her eyelids open. An empty wooden chair was close to her right bedside.

“You’re alive.” A quiet voice caught her attention to her left.

Danika sat on a neighboring cot, her brow creased with worry and hands folded tightly in her lap as if restraining from reaching out to her.

“You’re alive,” she repeated. “I didn’t know what had happened, and the nurses sedated you to prevent further injury.” Danika raked her hands through her loose flaxen hair, leaving them atop her head.

Ksenia felt a pang of guilt. Danika’s eyes were blotchy from crying and lack of sleep.

“I’m sorry I worried you.” Her throat felt like she had swallowed glass, but she pressed through the pain and whispered, “I couldn’t tell you—I knew you would try to stop me. But I won.”

“Obviously, I would have tried to stop you.” Danika laughed, swiping tears from her eyes. “You’re impossible. You’ve always been impossible.”

“And you’ve always been awake when I got back.”

Every time she’d come home late from a Bound Eye mission, from a night in the Vein, or from something she shouldn’t have been doing, Danika would always be there.

Sitting up with a candle burning low, pretending to read, scratching away in her diary, waiting.

She masked her worry with lectures and barbs, but Ksenia knew. Danika just needed to see her walk back through the door.

Against her better judgment, Ksenia reached out weakly from the covers. Danika’s hand darted forward to grasp hers without hesitation.

“I would’ve sat here till you woke, but that would’ve been suspicious. And…” Danika’s chin tilted toward the empty chair. “The captain was here every chance I got.”

Ksenia’s cheeks pinked.

Her elder sister’s eyes narrowed slightly, brows rising a fraction as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The corner of her mouth twitched, a tiny pull that had preceded countless sisterly interrogations.

“Is there something going on that I should know about?”

“No,” Ksenia rasped, pulling her hand away hastily as a flush spread down her neck. “I feel like death, so this conversation is over.”

“Understandable.” Danika’s brow lowered with visible effort. “But as soon as you’re well, you’re telling me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Ksenia kept her voice even, and despite the embarrassment branding itself deep in her stomach, Ksenia welcomed this rare moment of normalcy between them. “But I’ll be able to go to the forge now that I’m Sevrant.”

Ksenia’s return to Beranek Manor was triumphant. Varka had thrown a massive but private banquet in her honor the night she returned, dressing the dining table with all manner of food from Brannfels. Over the green tablecloth, Varka hoisted her goblet into the air.

“To Senka, who bested the odds and is the second woman ever to become Sevrant.”

That begged the question.