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Bram nods. “If she severed that, he would lose his light, which would alter his signature irrevocably.”
“She can break their bond voluntarily? Like divorce?”
Bram sends me a curt nod. “It doesn’t happen often in magickind, but it’s possible.”
Mating isn’t forever?
Shock rips through me as the ramifications burst through my brain. I turn to Marrok. He’s clearly worried…but not surprised. “You knew this?”
If ever a man looks as if he wants to lie, it’s Marrok. He hesitates, then catches Bram’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “Aye.”
My blood begins to boil. “When did you find out?”
“When you fell ill.”
Is he fucking kidding? “And all this time you neglected to tell me because…?”
Because he wants to bind me to him until he ends his curse. All his tenderness and caring, lies? The possibility is like a dagger to the chest. Deep down, I’ve feared he’s using me, that he doesn’t care about me. I let myself hope…
And I shouldn’t.
Marrok casts an uneasy glance at Lucan. “’Tis not the time for this argument.”
I want to disagree, but Lucan screams again, anguished and blood-curdling, his elbows thudding on the door, his knees banging the dash. The impact doesn’t slow him at all, as if the only torment he feels is inside.
“Fuck.” Bram rakes a hand through his hair. “His signature is nearly black.”
I can’t see it.
After another glance at Lucan, Bram shakes his head. “We’ve got to restrain him.”
“Restrain him?”
With a wretched howl, Lucan tears away his shirt, then begins to claw at his face. His cries sound so furious and anguished, the hair on my arms stands up straight.
“Before he kills himself. If his signature turns totally black, his soul may be lost forever.”
I suck in a breath. Sabelle said mating was the most powerful magic of all. She wasn’t kidding.
“I can’t hold him down.” And Marrok is behind Bram—too far away.
“You’re right. Talk to him. Soothe him with your female voice.” As I nod and lean forward, Bram grabs my wrist in a harsh grip. “Don’t touch him. He may try to, um…ravish or kill you.”
“Why?”
“He’s no longer in his right mind. When he realizes you’re female, he’ll assume you’re Anka, and try to reestablish the bond by force. If he’s gone feral, he’ll smell you and know you’re not his mate. He’ll perceive you as a threat.”
Holy shit.
Marrok takes my hand from Bram’s grip and holds it in his own. “Careful.”
With halting words, I begin to whisper to Lucan. “You’re okay. I’m here. Everything will be all right…”
He pauses, craning his head toward me, listening to my crooning. I think it’s working. My hope climbs.
Then he opens his eyes. His usually electric blue irises are nearly black.
I gasp. “Oh, my god.”
