“She’s not going to die,” I asserted.
As if I hadn’t spoken, he directed his response to his brother. “Allowing the person to linger gives false hope. We’ve seen many versions of this, and they all end the same. Such a peculiar form of cruelty.”
“I gave her time. That’s all she wanted.”
I was really trying hard not to be that person and point out that I wanted him to undo the curse, and this was the compromise he’d agreed to.
Since he was violating rules left and right and I’d witnessed the depth of their magic capabilities, I was desperate and emboldened enough to ask again. Undoing the curse would leave my favor with Jonah intact and prevent me having to ask the vampires to risk their immortality by being used as a conduit.
“I made that request,” I offered, making sure Cirrian knew I wasn’t particularly happy with the liberties he’d taken with the retelling.
“You were willing to grant my brother access to read your mind, and the means to compel your actions and control your magic for an endeavor that will ultimately fail?”
Great, the brothers share a familial cynicism and assholery.
Larkin frowned, seemingly unable to determine who deserved the brunt of his condemnation. He turned to face Cirrian. “This is cruel by any standard, and she doesn’t seem to deserve this. Make the collection, let her mourn, and release her.”
“No!” I demanded. Reeling from the information I’d learned about my bond with Cirrian, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, too afraid that the sight of him would fuel my rage to a point I wouldn’t be able to think clearly.
It took several beats for me to glance at Cirrian. The anger whirring within me was destined to be a tsunami of unfettered violence. He didn’t look afraid. He should have been. At the moment, I was a little afraid of myself. He was a liar and had disclosed none of the things the oath bind allowed him to do to me.
“I’m too close to abandon this. I need to save my friend. Give me the opportunity, please.”
The harsh, faintly amused god who had shown up at my door earlier had been replaced with a kind, considering one, who I trusted a hell of a lot more than the god I was bonded to.
“Cirrian should satisfy his deal, and I’d like the opportunity to do the same with my end of it.”
Larkin sighed. I followed his eyes to his brother. “Of course, there is something in this for him. On top of controlling this human, what do you get?” he asked Cirrian.
For the first time, the arrogant deity was displaying very human emotions, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what they were. Embarrassment? Maybe annoyance with a sliver of remorse. I suspected it was the discovery of the deception and not the deception itself that evoked his emotions.
“Kara is an ashinwa. The oath-binding was to seal her to her vow. There was no need to disclose its other uses.”
Larkin’s eyes widened. His mouth parted, but words didn’t readily come. Turning to face me, his eyes trailed over me as if he’d discovered a monster of myth. He whispered, “Ashinwa,” as he closed the distance between us. He loomed over me, leaning in, placing us nose to nose.
Um, can I get some personal space?
Even the warm notes of sandalwood that wafted off him weren’t calming enough to overlook the intensity burning in his eyes and his stifling presence. Shaking his head, he moved his head away. “She’s human.” He stepped back. “At most, a very weak witch.”
“She’s neither, Larkin. Use Uhyen to check.”
Larkin reached out to touch me but stopped mid-motion. “May I?”
“May you what?” His brother’s deception had put me in a mistrustful mood.
“Touch you,” he said. “To explore your magic. It will feel cool initially, but it shouldn’t hurt.”
I flung a glare at Cirrian. While I believed he was traumatizing me by pressing a blade into his neck like a deranged horror character, he’d been exploring my magic.
The brief glimpse of humanity he’d shown earlier had been reined in and packed away. In its place was the familiar insufferable arrogance.
Fixated on his brother and his myriad deceits, I gave Larkin a small nod when he cleared his throat, prompting me to answer his question.
Larkin’s touch was warmer than Cirrian’s, but the wintry magic that swirled around my arm was similar. It dug deeper, an icicle of probing. Cirrian clearly had a better handle on Uhyen,performing it effortlessly and nearly imperceptibly. Larkin wore the effort of the magic in the creases of his scowl.
When he finally removed his hand, his anger and frustration were gone. “You found one.”
“I did. She sealed the vow to release them with her life.”
