Page 100 of The Bound Blood
“Lindsay.”
I stare at the ground. “A room.”
“Liiiiindsay.”
I wince. “Kael’s room.”
Her gasp is loud enough to scare a passing squirrel. “YOU WOKE UP IN THE SHADOW PRINCE’S LAIR?! AGAIN!”
“It’s not a lair, it’s a room?—”
“Oh please,” she says, flapping her hands. “Broody Magician of the Underworld absolutely has a lair. Continue.”
“I didn’t— I wasn’t— we weren’t— nothing happened,” I stammer. “He just… carried me. Because I fainted. And I guess he thought it would be safer there.”
Tamsin’s grin becomes unhinged. “So let me summarize! You and Prince Dangerhair teamed up to slay a veil creature, you closed an actual tear like some kind of chosen one, then you passed out and were swept into the arms of Kael the Broodfather, who whisked you to his cave of emotional repression and tucked you into bed like a dark guardian angel.”
I drop my face into my hands. “That is not—none of that—happened.”
“It is EXACTLY what happened,” she says triumphantly. And then, narrowing her eyes with predatory best-friend precision: “Start from the part where Kael showed up to save you all prince-like and then how he ended up carrying you. Slowly. And with vivid detail.”
THIRTY-SIX
AURON
I have spentmy entire life learning how to keep my face still.
Auron Draven does not flinch. Auron Draven does not betray emotion. Auron Draven does not let anyone see the seams.
It’s a useful skill now—because Lindsay Blake is laughter and wildfire and has absolutely no sense of self-preservation, and for the first time in a long time, I have to work not to show how she affects me.
She doesn’t trust me. Not yet at least. Which is probably valid.
But she’s beginning to—just enough to be dangerous for both of us.
She passed me earlier, still pale from the night before, Raiden shadowing her like a storm-cloud, Nolan reading while walking, which is its own hazard. And Tamsin was talking so fast I’m not even sure how they kept up. Then Lindsay smiled—soft and tired but real—at me. I think she’s starting to view me as more than just a Blood.
It shouldn’t matter.
It does.
And it shouldn’t bother me that Kael carried her back to his room after she collapsed. I shouldn’t care that she leaned onhim, trusted him, let him hold her. Not when I know the truth: I cannot be that for her.
Not while the binding spell curls under my skin like a brand waiting to ignite. Maybe if I knew her before the spell was put on me…
I shove the errant thought away. It’s a weakness. And I am not weak.
My fingers rise to my lower lip—a habit I hate. The magic there pulses faintly, warning me. Reminding me.
If I kiss her—if I even try—the bindings will rupture.
The truth will spill out of me like blood. And she will be the first to bleed for it.
My father’s voice hums through my memory, a snap of magic that feels like a whip.“The geas protects you from the prophecy, Auron. If it breaks, you break with it.”
But I’ve learned something he never accounted for, I don’t care about myself.
It’s not myself I’m afraid of breaking anymore.
