“The way I trustedyou?” I spit. I don’t care if he had good reasons—the result is the same. “The way I trusted Em?” I ball my hands into fists. Whatever his intentions were, he still chose to betray me. “The way I trusted people I had known my entire life?” I barely notice how my nails dig into the flesh of my palms. “Because that wasn’t worth shit in the end, was it?” My rage is so profound that I’m physically shaking as I stalk to where he stands. “Was it?” I scream it to his face, barely noticing the startled glances from the Accepted scurrying through the hall. I don’t care who hears. “And did you just say ‘misunderstanding’?Misunderstanding!” I let out a dry laugh. “Has your mind burned to ashes?” My roar echoes back to me through the grand hall.
He takes a deep breath but looks otherwise unaffected, and I curse myself for losing my temper. I should know better. A property who loses her temper is dead, but years of piled-up anger and emotions are making their way out at this very moment.
“Surely your new friends could have taught you something more valuable than just an extended vocabulary,” Llyr says with another disapproving glance toward Vilder.
My vision blurs, and I snap my teeth together so hard my jaw hurts, fearing that if I open my mouth, I’ll explode on him again.
“Let. Them. Be.” It’s all I can manage to press out through my clenched teeth.
He turns his attention back to me. “Laïna...” His voice is soft. “I never meant to hurt you. If you had given me some time to explain—”
“Explain what, exactly? Why you sold me into slavery? Made me a braced property? Let Master Coperie torture me day after day?” My gaze hardens. “Does this look like protection to you?” I pull up my sleeves for everyone to see, my anger at Llyr stronger than my shame for the scars,and Ilyana sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth. I cock my head at Llyr. “Please,” I say in my sweetest voice, “go on and explain our little...misunderstanding.”
“I did not know.” His voice is barely a whisper. “And I tried to tell you when we were on the cliff... I swear on Mah, Laïna, I truly did not know.”
I scoff. “Even if I did believe you—which I don’t—what makes you think I would enjoy being Master Coperie’s mistress? What gave you the right to choose such a thing for me? Did you think the man who gave me these”—I wave my scarred arms in the air—“would be a considerate lover? True, I never had my first bleed. True, he never got to take me to bed. But you could not have known that.”
“But he did not touch you,” he says quietly.
“No, he didn’ttouchme,” I say, sugarcoating my voice. “He burningtortured meinstead!”
Seniia, glaring daggers at Llyr, rushes forward, pulling me into her embrace. Stepping back, she cups my face, staring me straight in the eyes. “Dear gods, Laïna. I’m so sorry. If I had known...” She trails off, a lost look on her face.
“Even if you had known,” I whisper, the words catching in my dry throat, “there was nothing you could have done. I was soulbound, remember?”
She squeezes me tight again.
The stillness that follows is palpable. All my pent-up anger gone, I feel deflated. Vulnerable. A wave of desolate emptiness washes over me, its familiar claws digging into my heart. Somehow, my outburst has left me feeling more hollow than ever.
“Llyr?” Ilyana’s hand lingers on his shoulder for a moment before he brushes it off, his gaze firmly fixed elsewhere, pointedly avoiding both of us.
“There is more to this story than you think,” he says, but I can’t tell if he’s talking to me or Ilyana. He takes a step toward me, Seniia’sarm wrapped around my shoulders. “Why don’t you and I go talk somewhere a bit more private?” There’s a plea in his eyes.
“Why? So you can slap a brace on me again?” I stare at him. “I don’t think so.”
His flinch makes me think that’s exactly what he planned to talk me into. Crossing my arms, I give him my best version of a threating stare, daring him to touch me. “I willnotbe bound by anything or anyone ever again,” I say. “In fact, I’d rather chop my arm off.” I stare at him, daring him to say another word.
Ilyana clears her throat. “I am sure we can find a solution that suits everyone,” she says diplomatically. “Right, Llyr?” She gives him a sharp look.
“Right,” he says. “But if Laïna would listen...” He lifts his hands, only to let them drop to his sides in an exasperated gesture, shoulders sagging.
I close my eyes and pray the Rean gods will show me some mercy. The Father sure as ash never did, so I don’t feel too guilty about my sudden conversion.
“Why don’t you use a soulbinding against him, Laïna?” Seniia whispers in my ear. Her eyebrows lift in encouragement when I glance at her. “You can do this.”
I search my mind for her exact wording. What was it she said about the C’elen and their soulbindings the day we met?
“A promise given to a C’elen cannot be broken, as sure as they cannot break a promise given to you. It’s called a soulbinding.”
A spark of hope ignites inside me. If I can get him to make a promise he will be bound to keep... Come to think of it, I have neither money—unless I count the useless iron pennies, and they’re more likely to cause my death than keep me alive—nor a place to stay. So maybe... maybe if I can stay here knowing I will retain my freedom, that’s a deal I’m willing to make. Vilder and Seniia will be here. The thought of staying close to them quenches any lingering doubts I might have. I lift my gaze to meet his.
“I’ll come with you on one condition,” I say. “If you promise to let me be a free guest of the Arc, to come and go as I please, and to not let anyone, including yourself, put a brace on me again.”
He glances toward Ilyana, and the fact that he needs her approval almost makes me spin around to leave right then and there. The only thing that holds me back is the fact that they will no doubt catch me and drag me back here whether I’m willing or not. My gaze flickers between the two of them, studying their strange interaction. They’re clearly having a conversation, except they’re not talking out loud.
“Bonded,” Vilder whispers under his breath.
I frown up at him.
