“That’s surprising,” Hewitt remarked. “Though not unwelcome.”
Deckard drew a hand along his jaw. “Is that supposed to happen?” he asked.
Evylin shrugged. “I know as much about Bonding as you,” she said. But her thoughts drifted back to the book Ilain had given her about the union of Warrior and Mage. She wondered if it explained the phenomenon. Was accessing your partner’s power expected of a Bonded couple? Suddenly, she felt careless for neglecting her studies.
After more than an hour of conversation, Thom departed. Hewitt said his goodnights, and Deckard released him back into the shadow wherein he would linger until summoned again. Suddenly, the room felt empty and quiet without the other men present. Deckard drifted across the room to where the saddlebags rested on the chest of drawers, his mood contemplative and somber.
Evylin knew he was uncomfortable with her choice to keep the Space Relic on her person. Ever since the morning, she’d noticed how he kept his distance. It felt wrong, this new chasm between them. She understood that it wasn’t a rejection of her—he was afraid of giving in to the pull of Space. Yet, itfeltlike a rejection.
Evylin had chosen to keep the Relic because she knew it would be best for Deckard. He needed to face this fear, to come to a place of peace with his magic despite how much he wished to be rid of it. And she knew that no matter how subconscious it was, if Deckard kept pulling away from her because of the Relic, he would eventually grow to resent her choice to carry it.
They readied for bed in tense silence. Deckard was pointedly careful not to touch her as they stood side by side at the drawers, changing into their nightclothes. After brushing out her hair,Evylin replaced the brush in her saddlebag, her fingers brushing the leather spine of the thin Bonding book still within.
At her side, Deckard methodically set out his clothes for the morning. Evylin watched him in her peripheral vision and withdrew the book. She passed her fingers over the embossed title. Guilt gnawed at her, reminding her that theyallhad reason to blame themselves for a part in Auden’s death. If she had studied this book, perhaps she could have helped prevent Deckard’s lapse in control.
“Jonn?” she whispered, eyes on the cover.
He turned, folding his trousers. “Yes?”
Evylin moved to sit on the bed, letting a deep sigh escape her. “I have a confession.”
He raised his brow.
Evylin bit her lip and held out the book. “Ilain gave this to me,” she explained, “when we Bonded. She told me that it was important. Yet, I’ve not read it.”
Carefully, Deckard stacked the trousers beneath his shirt and coat for the morning, then accepted the book. He examined its cover. “Attachments of the Soul,” he read aloud. “Why haven’t you read it?”
Evylin grimaced. “It isn’t my kind of book.”
“It’s nonfictional, then,” he remarked with amusement, thumbing the pages. “The print is quite small.”
“And it’s laborious writing.”
“Mm.” He met her gaze. “Are you asking me to read it?”
“No—I mean—” Evylin sighed again. “Ilain told me webothneed to read it, so yes, I suppose in a way I am, but...it’s more that I’m asking that youhelpme read it. I struggle to pay attention, but I believe it could help us. So I want to give it a try.”
Deckard smiled and handed the book back to her. “In that case,” he turned to the bed, pulled back the covers, adjusted the pillow, and sat down, “come here.”
Evylin raised her brow but obeyed, crawling over the blankets. “Are we to snuggle?” she teased.
“It will likely make the process easier,” he said, settling against the pillows. However, when Evylin joined him beneath the covers, she noticed that his frame immediately tightened at her nearness.
Evylin tried not to be disheartened.
Deckard cleared his throat and held a hand out for the book once more. “Let’s read it together,” he suggested.
“Are you going to tutor me?”
He chuckled tightly. “Should you like me to?”
Evylin lifted his arm to drape over her shoulders. She kissed his jaw, noting how sternly it was clamped shut. “Help me understand, husband,” she quipped.
Despite his tension, Deckard’s smile was genuine. He shook his head in amusement and opened the book. “In attaching the souls and creating a Bond,” he began, “we find Allore’s reflection in creation.”
Deckard’s warm voice swept over Evylin, and contentment built within her. He read the first paragraph, then stopped to consider it before restating it in his own words. At first, Evylin thought he was just doing it for her, but when he lamented not having a notebook to write out his thoughts, she realized reiterating the text was a means of understanding it better himself.
They didn’t read long, and Deckard remained tense for the entirety of it, but even as Evylin began to drift off while he read, she felt they’d made a reasonable effort. She already understood better than before. And together, she knew, they would glean all the information this burdensome book offered. Their Bond would be stronger than ever, and she would find a way to help Deckard control his magic.
