“That doesn’t sound like you.” My voice was sharp, but I couldn’t deny the pull he had on me. I wanted to be soothed, consumed by him, but I forced a step back. “It’s false,” I said. “Whatever wethinkwe feel for one another—that burst of warmth we feel in our stomach when we touch—it’s a trick of the bond. I am everything you said I was. Fearful, and irresponsible, and you should give mewhat I deserve. Don’t let the bond make you neglect to show me the same penalty you would any subject who caused harm to your people.”
His gaze was impossibly dark, brows low, jaw severely set. “You want me to blame you? To punish you?”
My chest tightened. “Yes,” I whispered.
He swallowed hard. “I blameNemea,” he said, voice dangerous. “It’s Nemea who has used you since you were a child. Nemea who knew what you were and carved fear into you. He bent you into the shape he desired. And even after all that mistreatment you did not break. In spite of him, you are alive. I’d wager you are braver and fiercer than any Great God or Goddess ever was.” His own voice had risen, and it boomed through the little hut, but he caught himself and stilled. His gaze cut straight through me. A slow breath pushed through his lips. One step, another, and he closed the little space between us once more. He spoke softly now, with awe in his voice, in his gaze, as if he were uttering a prayer. “You are peerless.”
Amid the heaviness of my guilt and shame and terror, for a moment, he made me feel weightless. “No, I’m not—”
“I won’t argue with you, Imogen.” Theodore reached up and, so slowly, wrapped an arm around my waist. “Not tonight.” His other arm encircled my shoulders and then he pressed my body to his.
A shaky exhale fell through my lips. I clung to him, willing my heart to slow. “Can the Mage Seer sever both bonds? Ours and the one I share with Eusia?”
After a long beat, he nodded. “We’ll ride all day tomorrow. I’ll get you there as fast as I can.” His hand drifted up and down my back, fingers playing through my ratty braid. I let myself soften against him, let my head rest fully on his strong shoulder. A breathy, longing sound rose in me, and I couldn’t tell if the resplendent heatflooding through my center was our bond or my desire. I looked up, noted the nearness of his lips, how hard and hot and inviting he was.
Our breaths slowed and knit together between us, and then with a final, remorseful exhale, Theodore released me. He took a deliberate step back. Color had bloomed on his cheekbones; his mouth was soft and parted. He adjusted his shirt and gestured to the little bedstead in the corner. “You need to get some sleep, Imogen.”
I looked to the bed, then back at Theodore. It was comfort I wanted. Oblivion, distraction. I wanted to lose myself in him, wanted to let him burn away the scourge of despair that grew within me. The feel of his body still lingered over my own. I opened my mouth, the request just forming on my tongue:Come with me. I am weary and empty, and you can make it right.
But I stopped myself.
He stared at me with unreadable intensity, and the thought of him seeing me as some desire-riddled creature, unable to control myself after a night as awful as this one.You are peerless,he’d said. I couldn’t stomach him thinking less of me again.
My gaze dropped to the ground between us. “Good night.”
There was a tense, drawn-out silence. He gave a curt nod, took a cushion from the bedstead, and settled himself before the little hearth, curled up on his side. “Night.”
A pit tore through my stomach as I crawled into the pillows and blankets. It gnawed and grew, and I wished I had a vial of nepenthe. I wished I’d dragged Theodore into the bed with me by his collar. I stared up at the ceiling, listening to his breathing.
It was a long while before either of us fell asleep.
With our horses at a gallop, we devoured the rest of the journey in two full days.
Night had fallen hours before we finally reached the northern shore of Varya and the cluster of little rocky islands on its coastline. A stormy gust clawed through my hair. Cold drops of rain began to prick at my cheeks. Even knowing the pain that awaited me, I was eased to have finally arrived.
Aching, I dismounted and made my way over the black sand beach, toward the glowing, foamy shoreline. A narrow strip of water separated the little islands—the Sacred Holms—from the rest of Varya. On the largest and closest holm, dark against the storm clouds, stood a tiny shack.
“How do we cross?” I asked Theodore, who rummaged through saddlebags at the tree line behind me.
“She pulls back the water.” He sounded oddly hollow.
“How long will that take her?” Now that I stood within sight of the hut, the anticipation was too much. “How will she know we’re here in the dark?”
“We’re not going in until sunrise.”
“Why not?”
“Because I refuse.” His words cut like a whistling axe. He’d gone still beside the tree that the horses were tied to, and though the details of his face were lost to the night, I could imagine his glower. Could picture the unease tugging on his every muscle through the cool air and rain.
“You refuse.” I crossed over the black sand, wanting to look into his eyes. “You raced me here for two full days, only to have me sit on this beach, and wait for the sun to rise?”
“The Mage Seer is dangerous. We’ll wait for the added safety of the sun.”
It was a kingly command, but I knew him well enough now tonote the fear in his voice, to see that the rigidity of his body did not come from a full day in the saddle but from something worse.
“What can she do to me by night that she can’t do to me by day?” I closed the rest of the space between us. “I suffer either way. It’s you who doesn’t want to enter her hut now. Tell me why.”
The only sounds were the tapping rain, the crashing waves. They drowned out his heavy breaths. Drops fell into my eyes, trickled down my neck.
