I roll my eyes, tucking my hair out of my face as a fever washes over me. I remind myself of all his promises, ignoring the call of temptation. He lifts his gloved hand to his mouth, pulling it off with his teeth, and the action sets my skin afire.
Maybe Iwillbreak first after all.
“So … partners?” Draven holds out his bare hand for me to take, letting it hang in the air. Three stars are tattooed in the tender space between his thumb and forefinger, and more of the heavy linework I saw on his father curves and juts across the rest of his hand—the outline of the World card imprinted there for all to see. My heart races in my chest as I wait for some unseen trap to spring, or someone to interrupt this moment, warning me to stop.
But it’s just him and me.
I clasp his arm and feel his thumb trace across the fabric of my inner elbow. “What are those three stars for?”
“That’s my business.” The rebuttal is sharp. He clearly didn’t intend to sound defensive.
“Is this really how you’re going to start this? You’d break the pact before we even begin.”
He huffs out a sigh. “One for each member of my family. Happy?”
I read him over, and though he holds my gaze, part of me wonders if he means the one surrounding him or wherever it was he came before. If he even remembers. More mysteries for me to uncover later, especially if we’re bound in truth.
“Yes. No lies between partners.” I squeeze his arm harder, the muscle beneath the jacket steadying. My loyalty will come wrapped in golden dressings, my devotion to him second only to my family. Hells, equal to them, as I can’t save them without him. Our fates will be bound from here on out. I can swear that. I will swear that.
The smile lurking at the edges of his mouth rises, like a wolf cornering a sheep.
“Then it’s a deal. So long as you hold up your end, I’ll keep mine.”
At these words, a magic splices through my veins, magnetizing my arm to his. I can’t draw away. My mouth goes slick, my insides are like trapped lightning. The World card at my hip rises out of the pack of cards. His draws out, too. If I wasn’t so close, I wouldn’t notice the strain in his clenched jaw, or the swallow that bobs in his throat, his forearm tendons flexing as the two cards float above our joined arms. They twist in unison until they’ve made full circles, a rainbow of light flaring out of each before they glow gold. My forearm burns as if it’s been set on fire, until finally our Arcana cards drop to our feet.
I’m flooded with relief as we break apart and take a step back from him, shaking my arm out, the muscles locked up. We both scoop up our cards, and the desire to just sit on the ground is nearly overwhelming. I force myself to stand.
“What … was that?”
“An Immortal Pact.” He rubs his forearm as if he’s been burned by an oven. My own stings. It must be bleeding. I roll my sleeve up and blanch at a dark symbol branded there, a raven mid-flight, the lines sharp and flawless. He grimaces when he sees it but doesn’t reveal his own. Maybe it matches mine, or maybe it somehow represents me. I’m too distracted by the pain to find out.
“You could’ve warned me,” I grumble, running a thumb over the marking, but it doesn’t seep blood or fade away. It’s just there, already healed, yet beneath the surface it feels fresh as a new bruise.
“It’s been a very long time since I’ve made one.” I hate how hungrily he observes me. Then as he blinks, the starvation wipes away, a passivity sweeping over him as he requests, “Tell me a lie. Anything. I want to be sure it works.”
“Fine … um.” I struggle to come up with anything creative, but I’m suddenly bone-tired and just want to go to sleep. I can say I’m left-handed, that should work. “I’m l— I’m lllll— I’mright-handed.” My tongue trips and half my words are slurred, but I can’t lie. A little slice of panic slips under my skin, not as hard as when I swore loyalty to the king, but still … it’s uncomfortable.
Draven smirks. “And do you find me attractive, Rune?”
I glower at him, furious. His smile broadens the longer I hesitate, but I realize I don’t have toanswerhim. I just cannot lie to him. I grin as I realize my out and his eyes watch my mouth as if he wishes to draw out the words.
“What’s next?” I ask instead, and he huffs, as if I’m no fun.
“We focus on researching the Arcadian Artifacts. You also need to study harder than your peers, especially with the Arcana that will most help you in a fight if we ever get into a situation like that again.” He runs a hand through his long hair, shoulders hunched, eyes barely staying open. “With your focus on the High Priestess, you’ve started falling behind everywhere else. And you still need to keep working on your mental wards.”
“How do you know I’m falling behind?” My gaze narrows and he opens his mouth, eyes suddenly skittish. He flashes me a surprisingly humble grin.
“Color me curious.” He shrugs, and my heart pounds, noting a hint of flush at his cheeks. It clears, his movements controlled yet vulpine again. “We’ll need to make our infatuation appear gradual but believable. Otherwise, there’s little chance of fooling the others. But we need to focus on fostering your power, too. People won’t just believe you’re a force to be reckoned with, we need to show them.”
“Right. Thanks, by the way, for not accidentally slipping a compliment into all that.” I cross my arms. “I’d hate to think you thought highly of me.”
“I do think highly of you, and not just because you hate it,” he says silkily.
“Do you think everyone knows what happened here tonight?” I swallow down my nerves, not wanting to let him know how agitated his attention made me tonight, though I suspect he noticed.
“I’m sure the Court is thriving off rumors right now.” Draven unbuttons his collar, my eyes dragging to the movement. “Tomorrow everyone will know I’ve announced you as my fated mate. Hollow Fest is coming up in a few weeks, but after the festivities my father wants to send me to the elven kingdom of Alfheim, to obtain some dark crystal, zenith, along our border.”
I raise a questioning brow.
