“You make me nervous,” I admitted, surprised by the effortlessness with which I could voice my vulnerabilities to the woman.
She parted her lips but said nothing.
“I worry I’ll say the wrong thing.” I unwrapped the cloth at her wrist. “Or that I’ll scare you off. I don’t understand any of this, yet I know in my soul that you mean something to me. Something draws me back to you, despite the pressure of outside forces, of obligations.”
The wraps fell to the ground, and I traced my thumb across the black markings of the tattoo. “I know I’m a monster, and I don’t blame you for being bitter about the situation I’ve placed you in, both with—” I hadn’t placed her in danger, though. I had told her to return to the festival, not to follow me into the corridor that night. But the details didn’t matter. What she had become a part of was not something she deserved. “What with what you witnessed in the castle, and for this, if the magic that caused it was somehow my doing.” I traced my thumb over the designs of the marking.
Hesitantly, I intertwined the fingers of my left hand with hers and drew our hands between us. My cloak bunched, revealing my own markings. “Please tell me what it means.”
“It is old magic.” Her voice broke, and her eyes left mine to linger with a sadness at our shared designs. “If I tell you, I—”
A voice spoke out from across the room.
Fingers still interlocked, we turned our gazes in unison.
Evera gasped. “Leighis.”
An old man stood from his chair. I hadn’t even noticed him. Gods, was my perception truly so skewed?
He stepped forward, and though Evera flinched, she didn’t move to him immediately. Something caused her to hesitate. Then I sensed it as I had in the pasture—through the connection. This time, the emotion was sharp, dark, and seeping.Fear.
“Do I scare you?” I asked under my breath so only she could hear.
She raised her eyes to mine and shook her head, opening her mouth to speak. She never got the chance.
The old man spoke, awe lacing his voice. “The marks of a bond. You both wear the marks of the bond.”
17
EVERA
Neirin’s question held me.Do I scare you?And it wasn’t just the question, but the hurt in his eyes when he asked it.
“I’m not scared of you,” I said, my voice quiet.
A breath escaped his parted lips. My heart fumbled in my chest, and I couldn’t look away. There was such depth to him, such pain. I wanted to take his sadness away.
The steps creaked, and the moment broke as I realized Leighis was making his way across the room to join us. I left Neirin to rush to my mentor’s side. Though I tried to coax him to a chair along the railing near to us, the old man brushed me off and stepped to the table, standing before the silver-haired guard. My mentor held his hand out, and Neirin offered his arm.
Closing my eyes, I focused on the movement of air into my lungs, letting the relaxing technique calm my unease. Why didn’t I want Neirin to know what I was to him? Was it only that I feared he would suddenly feel he had a claim to me? When I opened my eyes again, I looked upon the man, and a hollowness numbed me. No, his knowing would make no difference. What did it matter if he believed he had a claim on me, or if Ruairc did? I was property either way. Unexpectedly, tears fogged my vision. The scents of our family shop, the familiarity of the study,all the things I held dear to me—how quickly they could be taken away.
“The marks of a bond,” Neirin said, his tone hesitant. Heavy, even.
I blinked and refocused myself. This was not the place to be emotional.
Neirin’s brows drew together, and for a moment I saw in him the same expression he’d borne in the pasture. A frustration, a lack of understanding of self.
Wetting his lips, he turned his gaze to me. “What does it mean?”
Leighis ran his fingers over Neirin’s markings, tracing the intricate design. “It is a bonding tattoo,rare and ancient magic. You don’t know this?”
Shaking his head, Neirin frowned. “I woke with it.”
The old man grinned. “You didn’t wake with it,” he said. “You only just discovered it when you woke. The tattoos formduring.”
Oh gods.My face flushed.
“During …” The corners of Neirin’s lips turned down, and the crease between his already drawn brows deepened.
