Page 83 of The Bound Blood
A heartbeat. Two.
She swallows, eyes flicking between Raiden’s glare and Nolan’s wide-eyed panic, before returning to me.
“It’s Lindsay,” she says quietly.
Her voice is steadier than she feels. Brave little spark.
Nolan glances at Raiden. Raiden glances back. A silent exchange. A mixture of protective, uncertain, and resigned. But neither of them speak.
I let her name settle on my tongue.
“Lindsay,” I repeat, tasting the shape of it, the cadence.
Names carry impressions—echoes. And hers stirs something old in the back of my mind. I tilt my head, studying her more closely.
“That’s a curious name,” I murmur.
She narrows her eyes. “It’s… common. Pretty normal, actually.”
“Mm,” I hum, smiling. “The sound of it is. But the resonance is not.”
Raiden tenses. Nolan goes very still. Time to prod—just a little.
“You know,” I continue softly, “there is an old fae tale… almost forgotten now.” I let my gaze drift thoughtfully up and down her form, not in hunger, but in analysis. “Of a mortal-borngirl who carried Veil resonance in her blood long before anyone understood how such a thing was possible.”
Her breath catches. So does Raiden’s. Nolan swallows hard, pushing up his glasses even though they haven’t slipped.
I smile, just enough to press at their nerves.
“She was said to walk between worlds,” I murmur, “able to sense fractures before they formed…and to steady them with nothing but her presence.”
Lindsay’s brows draw together. “That sounds like a myth.”
“Oh, it is.” I let the pause stretch. “Most myths are simply truths worn thin with time.”
Nolan blinks like I’ve hit him with a textbook. Raiden steps closer to her, hand flexing, eyes locked on me as if I’m a threat he can’t quantify.
Lindsay takes a step back—not out of fear, but out of instinct. Self-preservation made sharp by confusion. I incline my head slightly, lips curving.
“Your name reminds me of hers. That’s all,” I say lightly.
But that's not all.
Her Veil-mark hums. Her magic stirs at my words. Her presence warps the air like gravity bending around a star.
Something in her resonates with the story. Something old. Something dangerous. And she doesn’t even know it.
Not yet.
Raiden finally speaks, voice low. “Enough.”
I smile. “As you wish.”
Lindsay watches me with wide eyes—uncertain, unsettled, and deliciously unaware of her own significance.
“I’ll see you tonight, little mouse.”
THIRTY-ONE
