Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Another wave of pain, this one less intense, but it leaves an ache. How badly is he hurt? Will he be okay? I stomp down those questions. He betrayed me. “How do I make—” I gasp. “Make it stop.”
“The bond?” Misha shakes his head. “You can learn to mute what you’re receiving from him, but it will still be there when you let your guard down.”
I need you I need you I need you I need you.
I press my palms to the sides of my head. He’s there—not in words, but in this echo of feeling.
“He knows you’re tuned in to him,” Misha says. “He feels it, and he’s trying to communicate.”
I love you I love you I love you I love you.
Despair is a blow to my chest, his mingling with mine, and I slump against it. I grip the wooden bedpost to pull myself off the floor. “How does this bond work?” I ask. I’m a fool for not asking more questions before I accepted it. A fool for trusting a faerie.
Misha arches a brow and studies me. “It’s a connection,” he says. “An awareness.”
“Does he know my thoughts?” I love you I love you I love you I love you. I need you I need you I need you I need you.
“Not exactly.” He tilts his head to the side and studies the ceiling thoughtfully. “It’s more like an impression. A strong empathic connection between the two of you. So if what you’re feeling translates strongly into a word or a phrase, he might get the impression of that word or phrase. But usually it’s more of a feeling.”
“How do we undo it?”
Misha chokes out a laugh. “It’s a soul bond, girl. You can’t take it back.”
“Surely there must be some way.”
“Perhaps, but it’s costly and painful and requires the full cooperation of both parties. You each have to choose to release the other. There’s a ritual that requires many of our sacred fire gems—the one around your neck wouldn’t get you close—and I’m told it’s as excruciating as the Potion of Life.”
My muscles lock up at the memory of the Potion of Life and the agony it wrought on my body. I don’t know if I could go through that again, but maybe there’s another way. The bond isn’t the same between a faerie and a human. If I could transform back into a human somehow . . .
“The only cure for immortality is death. There’s no reverse Potion of Life. Not anymore. Though it might surprise you to learn that you’re not the first to desire such a thing.”
I glare at him and his intrusive mind reading. “Tell me how to mute this bond.”
He tilts his head to the side. “For you, the problem goes deeper than the bond. It’s much more than being aware of your lover boy’s feelings.”
“Don’t call him that.”
“My point,” he says, ignoring my objection, “is that blocking him won’t free you from him.”
“Help me shut him out.”
Misha shakes his head. “It takes practice, fortitude, and empathic strength. You’re too weak for any of that at the moment.”
“Can you help me or not?” I snap.
“There’s no instant fix. Bathe, drink the tonic, and rest. The reprieve of sleep is the best I can offer in your current condition. I’ll see you when you wake.” He retreats to the hall, and I glare at his back until he closes the door behind him.
But slowly the pain fades. The echo of Sebastian in my head fades. He’s still there—always there—but quieter now.
Holly helps me into the bath, then leaves me. The warm water smells like fresh lavender, and my sore muscles slowly uncoil as I wash off the sweat and dirt from my capture and escape. The morning birds call outside the window and the water grows cool as the sun climbs above the horizon. All the while, I ignore the way this bond makes it feel as if Sebastian’s in the room watching me. Ignore the relief that washes over me when his pain subsides and his emotions settle.
He’s okay. He’ll survive.
Only once the last of the heat has seeped from the bathwater do I climb out of the tub and dry myself. A fresh sleeping gown waits on the foot of my bed, and I pull it over my head and crawl under the soft covers, curling onto my side.
I feel him in my mind, cradling me, holding me close. I want to shrug him off, but I don’t know how. I can’t deny that in this moment, while I weave in and out of sleep, my mind clinging to worry for the male I loved, there’s a comfort to this bond.
I drift off, wondering if he knows where I am. Wondering why he would care at all now that he has the crown.