These Hollow Vows (These Hollow Vows, #1)(104)
He cups my face in his hands. “I heard her sing your name,” he whispers. “And all I could think was that the potion wouldn’t work, because we’re not bonded.”
I stiffen. “Humans have to be bonded to the fae to use the Potion of Life?”
He blows out a breath. “Whoever created the potion believed that humans might steal the magic if the bond wasn’t required.”
“I . . .” I just want to be me. To be enough for him without becoming a faerie. I never wanted to be fae. I didn’t think I’d ever want that. But with the sound of the Banshee’s voice in my head, the world looks a little different. “Bash, I’m scared.”
His eyes go shuttered. “Of the bond?”
Of what I need to do. Of losing you. Of the sound of my name on the Banshee’s lips. Of never having the chance to give you the bond you want so badly.
He doesn’t wait for an answer but settles back onto the pillows with me, stroking my arms and pulling me closer and closer. Reassuring us both.
When my heart rate returns to normal, I turn in his arms. “Tell me how it works, the bonding ceremony.”
He holds my gaze for a long time before he answers, and I get the impression that this conversation is a little heavier for him after hearing the Banshee. “The ceremony is elegant,” he finally says, “in the way that only what is pure can be. It begins with us selecting the rune that will symbolize our bond, and then I’d say some words and you’d repeat them.”
“Is there an audience?”
“Not typically, though my parents chose to perform theirs in front of a crowd in conjunction with their wedding vows.” He smiles. “I was five, and I remember being so embarrassed when they kissed and kissed, waiting for the bond to solidify.”
“You were five when your parents were married and bonded?”
His smile falls away. “My father always said it took him years to convince my mother he was worthy of her. Lately I’ve begun to sympathize with his plight.”
I nudge him with my elbow and almost smile. “Would you want an audience?”
“No. I’d want it to be just us, if only because we have to maintain a . . . a physical connection until the bond snaps into place.”
I bite my lip. “You mean sex?”
He grins and pinches my side. “Not necessarily. The magic demands a physical representation of the empathic bond. Some bonded pairs will simply hold hands, but when the connection is romantic, most couples let the intimacy of the moment guide them. The magic—it’s . . . intense. Powerful.”
“I hope someday I get to experience that.” I’m surprised by how much my feelings about being bonded have changed, but I mean it. I just want to be there with him—to be past everything else so I can. I might never have that. When I said I’d take tonight if it was all I could have, I meant it.
“It is my greatest wish.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Until then . . . stay close. I’ll protect you.”
He holds me tighter, and I realize he thinks I’m worried that death will come between us. Soon he’ll understand that my secrets will tear us apart faster than the threat of a Banshee call ever could.
* * *
I don’t close my eyes again. When I’m sure Sebastian is in a deep sleep, I slip out from under his arm and climb out of bed.
I pull on my silky pajama pants and the matching top my maids packed. Everything else they sent has a skirt, and I’ll need to be able to move as freely as possible.
Every time I close my eyes, I see that ghostly woman in her tattered white dress, her hair floating around her. Even with my eyes open, I hear her. The sound of my name in her voice is a macabre song stuck in my head.
Sebastian fell asleep holding me. He wants to protect me, but I can’t allow him to stay close enough to try. A ticking clock clangs in my head right alongside the Banshee’s song.
I know what I need to do, and I have never been more terrified.
Now more than ever, it’s tempting to put Jas’s fate in Sebastian’s hands. If he could get someone to kill Mordeus, his men would be able to retrieve Jas. I want to believe he can get it done—but now I know that the Seelie cannot harm the Unseelie, and too much time has passed for me to not act.
I hate that my actions might take Sebastian’s mother from him, but I feel no remorse over what my actions will do to the queen beyond her son’s grief. She tortures and enslaves an entire race of faeries. Her curse is the root cause of the sale and murder of countless humans, all because one male broke her heart. Sebastian will grieve, and for that I am sorry, but I know what I have to do.
I unwrap the mirror from my shadows, returning it to its solid form, and take it into my hand. “Show me Jasalyn.” I need to see her. I need the reminder of why I’m betraying Sebastian. Why I’m undoubtedly heading to my own death.
I see my sister laid out on a stone floor, her head lolling to the side in sleep, her lips chapped. I grip the mirror tighter, and the image ripples like a reflection in a pond. When it clears, it shows Jas tucked into a big bed. She’s sleeping on her side, draped in fluffy blankets, her arms curled around one pillow while her head rests on another.
Which image is real? Which can I trust?
Either way, I need that book. I tuck the mirror away and slip into the shadows to head to the library. If I’m lucky, I’ll be back before Sebastian wakes, and I’ll be able to pretend I didn’t have anything to do with the book’s disappearance. If I’m unlucky, I’ll understand the Banshee’s call soon enough.