Page 130 of Unveiled

“That.” Connor pointed down.

Adrian looked down to see his hands working together, fingers forming a ball incessantly. He hadn’t realised he was doing it. “Oh. I’m not sure. Maybe since the ridge. Since the whatever you want to call it.”

“The Gift,” Connor said flatly, like the word tasted foul.

Adrian attempted a shrug. “It closed the fracture.”

“It’s breaking you.”

Adrian reached for his water. The glass slipped, shattered against the flagstones.

Connor was on his feet the moment the sound hit.

“Enough,” he said, crouching in front of Adrian and catching his wrists. “Look at me.”

Adrian did and immediately regretted it. There was no anger in Connor’s face. No judgment. Just raw fear barely contained.

“I can handle it,” Adrian said. “I’m strong enough.”

Connor’s voice dropped, rough around the edges. “Adrian. Strength isn’t silence.”

By dusk the mark’s heat had turned vicious. Not feverish, focused. It burned like it had weight, like it was pressing outward from under his skin.

Adrian’s shadow lagged and jerked when he moved, limbs folding at awkward angles.

Connor half carried him into the study.

“Sit.”

Adrian did, mostly because his knees no longer cooperated. Connor knelt in front of him, wrapping large hands around Adrian’s shaking ones.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

“Everywhere.”

Connor swore softly. “Adrian.”

“The Gift,” Adrian said. “It’s spreading.”

Connor surged upright. “I’m getting Xiathen.”

“No.” Adrian grabbed his sleeve. “It’ll pass.”

Connor stared at him for a long moment. “You’re shaking.”

“I know,” Adrian said. “Just stay.”

Connor didn’t hesitate. He sat down, closer this time.

Adrian leaned forward, resting his weight against Connor. “Something’s not right.”

“Tell me.”

“I think the Gift wants to use me again.”

Connor stilled. “Use you how?”

“The cracks are calling. Everywhere. Like the valley is begging to be fixed.”