My chest tightens, and I feel sick, though the sudden flood of emotions attacking me makes no sense. It’s as though my body knows something my mind has yet to grasp.
“No, Ido notunderstand. You and I are bound?—”
“Yes, but the bond we share is only a connection. A link. If I lose mylife, you do not lose yours. For Colden and me…We are two halves of the same whole, Raina. My immortality only goes so far as the king’s.”
There’s no keeping the truth from sinking in now.
“No.”The word forms on my fingers without thought. I sign it again and again as understanding rattles my heart.
Alexus stands and takes my face in his strong hands. The look in his eyes and the expression twisting his handsome features answer every question racing through my mind, sealing my heart in cold dread. I close my eyes and search for the threads of his life, expecting to see them as they should be now that Neri is gone from him.
But no. Alexus still bears multiple threads. Glimmering shadows.
Colden’s life. And now mine.
I pull away from him and flee the room, unsure where I’m going. The fear of losing a man I only recently came to know should not hold so much power over me, yet it consumes. The cresting wave rises, and this time, it’s going to sweep me under.
No wonder Colden and Nephele didn’t seem worried about Alexus’s life on Winter Road. He’s bound to the Frost King unto death. If Colden Moeshka loses his life at the hands of the Prince of the East or anyone else, he will take Alexus with him.
And there won’t be a damn thing I can do to stop it.
The next morning, Nephele wakes me.
“Hey, Sunshine.” She uses my old nickname, but the light of it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Alexus called a meeting, and he’d like it if you’d attend. Let’s get you dressed.”
I sit up and scrub my face, dragging my hands through my hair. After accidentally stumbling awkwardly into Rhonin’s room the night before, I found a dark nook at the end of the hall and hid, crying until there were no tears left to lose. When the wave passed, I blessedly found Nephele’s chambers. She and Hel shared the bed with me. Neither pried about why I’d abandoned Alexus in the middle of the night or why I couldn’t stop shuddering with aftershocks. They took turns holding me, and I clung to them, so thankful they were there.
“Where is Hel?”I ask my sister.
Nephele begins rummaging through her wardrobe. “Downstairs with Rhonin, preparing for the meeting. They’re very strategic people, those two. I think they’ll make great friends.” With a tunic in hand, she sits on the edge of the bed. The whites of her eyes are clearer today, but Istill see exhaustion and so much sadness. “Do you want to talk about last night?” she asks.
I shake my head. All we’ve talked about has been so painful. Our discussion about Mother and Father, the God Knife, and her life here with Colden was so much to endure. I’m not ready to delve into anything more. To tell her my heart aches because Alexus’s life hangs in the balance, and that I fear her dear friend captivated me the moment I first looked upon his face. I can’t tell her that I thought of a million ways to save Colden Moeshka last night, nor that I had to stop myself from sneaking out of the castle and stealing a horse to ride toward the Summerlands alone. She’s been through so much. Her heart isn’t just broken, it’s shattered. She doesn’t need to bear my heartache as well.
“It has been a harrowing journey,” I sign.“I am only tired and worried.”
“Yes.” She glances at her hands, fidgeting with the ties on the tunic, but I can see the way her eyes pull tight and her chin lifts. The way she fights to appear strong. “Colden doesn’t believe that Fia will bend, even with his life hanging in the balance. It’s been so long. They don’t hold the same feelings anymore.” She takes my hand. “I also know that Alexus will do his damnedest to get Colden back, and I hold every confidence that the prince, no matter what magick he holds, will not defeat Fia Drumera. Tiressia will not fall into his hands.”
These words are for her own comfort, and perhaps mine, too, but much as I might want to be, I’m not convinced. She may know about the Summerland mage, and the Prince of the East may have touched her magick, but she hasn’t seen inside his soul. She doesn’t realize how virulent he truly is.
“I saw Alexus this morning,” she says, changing the subject. “He stopped to make sure you were all right.”
I sigh and swallow hard. I don’t want to have this conversation. It’s been so very long since I’ve seen her. We’ve so much else to say.
“I don’t really know what happened between you two last night or during your time in Frostwater Wood,” she adds, “but I could sense the magnetism you share. That much was very clear in the construct.” She flits her delicate fingertips across the rune visible in the slit of my gown. “And he marked you. That’s no small thing,Raina. It means heclaimedyou. Alexus has never claimed anyone. It’s an ancient Eastern rite. It means he shared his power with you. You might not feel it now, since his magick is still mostly dormant, but eventually, with some practice, you’ll be able to harness his power, and the bond between you two will only grow deeper roots. If you don’t want that sort of connection, you can tell him. It can be changed.”
I nod, but I don’t know what to say because I don’t know what I want. Alexus said I could reverse the rune, but I don’t truly understand the implications of all that’s happened yet. I only know it feels right to have Alexus Thibault’s mark on my skin, though now I must ask myself if I’m being foolish. I’ve opened myself to a man who has already changed me so much. I can’t imagine what will happen if I let this go further.
Worse still, part of me wants to find out.
Half an hour later, Nephele and I stroll downstairs and enter a magnificent three-story library with at least a hundred times the number of books that fill Alexus’s room. I’m wearing my sister’s clothes, a fine, red affair more ornate than anything I’ve ever owned in the valley. I would love it if not for the fact that, right now, it reminds me of the prince—of blood and death and his creeping, crimson shadows—and I’m so tired of thinking about all those things.
Alexus sits at the head of a long, gleaming table strewn with maps. The old iron key I noticed on his desk now hangs from his neck. His hair is tied back, and he’s clad in black, a dark knight if I’ve ever seen one.
I rip my gaze away the moment his stare caresses me from crown to toe. The mark on my chest warms at his nearness, reminding me that I’m his in an odd sort of way.
A dozen men and women I’ve never met sit around the sprawling table. Another dozen stand along the edges of the fire-warmed room, including Hel and Rhonin. Every spine is rigid, faces drained of color.
Nephele and I sit, and Alexus begins a speech about how powerful the Eastern enemy has grown, about how these leaders can’t blame themselves for the invasion. They did all they could to stop the Eastland army, but the Prince of the East—with his stolenfire magick—drew Colden Moeshka out of hiding, a king surrendering to save his people from further destruction.
