9. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Isoria
“What does that mean?” I demanded.
“A blood bond is a rare tie formed by the gods themselves, one that snaps into place once the bonded pair meet. I don’t know much about them, only that the blood-bound cannot harm one another, not without repercussions like you just experienced. And they can’t be separated without dying.”
“You’re lying. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Archer settled on the ground beside me, his face pale and his smirk humorless. “I wish. I want answers, not a bond with a death-lover I can’t execute.” He grimaced. “This bond means we’re trapped together. You might as well heal me again so we can return to the castle.”
I shot him a glare. “I’m not going to the castle.
” Archer would demand to know about my people there, and, though he couldn’t hurt me, I could only imagine what else I’d face.
And then there was the matter of his mind-reading father, who would discover who I was the moment he met me, sealing my fate.
I wasn’t sure even risking Archer’s own death would spare me from the king’s famed hatred of the phoenix shifters.
“Well, I have to return home,” he said dryly, “and if you don’t come with me, we’ll both die from your obstinance.”
Panic overtook me, but I forced myself to work through it, drawing on my magic and using the last vestiges of my strength to heal Archer’s leg.
As soon as his skin knit back together, the pain in my own leg eased.
With the phoenix affliction, I would continue to feel pain as the price for using my magic, but at least it wasn’t still the sharp agony of sharing his injury.
I opened my mouth to voice my concerns to Archer, to explain that going back to the castle and his father was madness that would get us both killed if what he’d said about the bond was true, but the words stuck in my mouth.
My vision tunneled, exhaustion and weakness overwhelming me, along with the pain that continued to throb through my abdomen.
I tried to sit up, tried to fight it, but to no avail.
“Swooning over me?” Archer asked, resorting to humor to cope with our unbearable circumstances.
But I couldn’t even form words, let alone think of a retort. My eyelids fluttered, and I fell.