Page 110 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“Not really,” she said, and Yasen frowned. “Okay, I’m lying.”

“About?”

“The idea scares me, but it also kind of excites me… it’s crazy that I want to be bonded to him, but I kind of do. He said it didn’t have to be romantic. He said he would want to be my paramadhar no matter our relationship.”

“And you believe him?”

“I think I do. If we’re destined for one another, then don’t I have to do this?”

“Maybe?”

She pushed off the door and started rifling through the pile of her clothing tossed on the chair. “Besides, after the way my magic behaved in the clearing, I’m sure this is the key to controlling my nightfire. He thinks so, too. This could be the edge we need to free the vanshaj once and for all.”

Yasen tipped his head. “Are you sure you’re not just looking for what you want to see?”

She stopped and turned to look at him. “I don’t think I am.”

He nodded. “Then I trust you to make good decisions, Zee. You’re not that naive girl who escaped the swamp all those months ago.”

Zarya gave him a rueful look. “I think a part of me will always be that girl, but I think I’m growing, too.”

His answering smile was soft and maybe a little proud. “Do what you need to, Zee, and just know I’m here no matter what.”

She felt tears build in her eyes as she crossed the room and threw her arms around his neck. He was warm and solid and was her family in a way that no one ever had been. “I love you, Yas.”

He drew her in closer, hugging her around the waist. “Don’t cry on me.”

“I’m not,” she said in a thick voice as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Yasen snorted. “You’re so… emotional.”

She laughed and wiped her tears before finally choosing a long black dress made of light fabric that fit over her bust, flowed to her ankles, and left her arms bare. She tied her hair up and swept on a bit of makeup, not at all hoping Rabin would think she looked nice.

When she was done, she headed into the living room to find him perched on the edge of a chair, prepared to leap out of his skin.

“I’m ready,” she said, spreading her arms. Row and Koura sat at the kitchen table nursing mugs of chai.

“For what?” Row asked.

“To visit the mystic,” Rabin answered. “You said you’d tell us where to find them.”

“Now? Isn’t that a little sudden?” Row asked, clearly having all the same reservations.

“Now,” Rabin said in a tone that invited no room for arguments. Row glared at Rabin and then turned to Zarya.

“I’ve agreed to it,” she said, and when she saw he was about to protest, she lifted a hand before explaining how her magic had reacted with Rabin at her side. “I want this, and I’m hoping this can help me control my nightfire enough to help.”

Row nodded slowly, his gaze full of distrust. “It might, but Zarya, this cannot be undone. Once you complete the Bandhan, there is no turning back. The only way to sever it is with his death.” Row scanned Rabin up and down. “Not that I’d object to that.”

Rabin said nothing, just arched a disdainful brow as though he was used to having his life threatened on a regular basis.

“I understand all that, Row,” she said. “But I don’t think I have a choice.”

“Then let’s go,” Rabin said, standing up and stalking towards Zarya, his burning gaze raking her from head to toe, making her stomach tighten. “The decision has been made and it’s really none of your business.”

Rabin aimed the comment at Row, who hesitated for another moment before he scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it over to Zarya. “As long as you’re sure.”

She reached out to accept it and answered, “As sure as I’ll ever be.”