Chapter 5: Blood Calls to Blood

Cael's hand crushes mine because he sees it too. He does not breathe for three heartbeats. Then his whole body shakes because the vision is still in front of us.

The picture moves because the tree is not done. We are in a small hut in the south where the fire is low and my mother is sitting on a dirt floor, both babies still held against her chest.

She kisses the blue one's head, and tears run down her face before she hands him to a wolf guard she trusts because she knows she cannot keep both. She whispers, “Take him back and say he lived,” because she needs the king to believe only one son survived.

She keeps the grey one because he is smaller and he is quiet. She tells herself, "I will hide this one as human," because she thinks the king will never look south. She names him Aiden after the human man who helps her because she needs a lie.

The vision stops, and the tunnel goes dark again. My knees give out because my legs will not hold me. Cael catches me because his arm is around my waist. My chest hurts because I cannot breathe right.

We are not half brothers. We are twins. We have the same mother and the same father. She split us apart because the King would have killed us both. She lied to me my whole life because she thought the lie would keep me safe.

Cael is shaking, every muscle in his body locked tight. “She left me,” he says, his voice broken because he is not a king right now, just a boy who was left in a cold room. Gold flickers in his black eyes because his wolf is hurt.

I want to be mad at her, but I am not. I want to hate him, but I cannot. The bond in my chest is not a mate bond because the Goddess did not make it. It is a twin bond because we were born together, and the tree woke it up when he tasted my blood. That is why it feels like breathing. It has always been there, even before we knew what it was.

Cael presses his forehead to mine because the tunnel is too small to move. His breath is hot on my face because he is close. The blood on our hands is sticky between us because we are still holding on.

The voice comes back and says, “A twin bond cannot break,” and the words land inside my head, not my ears. It says, “It can only be transferred,” because that is the old law, and “One heart must carry it alone,” because two hearts will burn out by the full moon.

I understand what it means because the tree is showing me. If we stay linked, we both die in three nights. If one of us takes the whole bond into his chest, the other lives, and Maya lives too because the tree will be fed by one pure sacrifice.

Cael lets go of my hand and steps back because his mind is already made up. “I am King,” he says, and that is all the reason he needs. He presses his bleeding palm to the wall of roots and offers himself to the tree because he thinks one word settles everything.

The wall drinks his blood, and the white veins turn red as the tunnel gets hotter because the tree is waking. I grab his wrist and pull his hand off the wall because I am mad and I will not let him do this alone.

I say, "You do not get to leave me again," because he was left once and I was left once. I am tired of being split. My voice cracks because I am scared, but I mean it. The bond flares between us because we are touching.

Through the roots I catch a faint sound, and it is Maya gasping because the vine is tightening again. Her heartbeat is slow because the tree is pulling her life out while we are in here and my mother is crying because she cannot stop it.

The tree shows us the outside on the wall, and Maya is hanging limp with the vine around her waist now. Dawn is coming because light is bleeding through the ice ceiling of the hall. We have minutes, not hours.

The voice says, “Choose,” because it is done waiting, and a part of the wall grows out and forms a knife made of black root that floats between us like an offering. It says, “The one who takes the bond must cut the tie,” because blood must seal it.

Cael reaches for the knife because his hand is fast. I reach too because I am faster. I grab it first because I will not watch him die. The handle is cold, and it pulses because it is alive.

Cael looks at me, and his eyes are gold again because his wolf is back down. He is breathing hard, and his forehead is against mine again because there is no space. He says, "Give it to me," because he is begging now.

I lift the knife because my hand is shaking. I know if I cut my palm deeper and press it to the heart of the tree, the bond will pour into me. I will burn out by the full moon, and Cael will live, and Maya will live. I know my mother will lose another son.

I press the tip of the root knife to my chest right over my heart because that is where the bond sits, and Cael grabs my wrist and stops me because his grip is iron. “No,” he says, and he means it.

The knife cuts his palm too because we are both holding it, and our blood runs down the blade together, and the tree roars inside our heads because it has never tasted twin blood mixed willingly. The tunnel shakes and white sap pours down the walls because the tree is flooding.

The voice is loud now because it is excited and it says, “A third way,” because we did not choose. The wall in front of us splits open and light pours in, gold like sunrise and nothing like the hall we left.

Through the opening I see a stone altar where Maya is lying, and she is not breathing. My mother is kneeling beside her and screaming. Behind the altar stands a man in a black crown, and he is not old because the tree does not age what it keeps. It is the old King smiling because we walked into his trap, and his crown is made of the same black roots as the walls.