Page 91 of Twisted Bonds
“What happened to him?” Mira asks, genuinely curious.
Cor’than gives a half shrug. “I only know rumors of rumors, as this was all well before my time. The common themes of the story suggest his wife, who was not his mate, fell ill. After her death, he became a recluse, throwing himself into his studies and occasionally returning to court to rave about soul magic and forcibly binding souls to new bodies like a lunatic. He was exiled, but perhaps they should have paid more attention to his threats.”
“So you believe us then? About what he’s planning?” her voice is eager but earnest.
He peers at her over his long nose like an elder about to chide a rude child. “My dear, I don’t know what to believe at this point. Scouts are searching for evidence of his supposed following. For now, all I can do is wait.”
Later, as I wander down the opulent hallway toward the room I requested to myself, the bustling crowd of people never ceases. Servants, guards, nobles, and everyone in between seem to buzz about the palace like a beehive readying itself for war. Perhaps that’s what is happening.
I take a seat in the grand foyer on a small iron bench to see if I can identify a pattern of their comings and goings. I’m so engrossed with the task that I catch her scent before I notice that Mira has taken the seat next to me.
“I thought you went to bed hours ago,” I say with confusion, losing track of my count of servants wearing the red royal sigil entering a specific door beneath the main staircase.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Mira admits. Her eyes are on her hands, twisted together in her lap.
I watch as she pulls at the skin beside her thumbs, frowns and then forces herself to stop. When she looks up, those hazel eyes of hers are soft. They’ve always been soft, gentle in a way that’s hard to describe. Like how the sky looks after a storm, when the gray clouds part to reveal rays of sunlight breaking through.
Smiling, I try to lighten the mood. “Insomnia club, huh? We should get jackets.”
Her laughter is a victory. “Maybe,” she agrees, settling back against the bench with a sigh. “What are you doing out here?”
“Counting,” I answer honestly, pointing towards the door I’d been watching.
Her eyes widen with a hint of excitement. “Do you think it’s something important? Something we should check out?”
Sometimes, because I’m quiet, I think people assume I’m thinking great, deep thoughts full of philosophical musing. And sometimes I am. But sometimes I just doing something stupid. Like counting people. Mira listens to both types of thoughts with interest and without judgement. It's one of the things I really love about her. I can just be myself.
“Could be.” I shrug. “Or it could be the royal pantry. So what’s keeping you up? Surely those two could wear you out enough.”
I mean it as a joke, but the bitterness in my voice twists into something combative and hideous. Immediately, I hate myself for it and groan internally. She seems to stiffen at my words, looking away and chewing on her bottom lip. I can tell that my jab hit a little too close to home, and instead of the laughter I had hoped for, her face is a mask of hurt.
She looks at me, a frown marring her brow. “Why do you always do that?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just-”
Broken. Hideous. Unworthy. Jealous.
“It’s okay, Callum,” she reassures me, but I can see the shadow of hurt behind her gaze. “I know you’re worried about everything.”
That’s one way of putting it, I guess. Worried about everything. It's a light way of describing the torrent of feelings that threaten to engulf me every time I look at her. Every time Sunder or Bobble touches her affectionately or whisper sweet words in her ear. The silence between us becomes a chasm. I scramble to find the right words to bridge it, but they escape me. So instead, I simply grab her hand in mine.
Our fingers intertwine like vines, our hands fitting together like puzzle pieces, as if they were always meant to be united. A contented sigh falls between us as we enjoy the quiet moment together, despite the scurrying chaos around us.
“There’s another human in the city. Bobble and I are trying to find her while we wait for Cor’than to make up his mind about helping us.”
“So that’s where you two went today.” She gives me a sidelong glance. “I saw you leaving the grounds.”
I don’t tell her that they walked past me without noticing or the deep rejection I’ve been feeling. No need to make her feel worse than she already does. My stupid tone does enough of that for me. Mira’s fingers squeeze mine gently, and for a moment I let myself live in the simple warmth of that touch. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Her words pull at something deep within me. A longing so desperate it steals my breath away. And for a second, I want nothing more than to reassure her. To tell her that, despite everything, all of my twisted feelings and fears, I would never leave her.
“I’ll always be here, even if you don’t need me,” I promise with a whisper.
Her eyes flicker with something I can’t decipher, surprise or sadness, I’m not sure. “I think you underestimate how much I need you,” she admits. Her voice is a faint whisper, echoing my own. She tugs at my hand, pulling me from my thoughts and to my feet.
“Should we check out that door?” she asks, pointing at the door beneath the staircase with a mischievous grin splitting her cheeks.
I grin back, ready to be shooed out of the royal kitchen with her, but I’m happy as long as she’s happy.