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“I don’t, either. It’s why we need to solve this quickly.”

His brows lowered as he looked at me. “I worry about what she did to you in the cabin. I fear she’ll try to do it again.”

Tavik let out an anguished sound as if he, too, was afraid of this. I swallowed hard. “I’ll be careful. It’s why I need you there with me. Will you help me?”

“Yes, captain.” Reid dipped his chin, acknowledging my superiority.

“Good. I need to speak with Dulsa and I’ll meet you in the dungeon.”

I touched his shoulder before I turned and left the barracks. A sinking feeling overcame me. Reid was my closest friend, and I hadn’t told him about my new position. I wasn’t even sure how to tell him. I hadn’t quite processed it myself.

Perhaps it didn’t matter. Soon, he and everyone else would know I was to be their king. And as such, the camaraderie between us would be forever altered. It wouldn’t be the same. The thought made my chest cave inward, leaving nothing but a hollow chasm in its place.

The healer’s quarters were a small building next to the barracks. Dulsa had insisted on having her own apothecary that was separate from the castle so commoners wouldn’t be too intimidated to see her.

When I reached her quarters, I knocked rapidly on the door. I crossed my arms, my teeth grinding together as I waited impatiently.

Loud footsteps drew closer. The heavy wooden door swung open, and Dulsa peered at me with curious golden eyes. Her skin was a shade darker than mine and covered in wrinkles. Her silver locks were tied into a knot at the nape of her neck. “Captain Navier?”

“I just need a moment of your time, Dulsa,” I said, trying to temper the desperation rising inside me.

She seemed to sense I was unwell, for she stood back and immediately let me inside. I strode into the apothecary where a matching set of worn armchairs rested. Against the wall was a bookshelf and a long, narrow table with several jars of herbs on it.

“Please sit,” Dulsa gestured to one of the chairs.

I wanted to pace, to flex my arms, to move. But Dulsa, with her weathered skin and stooped back, looked like she preferred to sit, and I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. We both sank onto the chairs. She fixed a sharp gaze on me. Though she was quite old—over two hundred years—her eyes were as shrewd as a hawk’s. Which was appropriate, since she was a member of the Rabe tribe and could shift to a raven at will.

“What can I do for you, captain?” she asked, folding her hands together on her lap.

Where did I begin? As quickly as I could, I filled her in on the strange encounter with Cerise and how Tavik was still affected by it, even now.

When I finished, I asked her, “Is there anything I can do? Is this anything you’ve heard of before?”

Dulsa rubbed her chin, her eyes narrowed in concentration. “Perhaps,” she said slowly, before rising from her seat and moving to the bookshelf against the wall. For several moments, she sifted through tomes while muttering under her breath. I watched her, my insides roiling with intensity. What was she doing?

I was so desperate for answers that I felt ready to scream.

“Here it is.” Dulsa tugged a thin volume off the shelf. It had a red leather cover that was worn and peeling in several places. After returning to her seat, she flipped through a few pages before handing the book to me.

“Why can’t she just tell you?” Tavik grumbled, and I had to agree with him.

Dulsa pointed to a paragraph on the page, and I began to read.

It is said that when Lunaria the Moon Goddess lost her love, she ripped out her heart and broke it in two. With one half, she brought him back to life, keeping the other for herself. From then on, the two souls were forever linked together. Two halves of the same heart. Soulbound.

I looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. “Keep reading,” she instructed.

Today, Soulbound Mages are rare, but they do still exist. Their souls and hearts are linked for eternity. The animal counterpart of the Mage is often the first to recognize the bond.

I blinked and read the last sentence several times, heart racing. Within me, Tavik became restless, his consciousness quivering inside me. I didn’t know much about the Soulbound lore—only from stories I’d been told as a child. But everyone knew that kind of magic had died long ago.

“Dulsa,” I said quietly, “what exactly are you suggesting?”

“I am merely showing you the first thing that came to mind when you described the connection to me.” She crossed one leg over the other. “Your wolf recognized it first. You feel connected to her. Drawn to her.”

“I—but—she’s not a Mage!” I sputtered.

“No,” Tavik muttered. “No. It cannot be true. It cannot.”