“I possess the journal of the goddess’s killer, make a blood bargain with me and it is yours.”
My pulse quickened, and I raised my palm towards him, offering for him to do the same to mine. If books existed on the Relics, I needed them.
He looked at my hand and then back up at my face, amusement flashing in those endless eyes.
“Do not tempt me.” His voice had deepened slightly, and I drew my hand back instinctively. How naïve was I? I had just offered a blood-sucking Fae to sink his teeth into me. He picked up the dagger from the blanket with his large, callused hand. He flipped it and caught it by the blade, extending the hilt towards me.
My fingers wrapped around the handle, accidently brushing over his fingers and a shock of heat sparked where our skin met.
His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, a quickflicker of something dark flashing in his eyes. He dropped the dagger into my palm as if my touch had repulsed him. I stared into his onyx eyes as I ran his blade across my hand, slowly and deliberately not flinching from its sharp bite.
His strong jaw flexed, his gaze darkening as he watched me intently. A small gasp escaped me as his large hand grasped mine, our blood mingling between our palms. He murmured something in a language I did not understand before opening his eyes. They were completely black again. This close, it was terrifying.
“I will give you the journal,” he murmured darkly. “Onceyou earn it, it’s yours and until you imbue enough weapons for me, we cannot kill each other.”
His eyes bore into me so heavily that they felt like a physical force. Drowning me all over again.
“Now you repeat your end of the bargain,” he grunted, as if I were daft.
“I willimbueyour weapons,or whatever it is you ask of me.”
He gave me an unsettling smile as heat radiated through my palm and into my very soul. Searing. Alive. It felt as though I’d pressed my skin against a brand, and it had set every nerve on fire. I flinched, staring in shock as intricate lines bloomed over the skin of my left hand.
Delicate, deliberate lines that formed a symbol, pulsing with latent power. It was a wave, mid-crash, curled fiercely towards the stars inked above it. Sharp, celestial points arranged in a constellation I didn’t recognize, yet something inside meachedwith familiarity. The crashing tide mirrored the very shores of home… and the stars above felt like a map etched into my soul.
“Interesting,” the Commander ground out, voicelowered. I looked up and noticed he was studying an identical mark on the back of his own left hand.
“What does it mean?” I whispered.
His starless eyes shimmered with something unreadable. “A physical reminder of our bargain. If one of us breaks it, we both die.” My heart stuttered. The large male stood, and without sparing me another glance, stormed from the tent.What have I done?
Nineteen
Behind Enemy Lines
Another night passed, and sleep offered no mercy. I had dreamt of death—mydeath.
Countless times, and yet, each death was in a different place with a different dress clinging to my skin. But in the end, it was the same sword through my heart, wielded by the same man I could not see.
I burrowed further into the soft furs of the bed. The delicious scent of caramel and fresh night air was long gone, replaced by the sour stench of shame and grief that clung to my skin.
The monster lurking beneath my skin had replenished, and it felt as though it was its own sentient being. I could feel it, curling tightly around the cracked pieces of my heart, willing it not to shatter.
My only reprieve from my thoughts and nightmares was Cerilla. She brought me food, fresh clothes, and tended to my wounds. Despite her being a creature that I had been raised to fear, she was nicer to me than most of my own kind had ever been. I found myself almost looking forward to seeing her. She felt like a small candle flickering in thedepths of night, not enough to illuminate, but enough to stop me from being blind.
I was trapped here. Bound to the formidable Commander of Death for a task I did not understand because of a power I couldn’t control that was connected to a goddess killed a thousand years ago.
I didn’t know what I was, only that the moment anyone saw therealme, they either tried to kill me or use me. I should have accepted that I was unlovable by now, but the hollow feeling growing in my chest felt like it would consume me.
I hadn’t let myself think about Dreya. Not really. Her warmth had curdled into hatred the moment she saw me yield water. She had been the first person I thought might be a friend. Instead, she had been the first to try to kill me without hesitation.
Is that how Orin would have looked at me as he shoved his blade through my heart?
I buried my face in the pillow and screamed until my lungs burned dry, until my body convulsed and the sound ripped itself out of me, jagged and broken, leaving nothing behind but pain and breathless silence.
Grief swelled in my chest, sharp and suffocating. I shoved it down before it could drown me. I could not afford to mourn people who would gladly watch me die.
“Why do you scream?”
