Page 75 of Twisted Bonds
“Maybe not,” he says, curling his fingers between mine. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry than old grudges, don’t we?”
“Grudges keep you sharp,” I counter, but there’s no heat in it. Bobble’s right—as infuriating as that often is.
“Or they dull your edge,” he shoots back, a glint of gold in his gaze. “Make you see enemies where there might be allies.”
“Cor’than’s no ally.” The words are a venomous growl, tasting bitter on my tongue.
Bobble just nuzzles my hand against his cheek, a small gesture that speaks louder than any lecture. I can’t forgive, but perhaps… I glance up at the Third, his presence a balm to the fury that simmers just below my skin.
“Perhaps,” I concede, and the word feels like the first step towards something terrifying and new. A risk, yes. But maybe, just maybe, also a chance to save our future.
A shiver runs down my spine from the shadows of memory that cling like cobwebs. Cor’than. Betrayer. Usurper. His name alone brings forth the specter of that night, when blood was spilled and familial bonds were severed. How can I contemplate allying with him again?
“We have to try this plan, Sunder. Maybe he betrays us. Maybe he doesn’t help us at all. Maybe he slaughters us on his doorstep. I don’t know. I can’t know. But I do know that this is our best chance. Yes, we could turn our back on the whole thing. We could walk away and live our short mortal lives together. Maybe that would be better. But we both know there’s too much at stake to not try. I want to live a thousand lives with her. With you. And this is our best chance. So even if we only have a few weeks left in this world, I want to spend them knowing that we did everything we could. And if we die in the process, we’ll die with our heads held high.”
Inside, I know he’s right. Untangling our fingers to hold my face, I let the truth seep into my soul.
Bobble’s right, again.
And I nod my head, knowing it’s what must be done. Now, I must accept it.
thirty-seven
Mira
In the morning, I push open the heavy, carved door to Tairyn’s study, my fingers tingling with a strange mix of curiosity and that gnawing apprehension that’s become my shadow since I tumbled headfirst into Illuemera. The room smells like aged paper and smoke from the perpetually burning fire, regardless of the time or weather.
My heart flutters in anticipation. We haven’t spoken since I practically bolted from his room last night after a somewhat abrupt dismissal. Something passed between us that I can’t quite explain, so why did he cut it short? And to follow it with such a curt note, I’m still bristling.
“Good of you to join me,” Tairyn says without looking up, his voice smooth as velvet yet edged with steel. He’s perched at his desk, surrounded by stacks of ancient tomes and scattered papers that scream of secrets and strategies only he comprehends.
“Not like I could resist such a romantic summons from you,” I quip, closing the door behind me. The note slipped under my door simply read: Come. “You don’t own me, Tairyn.”
His gaze cuts to mine, a fire of life and hunger twinkling behind them. “Interesting choice of words. Do you think of me owning you often?”
“Only when you call me like a dog.”
“But you’re here, aren’t you? My method was effective, if not quick.”
I grit my teeth, glaring at him under furrowed brows. “I’d come faster if you ask nicely.”
His eyes narrow to pinpoints, nostrils flaring. “Coming should never be rushed, nin anto anna.”
This time, the foreign words leave his lips like a caressing tease.
“Do you ever say anything without a hidden meaning or innuendo?” I snap, crossing my arms defensively across my chest just as his gaze drops there.
Tairyn’s smirk widens, and he leans back in his chair, fingers tapping out a rhythmic pattern on the tabletop. His eyes never leave me, the mischievous twinkle only fueling my annoyance. “Now where would be the fun in that?”
For a few long seconds, we’re in a stand-off, neither willing to break the silence first. I consider just walking away. Clearly, what he has to say isn’t that important if he’s just playing games, but then that’s not how he works, is it?
“Something on your mind?” I ask, not bothering to hide my annoyance while I cross the room with deliberate slowness. Each step is like a beat in a dance we’re both eager to perform.
“Many things,” he replies, his gaze tracking me with the precision of a hawk as he stands from his chair. “But your… fragrance is particularly distracting today.”
What does he smell on me? Sunder’s body? Bobble’s leather? I slept entangled between them last night, waking to take them both three different times.
A light turns on in my mind. Something to get under his skin, tease out some answers from him. This game between us, always skirting lines that I can’t quite gauge. I make a split second decision to use this to my advantage. I let out an exaggerated yawn as I stretch my arms high over my head. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly—not quite a grimace, a more involuntary reaction he didn’t quite manage to suppress.