Chapter 41 · The Echo of the Bond

The blood on my hands was his.

Valerius was on his knees. One arm braced against the boards. The wound in his shoulder kept opening and closing,like a mouth trying to scream. Wolf-healing. It was slow. Ugly. And failing.

"Don't," he gasped. His voice was shredded. "Get behind the—"

"Not happening." I shoved the bedsheet harder into the gash. It turned crimson in a heartbeat. "You threw yourself in front of a blade for me. Theleast I can do is keep your blood inside you."

Then it happened.

Something moved under my ribs. Low. A flutter, like a trapped moth hitting glass.

My face betrayed me. I couldn't stop the gasp.

Valerius looked up. Of course he did. His eyes had that pale, iron sheen—the wolf half-out of him—and they dropped from my face to my stomach. They didn't move.

"Seraphina?"

"Hold this," I snapped, pressing the cloth into his goodhand. "Press. Hard."

He didn't press. He caught my wrist. His fingers circledit, and that’s when it hit me.

The echo.

The bond was dead. He’d rippedit out himself at the Obsidian Tribunal, in front of every wolf in Iron-Crag.