Chapter 2
Lucina
“Tell me again,” Gemma presses, on the edge of laughter as we dump what’s left of our lunch in the trash. “And don’t skip any details.”
I snort, pulling my sunglasses down over my eyes as we step out into the bright sun. “I told you all the details, G.”
“I can’t believe you talked to the Dame like that.” She shakes her head in disbelief, blonde hair bouncing out around her. “And Callan’s coven?” Gemma gawks. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when the Ashvine took you out?”
I force a smile, hoping she can’t sense my discomfort at the mere mention of the poison. Of the night everything changed. “No, I didn’t. I’m just…trying to do the right thing.”
“Ah.” Gemma nods, as if something I’ve said has enlightened her. “A new lease on life. Trying to right your wrongs and be forgiven of your prior sins.” Gemma laughs, nudging me when I don’t do the same. “I’m kidding, Cin. You have no wrongs to right.”
That she knows of.
I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “Do you work today?” I ask, changing the subject.
She shakes her head, tilting her face up to the afternoon sun. “Nope.” There’s a beat of silence before Gemma whips her attention to me, blue eyes piercing. “Do you have training tonight?”
“Um,” I glance over my shoulder to where Callan walks with Pax and Hunter. He keeps his distance, but I know he’s aware of me.
As if sensing my attention, grey eyes flick to mine.
I offer a soft, genuine smile before looking back at Gemma. “I can get out of it.”
I shouldn’t avoid training. If anything, I need it now more than ever. But everything feels so fleeting all of a sudden.
Maybe Gemma wasn’t that far off. Maybe I do have a new lease on life. But it isn’t refreshing; it’s suffocating. It isn’t lungfuls of fresh air. It’s a slow squeeze around my ribcage, and squirming against it makes no difference.
My truth is a time bomb, and I have no idea what number it’s counting down from. I won’t know until it ruptures.
“Great.” Gemma’s grin widens. “You and I are going to the Soul Binding.”
My brows furrow. “How is it that I’ve been in Pirn for months and you’re still mentioning things I’ve never heard of?”
Gemma barks a laugh. “We’re a very intricate species, Lucina. Mortals are so…”
“Normal?”
“Vanilla,” she supplies instead, laughing when I roll my eyes. “Fine. What do mortals do when they want to spend the rest of their lives with someone?” Gemma asks.
“They…marry them?”
“Similar concept then,” she shrugs. “A Soul Binding is what we do when we want to spend forever with another person. We use magic to sync our lifespans. When one dies, so does the other.”
“Chiaros, G,” I curse. “That’s not a similar concept to marriage.”
“Really?” She looks at me like I’m the one who said something crazy.
“Yeah, really. There’s divorce in mortal marriages.”
Gemma snorts. “Yeah, there’s no divorcing a Soul Binding.”
“No shit.”
We take the path to the right of the Banyan, towards the Ajax cabins, and I do my best to ignore the stares as we pass by. Gods only know what Pirn thinks of me now…the girl who was nearly burnt alive, then poisoned. The girl the Captain keeps having to save.
I can’t tell if they feel bad for me or if they fear me. As if my close calls with death are contagious and coming close would make them a target by association. Or maybe to them I’m just a liability. Disturbing the peace. It sure feels like I brought the trouble.
Choosing to ignore whatever the consensus is, I turn to Gemma. “Whose Soul Binding is it?” I ask.
“A young couple in Selene’s coven,” she replies dismissively, as if that detail doesn’t matter. “The ceremony only lasts a few minutes.” Gemma turns her head to wiggle her eyebrows at me. “You and I are going for the afterparty.”
Of course we are.
I probably need it, the distraction. I have a feeling that soon, everything is going to change.
I can delay it—the surfacing of my secret.
I can add seconds onto that ticking clock.
Maybe even minutes or hours. But the reality of the matter is quite simple: It will continue to count down, it will reach zero, and then everyone here…
my friends, my future coven, Callan…they’ll all know who I really am. What I really am.
Rogue.
The nights in Pirn are getting colder, summer drawing to a close. A part of me misses the heat, but maybe that’s because there’s something new beneath my skin that much prefers the chill in the air.
The dark sky pressing in around us. The shadows beneath trees and tucked in corners. That unforgivable part of me aches for it, and it’s getting tiresome, constantly swatting its hand away.
I stand in front of the mirror, admiring the remaining warmth in my skin and dreading the day my summer tan fades. Gemma insisted on dressing me…as she always does…like I’m her own personal doll to play with. I pretend to hate it, but I love the joy it gives her.
My dress is green, dark like the forest, with a lace overlay that weaves across my shoulders. The sleeves are tight on my arms, flaring out at my wrists, and the hem falls just above the top of my favorite gold embroidered boots—which have certainly seen better days.
Gemma’s also gotten a hold of my hair, taming it with some product and weaving in small, random braids throughout.
I look nice, but when I meet my own gaze in the mirror, it almost makes me angry. I wish my outer appearance matched the war raging within me.
Gemma exits the bathroom, clipping on a sparkly gold earring. She picked a baby-blue dress, the silky fabric matching her eyes, and rolled her hair into big, bouncy curls. Stunning as always.
She meets my gaze in the mirror and smiles. “Ready?”
I nod, following her out into the living room to the sweet lilt of Kimber’s voice lighting up the cabin.
Her cinnamon hair is pulled up in a messy updo, iridescent pins poking out in what look like tiny pearls.
Her dress flows behind her, a gorgeous, deep brown that complements her skin, and judging by the way Pax is staring, he agrees.
Kimber, unsurprisingly, doesn’t notice.
“Oh, you guys look amazing!” she preens, green eyes widening on Gemma and me.
Gemma does a twirl, the silky fabric of her dress billowing out around her.
“So do you, Kimmy,” I compliment, wanting so badly to call attention to the way Pax is still drinking her in.
He thinks he’s being slick, I’m assuming, reclined on the couch, his elbow propped on the armrest and his hand blocking any evidence of a smile. His eyes move up and down her body, and there’s no shame on the half of his face that I can see.
I glance up to the kitchen, noting the lack of shame in Callan’s stare, too.
He’s leaned back against the counter, his usual Ajax attire replaced with a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt.
I catch a glimpse of his Sol Mark tattoo peeking out from beneath his sleeve as he lifts a glass to his lips, taking a generous sip of the amber liquid inside it.
His eyes are molten silver, trailing all over the dress Gemma put me in.
“So, neither of you wants to attend a Soul Binding?” I ask, pulling my gaze from Callan to Pax. Kimber seems to have finally caught on to the latter’s staring, eyeing him curiously as he attempts to look anywhere else.
Now that Fenton’s gone, I have no need for a bodyguard. It makes him nervous, though, my going somewhere without him. If I’m honest, not being near Callan makes me a little uneasy, too. We’re trauma-bonded, I guess, in more ways than one. Maybe that’s what it is.
“Nah,” Pax huffs, gesturing to Callan, “he doesn’t believe in them.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe in them.” Callan sets his drink down, crossing the kitchen and coming to a stop beside me.
There’s a warm buzz beneath my skin as he approaches, comparable only to the static his magic produces.
“It just seems…sad. What if your death is untimely? Then the person you love is taken down with you. Wouldn’t you want them to live as long as they can? ”
I feel a tug on a strand of my hair, and when I look down, Callan’s rolling the end of a curl over his knuckle. It’s nice to know the need to be near is mutual.
Gemma huffs a laugh. “Couldn’t agree more.”
“You’re missing the point,” Kimber sighs, folding her arms across her chest. The movement catches Pax’s attention. Obviously. “It’s about not wanting to live without the other,” she explains. “It’s about love, idiots.”
Gemma smiles, and I exhale a heavy breath. “I agree, Kimber.”
I feel the weight of Callan’s attention as soon as the words leave my mouth. Kimber’s face lights up, a knowing glint in her green eyes. “I knew you would.”
“Adorable,” Gemma snorts, reaching for the handle on the front door. “Let’s go.”
Callan grabs my wrist before I can take a full step forward, gently pulling me back to face him. He dips his head to kiss me, and the lingering notes of whiskey make me want a glass of my own.
Callan pulls away, tilting my face up to his. “Please be safe.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s just a wedding.”
“It was just Selumira,” he counters.
I wince, shivering at the resurfacing of the memory. “Touché.”
Before he can second-guess letting me go, I surge up to my toes and kiss him again. Firm and confident.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him, turning towards the door.
Pax is smirking into his drink when I pass, snickering like a boy embarrassed by public displays of affection.
I make sure Kimber is out of earshot, then I knock the toe of his boot with my own. “Hey, next time she gets all dressed up like that, tell her she looks beautiful.”
Pax huffs a laugh.
“Or someone else will.”
His face falls, a blank and somewhat fearful expression overtaking his features. I pat his leg sympathetically, then I meet Gemma and Kimber outside.
We pass through a dimly lit Pirn, the breeze a bit colder now when it blows.
It’s crisp and cool—the beginning of the season's shifting. Kimber prattles on and on about the ceremony we’re about to attend, and Gemma teases that it’s all those romance books she reads melting her into a helpless romantic.