Chapter 31
SEAN
The evening was chilly, but Sean donned a woolen cloak and stepped onto their suite balcony anyway—alone.
Autumn had somehow convinced Cole to spend time with her, and Isobel had already retired to her own room, not that he wanted to spend the evening with her anyway.
He’d tried, but he couldn’t quite forgive her.
Settled on the wooden bench, Sean gazed at the rainbow stars and blue luminescence that reminded him of the northern lights. His breath puffed out in small clouds speckled with Luster, and he tightened his cloak when a cold wind picked up.
The Council meeting had gone about as well as expected. They felt their people’s actions against David were credible given the circumstances. A prophesied villain had threatened their foretold messiah. A rash response was to be expected.
Those people weren’t a Council, Sean decided.
They were religious fanatics, spreading lies to their flock, spurring a belief he was more than just a scared boy with Sovereign blood.
They wanted the Ashanta to deliver them.
It made them slaves to a future not yet lived.
This prophecy was controlling them, and in being controlled, they’d allowed their home to fade, they’d permitted their people to cave to superstition.
They hadn’t fought to fix it. Instead, they waited.
They grew complacent to the starvation of their own people and expected the messiah to undo it.
He was no more a savior than David was a villain.
Sean couldn’t think on it too long, because when he did, fury stirred. He needed to read the Sending, needed to understand the source of this religious fervor, how a crowd of zealots could justify murdering an innocent man in cold blood.
Because they would have killed David if they hadn’t been stopped. They were out for blood.
Beyond all that, he needed to rid himself of this nagging sense of injustice, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t eradicate it.
Because it didn’t actually belong to him.
David had leaked through.
The balcony door creaked open, and a small object was thrown against the bench beside him.
Sean glanced at David, who sat opposite him, staring into the glistening skies. With numb fingers, Sean slid the book toward himself.
On Soule Binding.
While his stomach set to churning, he fanned through the sparse pages. “Is there a way to undo it?”
“No.”
Sean’s gaze lifted toward David. “What does it mean for us?”
“You should read the book.” David’s tone came out even and controlled. Almost bored.
“Maybe I don’t want to know.”
He shrugged. “Eventually my memory of reading it will make its way to you.”
A cleansing breath did nothing to dispel Sean’s rising tension.
“It’s illegal, what she did, and it’s illegal to know she did it and not say anything.”
Sean massaged his temple as a headache bloomed. “What does that mean?”
“It means we have some decisions to make. Because either everyone is going to have to know or no one is.”
“If everyone knows, they won’t trust me anymore.” Sean paused. All the religious overtures, the bowing and fawning, would disappear. “That might actually be kind of nice.”
“If people find out, they’ll ask who did it. Bel will be punished.”
Maybe she deserved it. “You seem mad enough to want her punished.”
David snorted. “They believe wholeheartedly in corporal punishment. I’m furious, but I don’t hate her.” He paused. “That much.”
Sean leaned back. “Then maybe we say we don’t know who did it.”
David’s eyes slid his way, glinting in the dark. “Everyone would think it was me.”
“Why the hell would you do this to yourself?”
The empty expression remained, but David’s bitter feelings gleamed beneath the mask. “After today? They’ll think I was protecting myself. No one will harm me if it might hurt you.”
Sean sighed at the truth in that statement. “The Council isn’t going to punish them,” he said.
“I didn’t expect they would.”
“They wanted to kill you today. They were screaming for it.”
David nodded. “I’m very aware. That wasn’t the first time someone’s wanted to kill me. Murderous emotions are not subtle. They burn like acid.”
What must it be like, to experience the world like that? To feel every ounce of directed hate or anger? It was no wonder David preferred to hide in solitude.
Sean gazed down at the book. “So we don’t tell anyone, then. Only six people know—I told Cole, by the way—and I trust us all to keep the secret.”
David’s voice grew curiously soft. “People will figure it out, Sean.”
“How?”
“You need to read that book.”
Sean fingered the worn edge of the book’s binding. “Where did you even find this?”
Something sparked in his chest. No, in David’s chest. No—between them?
“Anna found it for me,” David said. “For us, I guess.”
Anna.
Of course.
“That was nice of her,” Sean said faintly because he could think of nothing else to say. From his peripheral vision, he noted David’s slow nod.
“She’s disgustingly thoughtful, in case you haven’t noticed.”
The man said it like it was a bad thing. Irredeemable. But a thin strand of affection wove its way through their connection, belying his words.
Great. They couldn’t even lie to each other anymore.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Sean said with a long exhale.
David pointed at the book. “Read it. It’s riveting, I promise. Life-changing.”
Life-changing.
Sean’s thoughts touched on the Sending.
You can’t tell David.
Isobel’s warning that night had seemed silly. When would he be talking to David about anything?
But now? Did David even know the Sending existed? Would anyone have bothered to tell him? Had David learned why they called Sean Savior, or did he assume it was simply the bloodline?
Isobel’s fear of that prophecy was the reason she’d bound them. If it truly predicted David might become his ancestor, that the two of them might one day become enemies, Sean needed to tell him. It affected them both.
He strangled the sigh that wanted to emerge.
Not tonight. This thing between them was too new to test with harsh truths and thoughts of betrayal. If he had to share his soul, he wanted the prodigal piece untroubled, not clawing to get free.
Sean didn’t believe in fate anyway.
At the door, David paused. They shared a look, uncertain but not uncomfortable. An understanding.
Then he was gone, and Sean was alone with the sky and the cold and the flickering Luster all about him.
He flipped open the book.
The cracked glass of his remaining hope finally shattered. The shards disseminated through his bloodstream, cutting and shredding with every beat of his heart.
The words described a pervasive force that erased two people and created something new.
The strongest parts of each personality remained, while the weaker parts faded to make room.
The spell started as a flimsy cord between them, but it would grow stronger.
They’d be connected regardless of the space between them.
Sensory information would process so they both felt it—pain first, then tactile stimulation, posture, balance, auditory, visual.
Beyond that, a time would come when their thoughts aligned, when their memories could be recalled by either party, when an emotion experienced by one would affect the other.
They’d breathe together, their hearts would beat together, and eventually those on the outside would no longer be able to tell them apart.
Every experience, thought, and opinion would be shared, and in the end, so would death—though that last part had never been proven.
The stories of those bound had been lost over the centuries, and the author remained uncertain whether the couplets had died together or because the one left behind couldn’t bear to be shred in half and ended it themself.
No antidote existed, no way to rip the souls apart without permanent damage.
When he finished, well past midnight and shivering from cold, Sean threw the book to the bench beside him. The headache pulsed in his temples.
David was asleep. How he knew this, he couldn’t say, but Sean was certain.
He was also certain he didn’t care.
Tossing his cloak to the sofa inside, he strode down Autumn and David’s hallway. With three sharp knocks, he let himself inside David’s room.
David threw his arm out to block his eyes. “Fuck, Archer.”
“It said sentient alignment, David.”
With a great sigh, David sank against his pillows. As Sean adjusted to the dimness, he registered the disheveled gold of David’s hair and the hand over his eyes, shielding himself from the light.
“I was sleeping, in case you didn’t realize,” David said, voice rusty.
“Wake up.”
“I am, you fuckwit. What do you want?”
“Sentient alignment!” Sean said again.
He pushed himself from the bed and reached for a shirt. “Do you see why we won’t be able to hide it?”
“How long?” Sean asked. “We have no idea if this is happening over days or years.”
David perched at the end of his bed, rubbing his face.
A band of steel tightened around Sean’s forehead. He winced as he sat beside David. “Why would she do this?”
“Haven’t we covered this already? What time is it? You’re such an asshole. I have to be up early for drills with that torturer you call a trainer in the morning.”
“So do I,” Sean said, nonplussed.
“Yeah, but he actually likes you. And the crowds don’t try to kill you merely for existing.”
“What are you complaining about? You spend most mornings with Anna squirming around on top of you.”
A slow grin lit up David’s face.
“Did you know there’s a prophecy?” Sean asked.
The grin fell away, and David’s body stiffened. He met Sean’s eyes, and the crystals above lit to a slight glow, casting long shadows about the room. “There is?”
“So you didn’t know? You haven’t read it?”
David’s voice went dead. “No one told me. What does it say?”
“I don’t know,” Sean admitted, ignoring the incredulous glance shot his way. “I’ve been avoiding it, honestly.”
“Are you serious? What is wrong with you?”
Fury spiked and faded. “I’ve had a lot to deal with, in case you haven’t noticed.”