My fingers move to my chest, press gently against the spot where I feel the thread of connection, even now, with many miles of distance separating us. I think of how the bond feels when we’re together, alive and warm and full of joy. And I think of my magic, of the magnetic pull it feels toward him, even since that very first day, like it knew something of my fate that I didn’t, like it was trying to guide me to...
To my future?
My breath leaves me slowly.
If our bond fuses, it would be me choosing to become something new. Something different. And the idea doesn’t frighten me as much as I thought it would. Not when I think of him, of what we could have together. Not just more time, but more possibilities, more potential. Something that runs deeper than I ever thought possible.
Something that bonds us by blood, by every beat of our hearts.
I don’t have to decide today. I have as much time as I want. But deep inside my chest, the bond stirs faintly, and as I take a slow breath, I know the direction my heart is leaning.
And I’m tempted to let it lead the way.
THAT AFTERNOON, I’M CURLED UP on the couch with Isis, reading a book, when my mother steps into the sitting room, a few letters held in her hands. Immediately, I shoot upright on the couch, making Isis hiss in irritation when I bounce her on the cushion.
“Is there anything for me?” I ask, pulse skipping in anticipation.
My mother arches a dark brow at me, then begins shufflingthrough the letters. The moment she holds up a thick cream envelope, I launch off the couch to snatch it from her.
“Is that from the castle?” she asks as I snag it from her fingers.
I look down at the purple wax seal with a raven in the center. And on the front of the envelope is my name in Alina’s pretty handwriting.
“It’s from Alina,” I say as I pad back around the couch and sink onto the soft cushions.
My mother lets out a small sigh. “You girls have only been on holiday for a few days, and you’re already writing to each other.” As she walks behind the couch on her way to the kitchen, she pauses to stoop and press a kiss to the top of my head. “I hope these friendships follow you into adulthood,” she says softly, almost wistfully. “Goddess knows mine didn’t.” Then she continues into the kitchen.
I rip the envelope open without bothering to fetch the letter opener. Then I pull out the letter inside and begin to read.
Maeve,
Of course you can use the cottage; it’s yours whenever you want it. It’s quiet there in the winter—so quiet it’s easy to forget that life even exists outside its walls. That’s one of the reasons I love it so much.
The cottage is almost impossible to find, and the roads to get there will be snowed in at this time of year. Raelan can take you. He says he’ll meet you at the crossroads on Birchwind Road two days after Yule, at midday.
Take care of yourself. And take care of him too, if that’s what this is about. I’ll have many questions for you when we’re back at Coven Crest.
With love,
Alina
P.S. Firewood’s stacked in the shed out back. Don’t start storms indoors; I just fixed the water damage. —Raelan
My lips curl up into a slow smile. I wasn’t sure if Alina would be okay with me using the cottage, but I realize now I shouldn’t have worried.
I offer my hand to Isis, and she slithers up my chunky sweater to coil herself around my neck, her head resting in the dip of my throat. Then I rise from the couch and hurry up the stairs to my room, where I close the door before sitting down at my old desk beneath the window.
Afternoon sunlight streams in, golden and joyful despite the ice clinging to the windowpanes. I pull a fresh sheet of parchment from my desk, dip my quill into my inkwell, and begin to write.
Severin,
Meet me at the crossroads on Birchwind Road at midday two days after Yule. Pack for a short trip. You did say you trust me, right?
—Your Storm
When the ink dries, I fold the letter carefully, slip it into an envelope, and seal it with a small dab of wax. Then I hold it in my hands, and deep in my chest, the bond flickers.
It’s like I carry Severin with me wherever I go, or like I have my own personal fire flickering with warmth just beneath my sternum.
