Koryn’s eyes tracked the motion, but she did not protest or pull away. “What happened to him?”
My jaw worked beneath our joined hands.
“The king executed him,” I said.
Koryn’s eyes flared as her fingers tightened around my jaw.
“We will kill him together,” she said. I felt it for the vow that it was, as real as the Lifebind inked on our wrists.
Together.That’s what this moment was. Trapped in Balar Shan, at the Court of Lies, and in this caved-in room. But we were trapped together.
I wanted desperately to touch her. Her lips were right there, her body close enough that I could feel each breath. But this understanding between us was new, and fragile, and too precious for me to risk with impulsivity.
That did not mean I was going to let go of the hand she’d given me.
With my other, I reached over my shoulder and eased the bow from its sling. The string caught in my hair as I pulled it over my head, but I kept tugging until it was free, settling the bow in my lap atop the cylindrical quiver. Koryn’s eyes were on mine, though, as if she could not quite convince herself to look away. Gods, if she kissed me now, I’d stay in this collapsed cell forever.
A tingle of cold pricked the back of my neck. I ignored it.
The intensity between us built until Koryn finally tore her eyes away. She dropped her gaze to the bow in my lap. I was not disappointed. How could I be, after all that she had given me today?
“The bow was his,” I said as she stared down at it. She reached out a hand, but stopped short, curling her fingers suddenly. “An inheritance from his human mother. It is fae-made. Enchanted. It always finds its mark.”
Koryn’s head snapped up, her gaze finding mine. Her eyes were no longer soft. They were wide, disbelieving, almost panicked.
Her voice shook as she spoke. “Not fae-made. Witch-made.”
CHAPTER 34
KORYN
“I thought I knew every ancestor.”The words came out garbled, but it was the best I could do. My chin trembled; my arms shook. The only steady part of my entire body was my hand, where Garrick’s warm palm covered mine.
It could not be true. It was absolutely impossible. And yet, the truth was right there before me, in Garrick’s lap. How had I never noticed it was the same bow? Because I had not seen it in more than three hundred years, my mind reasoned. Garrick never took it off, except to sleep, and when he did, I was always more occupied by my baser needs.
Garrick’s hand tightened over mine. He pulled it down from his face and into the warmth of his lap. I was vaguely aware of the chill in my fingertips.
“Koryn, what are you saying?” Garrick said. His breath was warm, a caress against my cheek and throat, a sharp contrast with the cold in my skin and my soul. I shivered instantly.
I focused my attention on our joined hands and the warmth radiating there. My power was rising, but not as fast as before, not with Garrick holding me. I’d missed the connection between us.
The Dark God stirred up my power, stoked it, and taught me to wield it. Garrick gave me calm. His soul sang to mine. Together, they spoke to both sides of my soul. And in that moment, Garrick was exactly what I needed.
I was so tired of resisting.
It was his hand around mine that gave me the strength. I still trembled, but the words came out steadier than before:
“Three hundred years ago, I met my elder sister’s granddaughter at the edge of the Coven Lands. By the covenants, I should have killed her. Instead, I spared her life and enchanted her bow. For the last three hundred centuries, I have watched over her lineage as they left Velora one by one. I snuck away from my coven and cast spells to preserve them. I did everything in my power… including killing my sister witch.”
The ring of glowing turquoise light around Garrick’s pupils rippled as his eyes widened. He must have a thousand questions, but he asked none of them. He squeezed my hand tighter, held it against his chest. The rapid thump of his heartbeat against our joined hands seemed to echo until it filled the air around us.
My voice broke. “How?”
Garrick sighed, his whole chest moving. He carefully lowered our hands, not letting go. But with his other… he curled his fingers around the supple wooden lower limb and held the bow out to me.
It nearly broke me to reach for it. The graceful curves held too much meaning for both of us. The bow was the symbol of the first time I’d broken the covenants, of my defiance, and of my shame. My attempts—and failures—to redeem myself for what I’d done to my sister. For Garrick… he had loved the man who owned this bow. Loved him so much that he’d carried it for decades. It was a blink in my immortal life, but in his human one, it was unfailing devotion. And he offered it up to me.
I slid my hand around the bow, cupping the grip with my palm and rubbing the pads of my fingertips reverently over the woodgrain. I could feel the power vested in it. My power. Even now, it whispered to me.
