Blue eyes touched on him. “What has she done?”
Sean shook his head. He couldn’t even speak the words.
“Ah,” Cathaire said. “Well, distractions can’t last forever. You must face it.”
As he heaved himself to his feet, he said, “That’s what they keep saying.”
His trainer chuckled and held out his hand. After a quick wrist grasp and a peck on the temple, Cathaire gripped his shoulder. “’Tis a heavy burden you bear,Ashanta. A realm’s deliverance in yourhands. Lives lost in your name. A war fought for your blood. These are enough to muddle anyone’s head. But you are still just a man. Your heart beats the same as the rest of us. Listen to what it says.”Your heart guides your way, he added in Sign.
With that, Cathaire bid him goodbye. The silence when his footsteps faded wasn’t a true silence. The birds still chirped. The wind rustled the treetops. The stragglers on the training grounds still shouted and laughed, a reminder that Sean wasn’t alone.
Your heart guides your way.
Sean’s heart couldn’t have been more lost. Stuck with the legacy of a martyred ancestor. Living among people who believed him a Savior sent from their goddess. In love with a woman who’d betrayed him. Bound to a man who’d always hated him.
He laughed inwardly at the twisted way his prayers for somewhere to belong had been answered. If he’d known this would be the result, he never would have asked for such things. But there was a saying about that. Something about beggars and choosers.
For the millionth time, he thought of his mom. Grief and anger stirred—the profound sadness of missing her poisoned by the resentment of the mess she’d left. She would have advice for him now. She’d know exactly what to say.
Your heart guides your way.
If his heart was his guide, perhaps he should start listening. It had been warning him about Isobel from the very moment he laid eyes on her. He’d known something was off, but he’d ignored it in favor of the poisonous magic between them.
A stone’s throw of grass existed in the space between him and Isobel, but a thick nothing settled there instead.
You stole my soul.
He wanted to say it, to make her admit she’d done something wrong, but she never would. Mistakes made in fear weren’t calledmistakes. They were necessary evils. Inevitable.
Sean didn’t need to have the conversation to understand Bel believed she’d acted in his best interest. Her attempt to control theuncontrollable, however, had exacted a price he never would’ve agreed to pay.
He held his ground. Several more seconds passed before she made the first step, then the next, until she stood before him, her lips pulled tight at the corners.
He opened his mouth but had no idea what to say. Fury built like layers of oozing lava, and he knew if he said anything, he’d regret it. He turned to leave.
“Sean, wait!”
He paused mid-step.
“Please.” Her voice caught, and her acidic hand snaked around his elbow, gently tugging him back. “I’m—I’m sorry, okay? But I did it for you.”
Pulling himself free, he hissed, “You poisoned me.”
She flinched—whether from his cold tone or his words, he couldn’t tell. “The bond isn’tpoison.”
“Davidis poison, Isobel.” Even saying the words brought an icy sense of guilt, like speaking ill of a good friend. How had he not noticed this new pulsing attachment, as if David represented something to be cherished?
Bel’s eyes turned glassy. “This will save your life.”
That fucking Sending.
She’d done this because of a prophecy, and he couldn’t even gather the strength to read it. He didn’t want to read it.
Because it wasn’t true!
But how much longer could he put this off?
Deep inside, blocks of ice stacked themselves one by one, imprisoning all the shards of hot anger that wanted to slice their way out. The part that wanted to rant and scream fell silent behind a wall of frost. He grew preternaturally still, and his voice went dark. “I value my soul more than my life.”
