"Feel what?" Lorenth's voice has gone cold, dangerous in a way that makes goosebumps rise on my arms.
"The fates at work." Serai leans forward, bracing her hands on the booth's edge. "Souls recognizing souls." She looks at me directly, and I feel pinned beneath her attention. "I can feel it. Surely you must."
My breath stops. The words send a jolt of fear through me, each one sinking deep and settling somewhere I can't reach.
Bound. Souls. Meant for each other.
No.
That's not—we just met. We danced and ate winter-berries and drank wine and I felt something but it can't be that. Can't be some cosmic destiny tying me to a man I barely know. Not mention I was sold to someone else. Tonight was just…I wasmaking a new friend. It can't be our souls actually meant for each other.
Can it?
I stare up at Lorenth, searching his face for denial, for logic, for anything that will make this make sense. But he's not looking at Serai anymore.
He's looking at me.
And in his eyes, beneath the shock and the carefully controlled mask he wears, I see something that makes my stomach drop.
Recognition.
Like he's been waiting for someone to name what he's been feeling. Like Serai just gave voice to something he already knew but didn't want to admit.
"That's impossible," I whisper, but my voice shakes.
Serai laughs, the sound musical and infuriating. "The gods rarely care what we think is possible. They work in their own time, weave their own patterns." She straightens, her braids clicking. "But you'll see. Give it time. Give it truth. The bond doesn't lie."
Lorenth's hand tightens around mine, and I feel his pulse through his palm—fast, erratic, matching my own. But it makes me wonder…
Is it because he thinks it's impossible, too, or is he hoping just like I shouldn't be?
5
LORENTH
The bond doesn't lie.
Serai's words echo in my skull like a death knell. Or a blessing. I can't fucking tell which.
I came here because Lora wore me down. Because she was relentless and I was tired and I thought—fuck, I thought nothing would come of it. That I'd suffer through an hour of this madness, go home, and forget the whole damn thing ever happened.
But I've been standing in this square for hours now. Hours. Watching Senna's face light up at every new thing she sees, listening to her laugh, feeling her hand in mine like it was made to fit there. And the whole time, there's been this pull. This inexplicable, consuming need to stay close to her. To touch her. To make sure no one else gets near her.
I thought it was just attraction. Thought I was finally feeling something again after years of shutting myself down, of focusing on duty and business and keeping House Varyon afloat. Thought maybe I just wanted her because she's beautiful and bright and so fucking alive it hurts to look at her.
But now Serai's named it. Given shape to this thing clawing at my chest.
Soulmate.
The word tastes like ash and honey all at once.
I look down at Senna, still clutched against my side, and her face has gone pale beneath the mask. Her eyes—those storm-gray eyes that have been full of wonder all night—are wide with something that looks dangerously close to panic.
Shit.
I'm going to kill Serai for this. For saying it out loud before either of us was ready. Before I could figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do with this information.
"Come on." My voice comes out rougher than I intend, and I guide Senna away from the booth before Serai can say anything else. Before she can make this worse.
