Anything That Binds (Anything That Binds #1)

Chapter 1 Aerin

AERIN

Aerin Tolvare throws her entire bodyweight into a punch aimed at her brother’s throat. When it lands one of two things will happen: either Bruin will come at her twice as hard, or he will yield.

Her fist hits the target with crafted precision. Bruin pays the price of being distracted, clutching at his throat, coughing.

“Fuck,” he wheezes, holding a hand up at her advance. “I yield.” He drops to the mats below them, laying on his back, chest heaving.

The early morning sun drifts lazily through the high windows of the gym, casting the large space in a warm glow. Soft music and Bruin’s breathing are all Aerin hears. Sweat coats her skin, hair clinging to the nape of her neck. She wipes it away with a towel before starting in on Bruin.

“You’re sloppy today.”

Bruin Tolvare glares up at her from his spot on the mat, though there is no true hatred in his gaze.

Looking at Bruin is a bit like looking into a funhouse mirror.

Like seeing herself, only slightly distorted.

Both Tolvare siblings have classic Fae markers: ears that come to points, long canine teeth, and towering height.

They share high cheekbones, lithe noses, and sharp jaw lines.

They both bear tanned skin, thanks to the ever-present Southern sun, and have long warm blonde hair.

Though, the true marker of their heritage is their eyes: golden in color, lined with dark lashes.

There is no mistaking them as Tolvares.

“Maybe you’re just better than me,” Bruin quips, sitting up and leaning back on his hands. Aerin cocks her chin and raises her eyebrows at him.

“We both know you beat me every time when your head’s in it.”

Bruin’s been distracted all week, and worse, he’s been evasive whenever Aerin brings it up. She knows something is worrying him, and yet he continues to keep her in the dark. Troubling, when Bruin is the only Tolvare Aerin can stand.

More than that though, he’s her best friend. Her confidant. Her safe place. The only thing that stands between Aerin and their father: the King of their City-State, Valtara.

“So? Where has your head been?” Aerin probes, nudging Bruin’s ankle with her foot.

Pulling himself to his feet and ignoring Aerin’s question he says, “Father wants to meet with you this morning.”

That’s about the last thing Aerin wants to hear. She snatches her small bag off the floor at the edge of the mats more forcefully than necessary.

“Tell him I’m busy,” Aerin retorts, digging around for her phone, if only for something to do. Despite the early hour, she has plenty of notifications, all of which she ignores. Instead, she opens her music app, scrolling to find something to listen to on her way home.

“This is serious, Rin,” Bruin hedges, adjusting his own bag and pushing open the gym doors as they walk out.

“And I’m seriously busy. I have midterms.” Aerin shrugs, pulling out her headphones.

Aerin loves Bruin, she does. He is all the best parts of her.

All the strong parts without any of her recklessness or anger.

Instead, Bruin is level-headed, kind—the perfect True Heir to Valtara, and one day he will lead.

Their eldest sister, Cisera, will be his closest advisor. And Aerin? She will be long gone.

She never wanted to be a Tolvare anyways.

“Rin, come on,” Bruin hedges, grabbing her arm. His golden eyes search hers. Her brother looks tired, deep bags under his normally well-rested eyes. His hair, tied in a bun at the back of his head, needs to be washed, and his stubble is about two days too old. “Just go see him, for me.”

Usually, this would work on her. For Bruin, she’d do almost anything.

Today she asks, “Why were you distracted during sparring?”

Bruin, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t give Aerin any hint of what, exactly, has been keeping him up at night.

“I’m just tired,” he lies.

Shrugging his hand off, Aerin shoves her headphones in her ears.

“If you’re just tired, then I’m just busy.” Aerin turns away from him, starting off in a jog towards her apartment. She distantly hears him call after her, but she doesn’t turn back.

Aerin sticks to the edge of the road as Shifters on their early morning commutes take up the center, sprinting in their animal forms. Lions, Fawns, and Rabbits all barrel by at dizzying speeds they make look graceful.

The streets of Valtara wind in lazy curves, mimicking the rocky cliffside to the east and the slow-moving river that snakes through the city.

Sidewalks on either side of the road are pristine, set aside for a more leisurely pace.

Various Fae and Mer walk with coffees in hand.

Pots of multi-colored flowers in full bloom hang from every streetlamp, opening their faces to the spring morning.

They make Valtara, an already idyllic place, even more picturesque.

Storefronts pass Aerin by, their red brick and white accents blurring as her feet pound against the pavement.

Aerin comes to the bubbling water feature that demarcates the epicenter of Valtara, where nightlife, restaurants, and boutiques flourish.

The white marble fountain gleams, depicting each type of Fae.

On one side are those born of the South, the fire-Fae of Valtara.

On the other, those born of the North, the ice-Fae of Zeneith.

And at the back, those born of the West, the earth-Fae of Keylar.

Similar fountains adorn other parts of the City-State. One depicts various Shifters: Big Cats, Vipers, and Ursine, their cold marble mouths open in violent roars. Another, near the beach, portrays two Mer in vicious battle, spears locked together, tails cast out behind them.

Aerin shouldn’t find herself running towards that fountain near the beach, but she does anyway.

Her lungs burn as she increases her pace, sunlight prickling against her bare arms, music pounding in her ears.

The jog turns into an all-out sprint as she approaches the fountain, just beyond it, the top of a long wooden staircase that leads down to the beach.

Aerin stumbles towards the stairs as she slows, hands hitting an invisible barrier when she reaches them, forcing her to an abrupt halt.

The base of the stairs is surrounded by golden sand, and beyond that, turquoise water as far as Aerin can see.

It meets the blue sky in the distance, not a single cloud marring its expanse.

Heaving in air, Aerin’s heart pounds against her ribcage as her fist thumps, once, then twice, against the magic that keeps her trapped inside of Valtara. She doesn’t always check if it’s still here, but some days something wild takes hold of her. Something desperate.

At the far end of the beach, a rocky outcropping sits just before the sheer cliff face that rises from the sea. The cliff terminates the small stretch of beach, extending north for miles. The same water that gently laps against the sand churns violently against the dark jagged rocks.

Mouth suddenly dry and eyes prickling, despair rises within Aerin like the tide. Some days she wishes the emotion would swallow her. Unfortunately, Aerin has little tendency for wallowing; instead, she stews. Like a pot set over a low flame, taking its time to heat.

The shrill sound of Aerin’s phone pulls her out of her head. She fumbles to get it out of her bag.

Her best friend, Quinn, speaks before Aerin can greet her. “Please tell me you also have an undeniable craving for greasy breakfast food?”