Without the ability to raise a mental ward, he’s spent these last few months feeling everything I feel through our bond. I’ve no doubt he feels my fear now.
“Is this too much?” he asks, genuine concern sharpening his features.
“No,” I answer, daring to lift my chin to meet his gilded gaze. It’s not entirely the truth, but it’s what I’m willing to give. “Crowds set me at unease. I am the observer, not the observed.”
Attention in the hells can be damning.
It’s safer to go unnoticed.
He gives me a heart-melting smile. “You’re safe here,” he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Our people are simply curious. Seeing us gives them hope. They want to be happy for us. Let them.”
Ourpeople.
The words ring strangely in my ears.
“I’d be willing to wager you saved more than one of them,” he adds, his voice low.
My eyes race upward, taking in the crowd ahead. More than a few faces peer in our direction. It’s entirely possible Ryc is right. But I know better than to believe I’m any shade of savior.
What I did, I did forme.
The fact others benefited is nothing more than anaside.
“Let’s hope they’ve learned to avoid bartering with their souls,” I say and Ryc nods.
“Gods bless our king of light!” another voice from the crowd rings out.
“King of light?” I repeat, giving him a confused look. “Is your innate that notable?”
Light wielders aren’t rare, but they’re not exactly common either.
“I am the first light wielder in a long line of shadow wielders,” he answers.
An innate inherited from Gaia no doubt.
“Thalion?” I ask, curious.
“Shadows,” Ryc replies. “Forfeited.”
Forfeited for hellfire.
Not an offer I would ever take.
Even if Vaelyn were to appear before me this instant and offer to return my shadows should I sign a contract, I wouldn’t. I have never and will never again belong to the hells.
“Your people weren’t upset with you being different?”
“Of course not,” Ryc laughs. “Granted, after centuries of Thalion, I think Erus would have welcomed a demon in his stead with open arms.”
“You make it sound like he was awful,” I say, my confusion etching itself onto my face.
Ryc purses his lips, mulling over how to respond.
“He grew worse over time,”Ryc says through our bond.“The longer his contract remained, the stronger Netharis’ influence became.”
Not unusual.
In fact, quite the expected trajectory for those who sign with Netharis. A slim few prove capable of withstanding the urges Netharis imposes.
