“So Sarrow is a realm.” I glance at the staff.
“Sarrow is many things. Most of which exist only in the fates.”
The Fae and their riddles.
My lips roll together as I consider everything I’ve learned—everything this Rite will do. “What exactly is a soul bind?”
He mentioned it when I first agreed to the ritual, but as the moment nears, I feel the need to know exactly what I’m agreeing to.
“Magic is a piece of our being—our very essence. The bond between magic and self is unbreakable. To lose one is to lose the other. As such, in order to bind your magic to another, you must bind your souls.”
“Does that mean you die if they die?”
“No, that would be a tie between lives. A binding of souls is greater than breath or blood. It is a promise of the eternal life and your existence within the fates.”
I’ll be forever bound to the king.
This isn’t as simple as saving a kingdom; I’m tethering myself to him eternally.
“It’s less complicated than it seems. I promise all will be well with me at your side.” His fingers caress the bottom of my chin, and I shiver.
Something warm swells up through my belly. Filling my chest as my heart starts to race. His heated gaze drinks me down. I can barely breathe or move. All I can do is continue to stare as if his gaze is a prison, and I’m trapped.
“We will be one soon, Elorie Vale.” King Malachi sweeps his thumb over my chin before releasing me. “Now let us make our promise.”
The moment the king steps back, my head rushes like I’m snapping out of a trance. As if the king had me in his hold, and now, I’m free-falling.
King Malachi raises the chalice to the room. At some point, everyone stopped dancing and turned to face us. But I didn’t notice them doing it. Even Callum is beside me, watching.
“To a vibrant, thriving kingdom.” Malachi brings the chalice to his lips and drinks as the room cheers.
He hands the chalice to me next. The liquid inside is the consistency of blood, but black. I can only imagine how it tastes.
I glance over at Callum and find him already watching me. He gives a single nod, and even though I’m angry with him, he’s the only one in this room I know.
Trust only him.
My father’s words whisper in my ear as I lift the chalice. The rim of the silver goblet is cool against my mouth. I’m about to tip it when the doors at the other end of the room swing open. They shake on their hinges as the liquid brushes my lips.
Something sweeps the air, making me pause.
It crackles like embers in a blossoming fire.
It has every hair standing on end. My skin is suddenly impossibly tight. The slightest shift of my dress makes me shiver.
I can taste the change in the air on my tongue.
Lightning.
Iron.
A spark.
The crowd parts, and I feel him before I see him.
Every bone in my body aches with this familiar tug. One that drew me through the darkness of death. Through nothingness.
Through the labyrinth of Alyssium’s prison until I found him and somehow saved us both.
