Chapter 9 Goldcaps #2
For one fragile heartbeat, I forget about Rafe, then I hate myself that I did.
Nothing can happen until I find him, but if the goldcaps attack again, I finally admit that I need Thane’s help.
It’s not because the bond is tugging me toward him…
oh, no. I need his sword and his supplies, and to make sure he isn’t hurt.
“You’re bleeding,” I point out stupidly.
Thane glances at his arm like he’s surprised to find the cut there at all. “More gold,” he says. “Does it offend you?”
“It… glows,” I say, because that’s the problem. It’s too beautiful for blood.
Just like Thane’s too beautiful for a halfling who’s in way over her horns.
His mouth twitches, visibly amused which is something considering he’s bleeding more than I was. “It’s not meant to be admired.”
“I’m not admiring it,” I lie.
Binx chitters, pointedly say: You are.
Thane’s gaze flicks to Binx again, suddenly amused. “Let me guess. He tattles.”
“He’s honest with me,” I correct.
Thane’s smile turns faintly wicked. “That must be convenient.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you mocking me?”
“No,” he says, too quick and too smooth. “Just trying to figure out what it means to have a bond.”
Oof. The way he says that… “And you don’t?”
He opens his mouth, but I realize that I don’t want to hear his answer.
“Forget it.” I take a slow breath to steady myself. “We should get out of here before anything else wants to attack.”
Thane doesn’t move. Not yet. Instead, he leans down, scoops a handful of dark dirt, and presses it against his cut without flinching. The gold smears and dulls beneath the grime.
“I don’t want anything tracking us,” he explains.
My gaze sharpens. “Something tracks blood?”
“In these woods?” He straightens. “Everything.”
Binx makes a small, disgusted noise, pressing closer to my neck. I adjust my sleeve, glad that the blood’s not seeping through the black fabric, then glance at Thane’s arm again.
From what I can see, his cut is already slowing. The blood is still gold, but there’s less of it now.
Right. Because’s he’s fae. He’s immortal.
He can be mine for eternity…
“Demons heal fast,” I blurt out, because I don’t know what else to do with the question that’s building behind my teeth. “I guess fae can, too.”
Thane tilts his head. “What kind of demoness are you, Alana?”
From the moment he saw my horns, he knew I was a demoness; he’s even called me that instead of my given name. But the way he asks that now… it’s almost like he knows that I’m not quite what I appear.
What kind of demoness am I? The answer is complicated unless you know Sombra’s history.
“I’m a halfling,” I admit at last. “Half human. Half Sombra demon.”
He studies me as if he can see the split down my bones. “And which half bleeds black?”
“Neither,” I mutter.
A laugh escapes him. It’s soft and genuine, but gone too quickly. “And your friend?” he asks, nodding to Binx.
“My soul-pet,” I correct automatically.
Thane’s brows rise. “Soul?” For a moment, his gaze lingers on Binx’s glowing eyes. Then his attention goes back to me, and his voice is careful again. “That’s right. You were just saying how demons bond. With… ungez, was it?”
Crud.
That’s not a question. That’s a trap.
I force myself to keep my face neutral. “We have mates.” I pause for a moment, remembering the word he used yesterday. “Lovers. They take part of our soul, then give us part of theirs, and it’s a bonded matrimony that can never be broken.”
Unless you appeal to Duke Haures, gather the ashbalm flower, and break it… but who would do that?
Thane stays quiet.
I can’t.
“Do fae?” I ask as casually as I can manage.
Binx’s tail flicks once against my collarbone, a warning to be careful. I know, bud. I know.
Thane’s mouth tightens, his gaze turning away from me. “No.”
“Not ever?” I press before I can stop myself.
His eyes cut back to mine, bright and sharp. “Not here.”
The emphasis means something. I just wish I knew what.
“Why not?” I ask.
He exhales through his nose. It almost sounds like a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. Not this time.
“Because Noctavara doesn’t allow it,” he says.
Something in my chest twists.
Not can’t.
Not doesn’t happen.
Not we don’t want them.
Noctavara doesn’t allow them.
“And if someone…” I begin.
Thane’s gaze flicks to my mouth. To my throat. To the place on my skin where he held his blade when we first met.
“Don’t,” he says softly.
Again with the don’ts.
I swallow. “Must be lonely.”
His mouth curves faintly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, demoness.”
Then, with an effort that feels practiced, he straightens and rolls his shoulders like he can shake off the weight of that admission.
“Come,” he says, voice returning to the same pleasant tone he uses when he’s not being cocky or demanding. “With all the blood spilled here, it’s a wonder we haven’t tracked any other creatures. We should be going if you don’t want your friend to get too far ahead.”
So fae don’t have bonds. Explain how he’s been able to figure me out so soon already? Using Rafe against me…
I make sure Binx is settled, then nod. “Lead the way, bandit.”