As Vaskel stepped from the tavern and into the night, the village was silent save for the whisper of falling snow. Heading toward the inn, his shoulders hunched against the cold as his boots crunched the snow. The marks on his arms itched, and he scratched at them through his shirt and cloak. They'd reached his shoulder now, and soon they'd be visible to everyone, no matter how high he pulled his collar.
He picked up his pace, eager to escape the cold and find solace in his room at the inn. Then he took a quick breath, catching the scent of something both familiar and long forgotten. It was faint enough to vanish on the breeze, but not before certainty settled in his gut.
Vaskel's steps slowed, his tail going rigid as wariness slithered down his spine. He'd survived too many ambushes, too many supposedly safe nights that had turned deadly, to ignore the prickling sensation at the back of his neck. His skill at detecting danger had been why he’d bound his soul to Marina in the first place.
His hand drifted to where a blade would have been back in his adventuring days, and he cursed himself for not taking precautions.
"Hello, Vaskel."
The voice slid from the shadows beside the bakery, as smooth as well-aged whiskey and twice as intoxicating. A voice he hadn't heard in years but would recognize anywhere, in any lifetime.
Marina stepped into the moonlight, and his breath caught in his throat.
She hadn't aged a day. Her skin was the deep crimson of fresh blood, darker than his own, and it seemed to glow against the falling snow. Her hair spilled in waves of black past her shoulders, and those devastating amber eyes that had once made him do terrible, foolish things glinted as if lit from within. She wore black leather that clung to every dangerous curve, and her tail swayed behind her hypnotically.
He sucked in a sharp breath, the smoky, sultry scent of her now filling his nostrils and dredging up memories that slammed into him.
"Marina." The name scraped past his lips like a curse.
Her laugh was low and rich, the sound wrapping around him like silk bindings. “You look startled to see me, my darling. I would think you’d be expecting me.”
She moved closer, and he found himself frozen, unable to retreat or advance. The marks on his skin seared in response to her proximity, pulsing with a heat that had everything to do with the bond between them. “Just because I was expecting you doesn’t mean I wasn’t dreading you.”
She hummed in response, cocking her head to one side as she studied him. She finally reached out to trace a finger along his jaw. “You look weary. This quaint little village life doesn't suit you. You're meant for more than pouring ale and pretending to be tame."
He flinched but didn't pull away. He couldn't. "I'm not pretending anything," he managed, though his voice came out more ragged than intended.
"No?" Her hand slid down to rest over his heart, which thrummed restlessly. "Then why does our bond burn? Why does your heart pound for me?”
"That's not—" He stopped, unable to deny what they both knew was true. The soul bind wasn't just spreading. The embers scorching his veins were pulling him toward her with every beat of his heart.
"I've come to collect what's mine," Marina said simply, as if discussing the weather. "Our deal, remember? Your soul bound to mine for eternity. You can't run from it, Vaskel. You can't hide from it in this sleepy village."
"I'm not hiding. This is my home now."
She laughed again, but there was an edge to it this time. "Home? These simple villagers with their simple lives? You're a hellkin, Vaskel. You're meant for chaos and passion, for danger and debauchery.” She gestured dismissively at the peaceful village around them. “Not this.”
"You know nothing about my life here."
"I know enough." Her eyes glowed brighter, and the marks on his skin responded, sending flames licking up his arm. "I know you tend bar like a common servant. I know you pine for that human apothecary who'll never understand your true nature. I know you pretend to be satisfied with friendship and belonging when your blood sings for more."
Each word was a dagger, perfectly aimed.
"I have a new crew," Marina continued, stepping so close he could breathe in her scent of smoldering ash and dark promises. "Hellkins who understand what we are and what we're meant to be. No more hiding, no more pretending. Just power and freedom and the life you were born to live."
She reached up, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head down until their faces were inches apart. "Come with me, Vaskel. Leave this place behind. Be who you were always meant to be."
The soul bind pulled at him, demanding, insisting, screaming that he belonged with her, to her, that this was his fate. Marina smiled, knowing she had him. Knowing the bind would win.
“I’ve waited long enough to collect,” she purred, her breath warm against his lips. “It’s time, Vaskel.”
Fourteen
Vaskel stared down at Marina,waiting for the familiar pull of desire, the heat that had once consumed him whenever she was near. He waited for his blood to sing, for his resolve to crumble, and for all the old hungers to resurface.
Nothing came.
Where once there had been an inferno, now there was only ash. Where once her beauty had devastated him, now he saw it for what it was. It was a weapon, as cold as the most sharply forged steel. The soul bind might burn in his veins, but his heart remained unmoved.
