THIRTY-SEVEN #2
“He told me about the mate bond, you know.” She looks into the distant dark. “He knew since the night you broke the faerie circle. He felt it when he saw you in the forest, holding hands with the ginger haired boy.”
My heart beats faster than a stampede of galloping hooves.
He told her. Why? Who else did he tell? I’m so embarrassed I could die.
Aed told me a faerie’s mate is almost like a human’s soulmate but a thousand times stronger.
Once accepted, you share a single life force.
If one would die, the other would be soon to follow.
In my situation, I’d be gifted with the lifespan of a faerie, but do I want that?
It’s so much bigger than being someone’s wife; I’d be his entire life. No, no I’m not ready.
“You don’t have to accept it,” she adds, studying my face and the apprehension marring my features.
I take a deep breath, willing my expression into one of tranquility, if that is even possible.
“But please, Bryn, wait until you’re sure, and until we’re safely away from here.
We don’t all get mates, and it’s said that the rejection of a bond is permanent and can be crippling at best. A bond severed can never be rebuilt. ”
“Have you…” Completing my sentence feels too intrusive, so I stop my question short. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place.” I offer her my rolled cigarette. She accepts it and takes a long drag. I watch the ember glow, chasing towards her lips before she hands it back to me.
A long silence passes between us as she releases her breath, the smoke billowing against the dark sky.
“Sloan,” she says his name softly, as if the care she takes in speaking it can preserve something lost and sacred.
“He was my mate, but we were young, and I was scared.” I stare at her, recognizing their connection for the first time.
She laughs, twisting her ring around her index finger.
“We’re friends now, even though it was hard at first. There’s no need to pity me. Perhaps it’s better this way.”
Declan walks past a window on the inside of the castle, like he said he would. His letter scratches against my skin, hidden in the seam of my underwear. My heart races. I haven’t seen Laoise since the night of my family’s ball. Despite the jimsonweed and nettle, a tightness returns to my chest.
“Eadan, I’m sorry. I need to find my sister.” I feel terrible for leaving her, but this is my opportunity, and I’m not sure how long I have.
“Go,” she tells me. “I’ll wait for you inside.” She gives me a look as serious as the one Odhran gave her. “Don’t be long.” Meaning, be back before they drink their last cup of wine.
My hands tremble as I touch Eadan’s arm in gratitude, giving her the last bit of jimsonweed and nettle. And so the time has come, and our plan commences.
“You do not have much time!” Aed says. His concern echoes in the knot building in my stomach.
The mark of our bargain burns like fire under my skin.
I need to retrieve the mirror to free him, collect Laoise, and get her to Brogan’s carriage so I can free her before he drinks his wine and voids our bargain, then return to the hall so that I can find Eadan and go.
I push through the side door into a small foyer and listen for Laoise’s voice, but hear Declan’s instead.
“There’s a reason you’ve been brought here.
” I hear Declan say as I rush toward the open door to my right, entering a parlour with scattered velvet chairs of emerald green around golden tables.
It’s a tearoom with large windows overlooking the garden, framed with wallpaper in a decorative golden swirl.
Only the two of them are inside. They turn to the door as if caught in a secret. “Brynney!” Laoise calls out, rushing toward me. Her arms wrap around my neck, holding me close. It’s so good to hold her, to know she’s safe. Her hair is pinned up as always, and she wears an exquisite gown of gold.
Declan smiles at me, and I smile back over Laoise’s shoulder. I want to thank him for looking after her, for keeping her safe.
“Oh, Brynney, I’m so glad you made it! Finally! Don’t worry, you’re safe here.” She pulls back, holding me at arm’s length, beaming at me. “Look what they made you wear! The disrespect!” My happiness fades into something different. My stomach sinks, and my smile wavers.
“I happen to…”
“I will see that our room is ready.” She claps her hands, exiting the room through a secret door in the wall. Our room? Where is her bag? Our provisions? All the things Declan promised to have ready? There was no talk of a room!
“Here, you can take my coat.” Declan shrugs out of his dark green jacket.
“No, I don’t need…” He hands it to me before I finish my sentence. Frustration burns through my veins as I hang it over the backrest of a chair. It’s as though they don’t hear me speaking, as though my opinion doesn’t matter. “I don’t need it.”
“Your compulsion will end soon.” In the silence after his statement, my heart climbs to a crescendo.
“This wasn’t the plan, Declan!”