“You have a husband,” Everly says. “It may be difficult for you to just disappear.”
One day, Iwilldisappear.
My throat tightens. The thought never made me so forlorn before.
Kassandra falls back against her mattress and sighs. “I want a husband. I want Luc.”
My stomach twists into a giant knot. If only I could give Kassandra what she wants.
Everly lies beside her sister. “We can be old spinsters together.” Her gaze moves to me. “The Kyanite can join us when she grows tired of Gabriel.”
“You think I’ll grow tired of him?” My thoughts shift to the other night. How he touched me and gave me such pleasure.
“He’s not much different than all the other men.”
Kassandra frowns. “Evie, that’s not true. Gabriel is the second best man I know.”
Everly rises enough to meet my gaze. “He has secrets, Sol. Has he told you?”
Kassandra snaps to sitting and glares at her sister. “Be silent, Everly.”
My attention jerks between them. “What secrets?”
Frustration tugs at Kassandra’s brow as she places her hand over her sister’s mouth. “He doesn’t have secrets.”
Everly pulls away her sister’s hand. “Do you even know what he did to your arm?”
“My arm?” I roll my right wrist over, staring down at that serpent mark.
“No, your binding tattoo.”
My breath hitches as I raise my arm and stare down at those brown lines, those swirls, those words I wouldn’t have understood if Alf didn’t tell me.
“What do you mean, Everly?”
A frown pinches at Kassandra’s mouth, but she doesn’t speak.
“This…” Everly brushes her fingertips along the engraving on my skin. “…is the ancient magical binding tattoo of the Bloodstone people.”
“Magical?” My throat turns dry. “But magic doesn’t work here,” I say, repeating what Kassandra told me.
A voice pierces my ears, a mocking voice—one that reminds me of what I did for Praxis.
I slam it away, not willing to give it a second thought. At least, not right now. Not when I cannot process everything at once.
“It won’t work,” Kassandra says with a frown. “So, I’m not sure why he chose that particular design.”
“He chose it?” I ask, needing to understand.
It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.
Kassandra nods.
“Ifit worked,” I ask slowly, “what would it do?”
“It would bind you to him,” Everly says. “Emotionally. Physically. You’d be incapable of ever looking at another man with lust. He’d feel the same way about you.”
Why would Gabriel pick such a design? When we first met, he loathed me, distrusted me, yet he was willing to do this?
