11 #2
“You took a bite out of one of those monsters? Please tell me it was in self-defense.”
“I was hungry. Needed to replenish my strength. And that wolf was dead anyway,” he says defensively. “It was just a nibble, I swear.”
“Just a nibble, huh?”
Blair eyes me like I’ve lost it—until she realizes we’re speaking mind to mind.
She crosses her arms, eyes glittering with fury. “I tried to give you a better life too. But you, ignorant little brat, were too stubborn to even listen to Connus. We were safe in Palisandre. You don’t just throw away a chance like that.”
“Well, I did. And I’d do it again. I’m not getting sold to the next bidder! I want to be free. When will people finally get that into their heads?”
“And when will you get this into yours: You’ll never be free, Melody.
Not with those gifts in your veins. You can lie to yourself, keep running—but the sooner you understand and accept that, the better.
And honestly? I don’t see the drama. If I had your gifts, I’d be embracing the life Lorvil—the great asshole of Palisandre—offered me.
You don’t know what you’ve been handed. The worst thing that might happen to you is breaking a damn manicured nail while being pampered and spoon-fed. ”
I cross my arms, mimicking her, our stares locked across the dark space. “This is where we differ. I won’t sit on a king’s lap, pampered like a pet, and bark when he commands. It’s a curse. I want to be my own person. You have no idea what it feels like—never being free your whole life.”
“You think my childhood was fun and games? I got whipped with an iron-tipped lash when I talked back—or was late—or when my aunt didn’t like my makeup.
Starved until I was little more than a feral beast. So, princess—go grow up.
Start wrapping your damn head around the fact that you’re fae, with a shard of Caryan’s gods-cursed magic in you. Magic people would kill for.”
“Magic that made me kill people!” I scream, tears spilling and running down my cheeks, leaving burning trails. “People died because of me, Blair!”
She just stares, expression flat, making me feel like a toddler mid-tantrum. “Power is the fae’s way. Grasp it—for the old gods’ sake. And count yourself lucky to have it.”
“You seriously think I should be grateful that Caryan fused his magic with mine? That I’m a killing machine now—deep-frying people to death?”
Her bleached eyebrows rise. “Hells, yeah. You might be the only fae alive crying about being one of the most powerful out there. Or at least you could be—once you learn to control it.”
I stare at her, horrified. How could she not see what happened at the manor? How could she be this cruel? “I thought Connus was your friend,” I say quietly, no longer sure I ever understood anything about her.
She shrugs. “Yeah, well—friends come and go. He’s gone now, obviously. Let’s just be glad we’re not. Now let’s move the fuck on.”
“You know what, Blair? Fuck off.”
“Original. I swear I just heard that same phrase.”
I bristle. My hands curl into fists as I force myself to walk away—only to be slammed back down a second later. She’s so strong, it takes nothing to throw me. My knees hit pavement, and this damn nightgown, or whatever it is, tears again until it’s hanging on me in scraps.
“Where are you going, little cockroach?”
“Away,” I growl, tears stinging my eyes.
“Oh no. We’re sticking together.” Her amber eyes pin me in place.
“Oh hells no, we’re not.”
“You heard my mothers. They want us to.”
Is she serious? “Great. Glad you finally found a scrap of conscience, Blair. But I’m done. I won’t trust you again. Good luck.”
“You’ll be dead in a second.”
“Then so be it,” I snap over my shoulder.
“You can’t be serious, you stupid little half-human.”
I ignore her. Aris growls as she moves behind me.
In a blink, she stands in front of me again. “You,” she starts, jabbing a clawed finger dangerously close, “you don’t get to walk away. Not after what I gave up. I’m a traitor now. I lost my magic. Caryan threw me into his fucking prison—for you!”
I know there’s some truth in her words. But I’m done with her twisted logic.
“No. You did that for yourself. Because I saved you first, and you felt indebted. You betrayed Caryan for your own reasons—because of your mothers, your own past. You expected me to trust a man who was screwing you while I was half-dead in the next room. So don’t dump this all on me.
You made those choices. Take responsibility for once. Own your bullshit!”
She looks like she’s about to punch me. I’m shaking, breath ragged from yelling. My voice is raw.
But then she just lifts a brow, studying her nails. “Nice little speech. Been practicing that one for a while, huh?”
“Fuck off.” I slam my shoulder into her as I pass, probably hurting myself more than her in the process.
She grabs my wrist and yanks me close. Too close.
“Tantrum’s over, crybaby. You don’t know what’s coming.
This”—she gestures to the dead—“this was the welcoming committee. Lyrian’s henchmen—magically corrupted wolf shifters.
They tracked me after the pub. They’ll sense us here.
More are coming. You can’t outrun this alone.
So here’s the deal: We’re allies. Like it or not. ”
The last of my anger drains, leaving exhaustion in its place. I just want to collapse. Hide. Sleep. Cry. I killed people in the Black Forest. Barely survived. Now this.
“Why?” I whisper.
She seems surprised by the sudden softness of my voice.
“My mothers…” Her face twists and for a second her aura cracks and there’s only pain.
And when I look at her, tears burn in her eyes.
“They’re probably dead now. But they wanted me to save you.
And I will. Whatever it costs. I owe them this—and I vow to protect you until the end. ”
Before I can respond, I feel magic stir between us.
Thin, but present, and I feel something hot burning itself into the skin on my wrist. When I look down, I find the tattoo of a wyvern with two horns and three feathered tails there.
Blair stares at her own wrist, amber eyes wide with something like horror when the twin to my marking shimmers there.
“She just forged a guardian bond,” Aris murmurs, full of awe—and resentment.
“What?”
“It’s rare. Only works if the vow is true—and the stars approve. Your souls are now connected. They are going to crave each other’s presence henceforth.”
“What? I thought magic didn’t work in the human world?” What the hells does that even mean?
“It doesn’t. But the stars granted this.”
“What the fuck?” Blair hisses, glaring at her tattoo like it betrayed her before she shoves me hard. Aris growls a warning but she ignores him, her amber eyes blazing.
“Okay, definitely not happy about it,” I mutter mentally.
“What the fuck did you do to me? A guardian bond?! The stars must be kidding me.”
“ I didn’t ask for this. You made the vow.”
“We’re bound now.” She shoves me again so hard I hit the ground.
Aris snarls, stepping between us. “That’s her problem. Throwing vows around like corn for chicken. Especially at her age. Time she grew up.”
“You have history with her,” I say to Aris, a little surprised.
He scoffs. “Yes. But there are things I cannot say. Caryan bound me with an oath.”
Blair throws her hands up dramatically while she starts pacing up and down as if this was the end of the world.
“What does it mean?” I ask, dread coiling in my gut. Great, one more creature bound to me who absolutely resents me. Yay. Best feeling in the world.
But I already feel the vow pulling me to her. Wanting to comfort her. Touch her. It’s sickening in its intensity.
“Exactly that,” Aris says. “You won’t be able to stay apart long. You’ll crave each other’s closeness.”
My mouth goes dry and slight horror sinks in.
“It’s rare. Fae beg for these bonds for their children. The stars usually refuse. But they granted this.”
The stars? Seriously?
“I told you, you’d be better off without me,” I murmur. “I’m dangerous.”
Blair finally stops pacing, and suddenly her shoulders sag and her eyes soften slightly as she looks at me.
“Maybe. But the vow’s done. We’re stuck with each other until one of us bites the dust.” She stalks off without another word, aura darker than before.
But I guess it’s a good sign that she didn’t go for my throat.
“I hate to admit it,” Aris says gently, “but the witch is right.”
We follow her. “So, what’s the plan?” I ask Blair while I struggle to keep pace.
She glances over her shoulder. “Survive. Unless you’ve got something better.”
I don’t. So I shut up, lower my head, and follow her into the night.