Page 31 of Bonded

“Well, I hope you find her,” I offer, “and if I ever get out, maybe I can help you look.”

His red eyes meet mine. “Deal. I’m going to hold you to that. And now, how about you? Any great loves to tell me about to pass the time?”

I shake my head. “One or two lovers but nothing serious. Anyone that looked at me saw only a chance of getting close to the alpha and now anyone that looks at me just sees a murderer.”

“I don’t see that,” he replies, and I know he is trying to make me feel better, but it won’t work. “Before you say that I don’t know you, I do in a way. I’ve watched every interaction and seen how much you are cared for. I think you’re a good person and I don’t think you would have killed him unless there was a really good reason. In my opinion, the alphas, they’re cruel bastards, the lot of them.”

“Yes, they are,” I offer. “I could do with a friend while I’m down here.”

“Now you have one.” He winks. “I’m not used to things like this. What would you call these?”

He holds up one little cake covered in icing with a cream-hidden tip.

“They’re called fancies. Though I have no idea why anyone calls them fancies at all. Probably because they’re delicious, and I could eat like twenty of them.”

“It’s far better than the grub they feed us guards at the palace and here.”

He pops it into his mouth and groans, making me laugh. I realise it’s the first time I’ve laughed with a shifter— a friend. I make a plan for my future right here and now: that I’m going to help him find his human and get his happy ending.

Chapter Eighteen

Istare at myself in the mirror, ignoring the rows of short dresses that Illyia somehow managed to find in this place. I have chosen one with a floor-length skirt and a lacy top that covers all my burns right down to my wrists. There’s a long slit up one side of the skirt, but even as I move, you can’t quite see the burns on me.

Illyia knocks once, popping her head around my door. “Did you choose?” I nod and wave at my skirt and top. “I like it. You look really nice!”

I smile at her. Illyia is wearing a short, tight red dress with a halter neck, showing off so much skin, and I only wish I could do that. Her eyes soften as she reads my expression. “You do know you’re beautiful. The burns…” She shrugs her shoulders. “I have two moles on my ass that I think look awful, but not one man has cared. I don’t know what your burns look like to you, but you know it doesn’t matter to them? Tannith said you didn’t date because you never found someone to be interested in, but if it is because you’re scared of anyone seeing you, don’t be. Take it from me, those men of yours are obsessed. You could wear any of these dresses and no one’s going to blink twice. If they did, I’d punch them for you, and then one of your men would kill them.” I smile, knowing she is right. “You can wear any of these.”

“I think I’ve half convinced myself that if they see the burns, they’re going to run a mile from me. Tannith often said I shouldn’t care too.” I look in the mirror. “When I see the burns, I see the monster who did it.”

“He’s dead, right?” She double-checks and I nod. “Then don’t let him win. He wanted you to be scared to let anyone close, and I hate to tell you, those heirs and gargoyle are not going to run from you over the burns.” She comes over, wrapping her arms around me. “They look at you like you’re their world, and these burns are not going to make even an ounce of difference to how beautiful you are. They’re not your fault, and they are not ugly. You should just show them off as you fucking survived, Mere. If anyone runs, they are just cowards, okay? I’ll kick him for you.”

“Imagine trying to kick Zyran. I doubt he’d even feel it.” I laugh.

Zyran steps into the room after knocking once, the door left open by Illyia. The tartan he usually wears is gone, but there’s still tartan on him in a sense—his shirt that’s black and grey underneath a black jacket. He’s also wearing black trousers and heavy boots. A black cloak falls off his shoulders. Stunning. His grey skin only amplifies his features, makes his dark eyes seem like stars as they lock onto me. His eyes run down my dress and back up. “You are more beautiful than the night sky, love.”

“I need to find one of these.” She waves at Zyran. “Do you have any hot friends?”

“My friends are trapped on the Folkland,” he gruffly answers. “Are you both ready?”

“How are we getting to this place?” Illyia asks as I head to Zyran. “The city looks like it’s a good walk from this palace, and we both have heels on.”

“There are portals. Dain doesn’t just stay here rotting in his castle,” Zyran explains. I take his hand, and he leads us out of the room, knowing exactly where he’s going as he takes me to a side room and opens the door. There are several shadow portals all around the other side of the wall. Life, people, the city—excited, talking and just living. “These are six portal points across the city. Heavily guarded, of course—they can’t let just anybody walk in here.”

“And where exactly are we going?” I enquire, even though I trust him.

He leans forward, kissing my cheek. “A nightclub of sorts.”

“I’m so excited!” Illyia jumps up and down, her heels slapping on the floor.

I shake my head at her, smiling. But as I turn away, a wave of sadness hits me. Tannith. Goddesses above, she would have loved this. I don’t think she’d even believe that I was going out on a date and having fun…but I am. I’m doing it not only for myself, but for her. For all the times she would tell me just to go for it, and I would just smile at her and stay home. I’m going for it now, Tannith.

Zyran, unaware of my internal unravelling, pulls me through the portal, with Illyia holding my other hand, and we step out into the busy streets of Void City. People look so normal here—almost human, yet slightly paler, with extended teeth just like mine. They look healthy, none of the usual signs of starvation that I grew up seeing in the human district. They smile and laugh at each other’s jokes. There are no children—though I suppose there wouldn’t be since it’s quite late at night. Many start turning to stare directly at me and whispering.

Zyran unclips his cloak, pushing it around my shoulders and pulling the hood up over my head. “Not that I want to cover up this beautiful hair, but many here will know that gold means royal, and they will follow. Tell anyone who asks that you have a dye on it.” I nod, pulling the hood close around me, enjoying how it smells like him. Illyia stays close to my side as we push through the packed streets, people jostling us with every step.

Eventually, we come to a door. Two massive bodyguards stand in front of it, and there’s a huge queue. Zyran steps forward and says one word to the doorman, who pulls the door open for us, bowing his head. “Welcome.”

Illyia and I share a smile. I step inside, and Zyran takes the cloak off me, hanging it on the wall with many others before linking his fingers with mine. My gold hair falls in waves around my shoulders as we walk down a few steps and out into what looks almost like a greenhouse full of black flowers. They line the ceilings and walls, and some kind of glitter falls into the air above the people dancing in the middle. The rest of the room has bars and several cushioned private areas, and it is packed full of people.