It’s taken me all this time to realize that you did.”
Sev frowned. “Did what? I didn’t—”
“Don’t you see? My methods would have only made Jotham and Ott more determined to do whatever they wanted. They’d have sent you away, put someone else as lookout, and then they would have been there when that animage girl turned up, not you. Who knows what might’ve happened.”
“Luck,” Sev said with a half-hearted shrug, unwilling to allow himself to enjoy—or truly trust—Kade’s praise. “Teyke having fun at our expense.”
Kade shook his head. “Fate. Anyanke weaving our threads together.”
A thrill shot through Sev at Kade’s words. He had felt it too. Some indiscernible current always putting them in each other’s paths. Even now, there was a tug deep in Sev’s abdomen, drawing him to Kade.
“I accused you of saving your own neck that day. Maybe you were, in some way, but you saved hers, too—when you didn’t have to. If she’d been found, if they knew you’d tipped her off . . . things would have gone bad for you. Very bad. And the day you tried to run, you didn’t come back for yourself. . . . You came back for me. Just because you do things differently than I’d do them doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”
“So . . . is this a roundabout way of you saying you’re sorry?” Sev asked, mouth quirking up in the corner.
Kade chuckled, the tension lightening between them somewhat. “It’s my way of saying yes.”
“Yes?” Sev asked, confused.
“To your question before, by the fire. Maybe I hated you in the beginning, but that has changed.” Warmth spread from Sev’s chest all the way to his fingertips. “I couldn’t see—didn’t want to see—what Ilithya saw in you. I was jealous, I suppose, of the way you two connected with each other. I’ve spent years of my life trying to be a worthy successor to Ilithya Shadowheart, but that’s not my role to fill anymore. It’s yours.”
Sev swallowed. He’d only just come around to the idea that he belonged with Trix and Kade and the rest of the animages, but being her successor?
“That’s—I’m not—”
“Not yet,” Kade conceded, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “But you’ll get there. And I’ll help.”
Sev thought back to the moment Trix first assigned him to pack animal duty. He and Kade hadn’t been getting along, and Sev had thought she was being spiteful, putting them together—or that she wanted him to see all he had in common with the other bondservants. Now he couldn’t help but wonder if this hadn’t been her plan all along. She needed them both—not just now, but later, for the future. If they were going to save the Phoenix Riders, it would require more than just stopping this one attack. It would mean stopping every attack and rebuilding Avalkyra Ashfire’s rebellion from the ground up.
“We’re mirror images of each other—have you noticed?” Kade asked, tilting his head as he studied Sev. “Same age, same size—more or less,” he added, his lips quirking into a half grin. They might be the same height, but Kade definitely outweighed and outmuscled him. “And here we are, in the exact same place, but opposite sides of the looking glass. Soldier and bondservant.”
“We’re not on opposite sides,” Sev protested. “Not anymore.” He needed Kade to see that. He’d thought all the same things about them, their differences and their strange similarities, but Sev wanted to bridge the gap.
Kade nodded, though his face had turned grim again. “I just . . . Well, I don’t want to see you throw your life away trying to prove something to me—to anyone. You . . .” His mouth twisted, as if he was searching for words. “You already proved yourself to me.”
“I did?” Sev asked, fighting down the wild hope that was building up inside him. “How?”
Kade shrugged, a determinedly offhand gesture. “First you came back. Then you stayed.”
Sev’s throat was thick, and he needed a moment to collect himself. “Even if I die, I’m not throwing my life away,” Sev said, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. “I just want . . .”
His arm dropped, and it felt oddly heavy by his side. Sev went to raise it, to reach for something . . . but he found he lost his courage partway, and it hovered in the air between them.
“I just want to rest easy when I die—whether that’s today, tomorrow, or in a hundred years—knowing that I did the right