I love them too.
"They would never hurt you," he says firmly. "I'm worried about the bond. During the eclipse my control frays. It will come for you. All those dreams you shared with him? They're real."
I recall the fevered dreams. The bond chasing me through shadow and catching me. Taking me with brutal possession and no restraint.
"Svenn, he's a part of you."
"I don't accept him," he confesses gravely. "He knows only hunger."
He's rejecting a piece of himself woven into his very being by the Rhunhraefn. How exhausting it must be, constantly at war with the parts of yourself you didn't choose.
"But don't worry."He pulls me closer. "I've been preparing for this."
I raise a brow.
"The dwarven prisoner has helped me forge chains strong enough to hold what I become,” he offers carefully.
I understand nowwhere he has been disappearing to. The hours unaccounted for and the secrecy.
"The forge?” I asks slowly. "That's where you've been going.”
His thumb traces my wrist, absent and careful. “Your knight Red—Garrett has found a place for me. I'll lock myself there when the eclipse begins and stay until it passes."
"Svenn—"
He pulls me closer. "Promise me you won't come looking for me during the eclipse. No matter what you feel through the bond."
I look at him. I see the fear he is trying to hold still in his face.
"I promise," I tell him.
He studies me for a moment then exhales and presses his lips to my temple. “Now, tell me why are you here, Rhianelle?"
I swallow nervously. My throat feels tight. "I needed information about the Hunt.”
"Did you get it?"
“Yes.” The words about Calanmai and the eclipse sit heavy on my tongue. I want to tell him but he is already carrying too much.
Svenn sits up. "We need to leave."
He is already moving. Through the door I can hear raised voices.
“Even if they don’t know who I am, they’ll want to question a fellow Nightwalker about the vampire working for Aelfheim,” he says.
“Svenn,”I catch his arm. “Don't hurt anyone from the Painted Moth. They're good people."
He gives me a look.Not a promise. But not a refusal either. I'll accept that.
I reachfor the mask on the chaise. Its silver filigree catches the candlelight delicately. I fasten it quickly over my face.
Let them look.
They will not see me. My hand goes to the invitation tucked against my ribs. It’s still there. I can't lose either of them. Without these, CalanMai is impossible.
We make it halfway down the corridor before the noise becomes clear.
Thorn stands at the end of the hall with three fae guards fanned out behind him. He’s trying to block them. “You cannot go. This establishment welcomes all guests. Even Nightwalkers.”
