Food. I need food and to think.
I shook my head as I swung my legs from the bed, walking quickly across the cool stone floor to the adjacent bathroom.
It, like everything else in Rohak’s life—save for me—was militant and sparse, only the necessities present as if even the thought of frivolity could distract him from the seriousness of his position.
Steam rose in soft, lazy strands from the large steel tub in the middle of the room, emitting the faint scent of eucalyptus, as if Rohak dumped oil in the steaming water for me.
My body warmed at the thought, the corners of my mouth ticking slightly. It seemed the tough exterior of Vespera’s fiercest general was just that: a hardened shell that protected a soft underbelly. I’d known that about Rohak for quite some time, but these little actions only projected it louder than ever.
I wasted no time in plunging myself deep within the tub, letting my legs fold beneath me and my head completely submerge beneath the surface of the water. Dirt and dead skin instantly sloughed off my body and hair to float in the tub. I broke the surface with a deep gasp, relishing in the feeling of warmth and the promise of cleanliness.
There was a sponge and bar of soap on a small table next to the tub, and I grabbed both, quickly wetting and lathering the sponge before scrubbing my skin until it felt raw and looked pink even beneath its natural light-brown hue.
Once my skin was cleaned, I poured a generous amount of scentless shampoo in my hands before lathering it into my curls and massaging my scalp. The water that dripped from my hair was a disgusting shade of brown so dark it was nearly black, as ash and rubble, blood and brain matter, were roughly scrubbed away.
I cringed outwardly at the inevitable state of my curls after my aggressive washing, especially without the oils and creams I generally used to keep my curlsmoisturized and coiled. The once-clean and warm water was decidedly cooler and more opaque than when I first submerged, and I gagged as I released the drain, watching as the quickly retreating water left a mark of debris in a perfect circle around the tub.
After wrapping my hair and body in separate linen towels, I took a third and hastily wiped at the copper of the tub, neither wanting Rohak nor the manor’s staff to see the dirt left behind.
My body buzzed from the warmth of the water and Rohak’s constant presence in my mind. I used the latter as my flimsy excuse to shove his Mage blacks against my nose and greedily inhale the smell of something so inherently Rohak that it made my heart pang.
I miss him.
I shook my head in shock, eyes blinking rapidly at the bizarre thought as I quickly dressed in his clothes. They were perfectly baggy, and I only had to cuff the pants once for them to fit. The sleeves of the tunic I left as is, happy to have them cover my hands if I wanted to burrow further within Rohak’s clothes.
This is all so odd, I mused as I padded lightly back into his bedroom. The bed was inviting, and I nearly reclaimed my spot, but scooped up my journal and pencil once I saw the debris that was left behind from our dirty bodies.
That will need to be washed . . . or burned.
Instead, something low in my belly pulled me toward the door connecting Rohak’s bedroom to his sitting room. I followed, easing the giant wooden door open enough to slip through into the room beyond. It was empty—of Rohak, most furniture, and possessions—but I found a comfortable position curled up against the arm of his sofa.
My soft pants slid against the leather of the cushion, and I had to adjust myself a few times before I finally tucked my feet beneath my bottom and rested my journal against the armrest. I flipped through it absently, searching for the table that catalogued the other Life Bonds’ side effects. I found it quickly enough and, earmarking it, flipped to the next section where I sketched each of the Life Bond Marks.
Each looked the same, like a slightly bastardized version of the Bonding Mark that tied a Vessel to a Mage. Both the Life Bond and a regular Bond held the same six overlapping whorls, but the Life Bond was encased in larger, connecting concentric circles.
I pushed the sleeve of Rohak’s tunic up to expose my forearm, frowning when I noticed the immediate difference between our mark and that of a Life Bond.
The normal Bonding Mark was present, but where the Life Bond had two concentric, connecting circles, our Bond Mark was surrounded by one perfect circle.
I bit my lip in thought as I delicately traced the strange tattoo, shivering slightly in pleasure as my fingertip ran the length of the iridescent lines.
Humming quietly, I lost myself in the sketch of our Bond Mark, noting the irregularities and differences between the three before flipping back to my previous page. I added a fifth column to the chart and began detailing what I knew about our Bond, at least from my experience.
The regular Bonds—Forced or True—never had the ability to communicate telepathically. While there were some instances where the Bonded pair could feel echoes of each other’s emotions, the Bond truly served to connect a Vessel to a Mage, and nothing more.
Life Bonds, however, were a bit more complex. Forced Life Bonds experienced a myriad of different effects, though rarely more than one. True Life Bonds—like Ben and Asha—were able to feel each other’s emotions and communicate telepathically while also sharing a life force and allowing Ben to draw his magic from Asha.
None of these benefits appeared until after the Bonded couple were intimate.
How is it that Rohak and I can feel each other, can communicate already?
I sighed forcefully, my breath fluttering the pages of my journal.
If we had sex, I would’ve remembered it, right?
I was interrupted by the click of a lock as the door swung open to reveal a winded Rohak carrying two very full trays and trailed by Cotton.
“MEOW!” Cotton screeched before scampering across the floor, nearly tripping Rohak in the process, before leaping onto my lap. He purred loudly as I cooed and scratched behind his ears, his little paws kneading my lap until he found a comfortable position.
