My words wouldn’t stop, rambling over my tongue in a frenzy I’d never admitted to anyone before. “When I confessed I wanted to please him, he told me the dark power was still too much a piece of me and I needed to learn how to be rid of it before I could be a wife. So, he gaveme to another who was willing to show me how I could bleed out the darkness.”
Jonas stopped his approach. “You cannot remove magic from the blood, Skadi.”
“I know that now.” My voice trembled. “But when each lesson was over, he told me everything I wanted to hear. My heart was so bleeding weak, I started to think I loved him more than the prince. When I confessed, he said if I kept to his lessons, he would love me back.”
With trembling fingers, I tugged at my dress, showing one of the swirling coils of ink over a scar. “So, I did. I tried, night after night, bleeding out.”
“Fire.” Jonas’s eyes were dark with hate when he looked at the tattoo. “That bastard.”
I turned away when my husband reached for me, the prickle of wretched hands reborn on my skin, the cruel words clashing in my ears.
I clenched my eyes shut. “They both started to watch, always telling me to go deeper, to try harder. Only when they thought it was enough would one of them touch me. One said it was to teach me how to please a husband, for the prince it was his way of insisting I know what brought him pleasure. I actually thought I was fortunate two different men wanted my heart. In reality, they both just enjoyed causing pain.”
Jonas drew in a sharp breath through his nose, once, twice, then pulled me close again. His thumb brushed over one of the coils of ink. “These are from your own hand.”
My knees went weak, but I nodded. “No one did it to me.”
“Gods, Skadi, yes they did. You were manipulated into thinking there was something so horrible about you that you needed to bleed it out. Don’t you see how wrong that was?”
“Yes. When I started to recognize it would never be enough, I dared ask my grandfather if such a practice would ever prove successful. He was horrified, demanded I never attempt such a thing, but didn’t know I already had. It is why I covered them in something that was beautiful to me.”
Jonas’s eyes darkened, but I didn’t think it was his mesmer. “So this was Arion?”
I held his stare. “Some of it. He was the one who sent me to learn how to be a good wife for him.”
Muscles worked on both sides of his jaw. “I’ll kill him.”
“You can’t.” I reached for his arm. “Promise me. You cannot touch him or any elven, remember? I will not have him be the reason something else was destroyed.”
It took him a moment to speak. “If he ever shows his face near you again, I do not give a damn about any condition on a piece of parchment. His head will be mounted on that wall.” The prince pointed to where fae battle tomes were stacked. “The perfect place.”
“I simply want to forget him.”
“Good. He will be forgotten when he is dead. Did you ever tell Eldirard the truth of how he was hurting you?”
I shook my head. “I was ashamed, and Arion was a prince of blood. I was a princess of selection.”
To reveal Arion’s true heart felt as though a heavy stone had been lifted off my bent spine. He took everything from me, and left me bloodied and broken in the end.
“Who else knew of this?” Jonas stepped closer. “You said they.”
“Cian.” I lifted my chin. “It was Cian’s idea to bleed the darkness out. He is Arion’s guard when the prince visits Natthaven, but also his wretched friend. He said he could teach me how to please the prince, but it was all part of their twisted ways of humiliating me.”
“You shall have matching heads on your wall.”
“Jonas, no matter what happened, it does not change the truth that my affinity killed beyond my control in the past. Perhaps it is better to keep a distance; I would never forgive myself if I hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that!” A sob broke free.
“I do.” He took me in his arms; together we slid to the floor. I settled between his legs, my head cradled under his chin. Jonas rubbed a hand across my back. “You are not my kin, you’ve become a part of my soul, and no magic is more powerful than that.”
“Your sweet words are appreciated, but they are your hopes. You don’t know.”
Jonas kissed me with a new kind of tenderness. “Fine. How about this—if you try to steal my life away, I vow to fight back with my tongue here.” My wretched prince dipped his head, kissing my throat, the tip of his tongue running along my pulse point. “Or here.” His thumb grazed over the front of one nipple beneath the thin silk shift.
“Jonas.” I pressed my forehead to his, breaths rough.
