He flinched. Actually flinched.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said sharply. “Do you think I want my soul staining yours?”
“I’ve killed too, remember,” she said, as her hands knotted in her lap. “Do you judge me for it?”
He looked horrified. “What? No! Of course I don’t–”
“Then why,” she demanded, rising to her feet, “do you think your soul is stained, when you won’t call mine the same? You give me grace that you won’t give yourself. I know your soul. It’s good. Strong. And I’d be honoured to bind mine to it.”
There. I said it.
“Kara, you can’t mean–” He stood abruptly, moving as far away from her as he could get in the small room. “You’re wrong. You only think like this because of what you’ve been through.”
She shook her head fiercely. “No, that’s not true.” Kara stepped towards him, steady and sure. “And the Arcanth only answers a Soulbond. We can’t unite the Shards without–”
Sebastian cut over her. “I don’t care! I don’t care about whateverdutyFatàn think we have.” His voice broke. “I’m wanted for execution, Kara. We’re marching towards a war against Draknor that I don’t expect to survive. And when I fall – when, not if – your soul breaks with me. How is condemning you to that love? It’s the most selfish thing I could ever do. You’d be destroyed. Forever. There’s no healing from losing a bondmate–”
“But this isn’t just about us,” she interrupted. “Uniting the Shards gives us a fighting chance. Without the Arcanth united Draknor will win. I’ll die anyway. They’ll kill all of us. I can’t let that happen. I won’t lose you, Sebastian. The Soulbond doesn’t damn me, it’s the only thing that might keep us alive. That’smychoice.”
He closed his eyes at her words, his knuckles turning white where he gripped the table. The gashes on them from last night split slightly – deep, painful. She wanted to heal them but something told her it wasn’t the time to offer. He looked up at her. It seemed like he wanted to argue, but nothing came out. The little house fell quiet. Herfather’s voice came back to her, warning her about Soulbonds. It felt like a lifetime ago:
You don’t share your life, you surrender it.
She inhaled deeply and repeated the same words she had said to him, only now with Sebastian before her, and the weight of her love behind them.
“I would like the chance to make the choice for myself.” She took another step towards him. “And I choose yes. I choose you. Not because of fire, or prophecy, or duty. Because I want you. Always.”
His eyes softened. She could see he wanted to believe her, wanted to accept the certainty she offered. But the doubt and fear snapped back in place, quick and defensive, like armour.
“You know a Soulbond is irreversible?” he asked.
Kara’s mouth curved, half-smile, half-challenge. “Well yes. The name does imply that.” She closed the distance and took his hand. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
“What if we try and your soul rejects mine?” he asked, his gaze burning. “Or you change your mind one day – realise you made a mistake with no way out?”
“It won’t,” she assured him. “I won’t.”
“You can’tknowthat!” He pulled away from her, crimson crackling. “No one can know that about forever!”
“Then bond with me,” she said fiercely. “You want to know if I’m certain? That my feelings will last? Once we’re bonded, you’ll feel it. You’ll know, beyond any doubt, that this isreal.”
“Kara–”
“I mean it–” She grabbed his hand again, tighter this time. “–I’m not going anywhere. You’re mine, Sebastian. And I’m yours.”
Then the thought hit her. If he doubted her that much, if he couldn’t see how completely she belonged to him... maybe this wasn’t about the bond at all. Maybe it was about her.
Maybe he doesn’t want to be tied to me forever. Isn’t sure he’ll still want me in a month, or a year. Maybe he’s making excuses.
She let go of him, moved away half a step subconsciously. “Unless...” She hesitated but forced the words out anyway. She had to know. “Unless it’s me you’re unsure of. Your feelings about me? Is that it? Is that why you don’t–”
“Gods, Kara, no!” Crimson erupted up his arms as he caught her face in his hands. “Don’t you ever think that.” He stroked her cheekswith his thumbs. “I would have chosen you at the Arcalon,” he said roughly. “I wanted to. I tried to. But you pulled away. Got engaged.”
Her breath caught, remembering. She hadn’t wanted to. She’d wanted him.
“If you’d asked me that night by the apple trees, before all this, I’d have taken you to Thorne,” he told her, his gaze all fire and ice. “Demanded my father let you stay, tradition be damned. I’d have fought all of Hale if I’d had to. Even when I had no right to. I should have told you then.”
I wish you had.
