Page 48 of Beneath the Veil of Tides
I reared back. “You didwhat?”
“I cursed myself.” He repeated slower, but he froze before he continued. “When you left to find Evelyn, I set the curse on myself in grief—bound to decay until I found the one person in this god's forsaken realm that loved me.”
“But you found me.”
His lips twitched downward. “But you do not love me anymore.”
Warmth spread behind my eyes as tears gathered, tracing silver trails along my lashes.
“And it wouldn’t be one of my curses if I didn’t make it even more challenging. This curse will only lift whenyourlove callsmytrue name, the one I’ve shared only with you.”
“Your unspoken name,” I murmured, and he nodded. “Just tell me what it is.”
“I can’t. I bound the name to the curse, too. Only when you speak it first can it safely escape my lips without destroying us both.”
“Us… both?”
Noctis reached for my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine, bringing it up to our faces. He traced the lines of my palm, and my stomach dropped, warmth spreading low.
“This scar,” he whispered in a low heated murmur. His words faltered as he stared at our joined hands, “is from our Blood Tie. My magic flows to you, as yours flows to me. Myheart belongs to you, as yours belongs to me. A vow made with the cleric Grinjuah in the Isles of Yul. I’d bleed a thousand times if it meant I got to be bound to you just once. Even when you forget, I’ll remember for both of us. You can sense me, too, if you search.”
The concealed truths Noctis seized while leaving me in the dark cut deep, as if he believed I wasn’t worthy of the information.
“Your secrets are becoming infuriating,” I snarled, but I left my hand in his, the contact somehow slightly calming my enraged nerves.
“This one isoursecret, though. One I have been hoping would come back to you all on its own. It’s different being told about such a bond versus remembering it for yourself.”
“But how did you hear my prayer before the tie? When you still ruled your realm?”
He chuckled, closing my hand into his and relishing in its gentleness. “Darling, some bonds are woven into fate. I was banished for loving you, even though the gods knew it was written in my destiny long before I was even born.”
“You cursed yourself knowing I was still alive… in the dungeons of the Ocean Mother.”
He paused. “You were so close to death. I could feel you. I cursed myself, because I wasn’t sure the Blood Tie alone would kill me if you perished. And the only way to kill a god is by drastic means. So, I cursed myself, in hopes I could follow you to the gates of death.”
“But I survived instead.”
“By the fates.”
“How can I save you? Save us?” I whispered, and a trembling fear wound its way through my core.
Not for myself. For Noctis. For what our fate would be if I failed. Perhaps we would be bound in death together. If the Blood Tie would take my life, his would be forfeit, too.
“Give it time. I’d bleed the ocean dry if it meant you’d look at me the way you used to.”
Corvenwald drew near, the Aetherkin entrance island visible as I stood atop the crow’s nest. Soft, undulating hills dressed the expanse, nestling cottages in the crooks of the velvety slopes. The scent of grass drifted in, cool and green, brushing against my senses like a memory I couldn’t quite place.
The closer we approached, the more dread settled in my bones. The Royal Vanguard knew of our mission, knowing exactly where the entrance to the Aetherkin Bound stood. I studied the ground, waiting for a gilded beast to shatter the world beneath innocent feet.
Zahara climbed the mast and shuffled to my side, her long braids pulled back in a silver clasp falling along her spine.
“You’ll know when they’re about to… break ground,” she assured. “The air smells and tastes like metal.”
“So, you can read my mind, too?” I muttered, dry amusement softening the sting. Zahara only looked over at me, eyes narrowing slightly as confusion flickered across her face.
“If only I had powers like that. Might make it easier to know who to trust, especially Laziel right now.” Zahara chuckled. “But no, I didn't read your mind. I can just tell when someone's not okay. And on my ship, you don't have to pretend to be.”
“Just a joke,” I chuckled uncomfortably, knowing that my life was a mass of pure chaos and uncertainty—anything but a joke.
