Page 113 of Storm of Ink and Blood

Rabin nodded. “It was encouraged by someone important to me. The magic helps with my dragon transformation.”

Thriti raised an eyebrow and held out a hand. “May I?”

Rabin nodded and pressed her fingers to the tattoo, her eyes fluttering closed as she explored the sinuous lines created by Abishek’s royal mystic. After a few seconds, she nodded.

“Yes, I feel it,” she said. “It’s very powerful.”

Thriti peered at him for perhaps a moment too long before she clapped her hands. “Well, the good news is that I can make use of this for the Bandhan, and you’ve just cut my job in half.”

She turned to look at Zarya. “Where would you like it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really.”

She looked at Rabin as if seeking help, and he crossed the room, placing one hand on her waist and tugging down the sleeve of her dress before he kissed the back of her shoulder.

“How about here?” he asked against her skin, feeling her shiver under his touch.

“Sure,” she whispered. “That would work.”

“Then lie on the bench face down,” Thriti said, gesturing to the center of the room. “This will sting a bit. Take your arm out of your sleeve. I’ll need clear access to the area.”

She nodded and did as Thriti asked before lying on her stomach.

“You can grab that stool,” she then said to Rabin. “This will take a while.”

Rabin dragged it over and settled near Zarya’s head. She stared at him while Thriti worked, wincing at the needle’s first sharp prick.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” Then she reached towards him. “Take my hand. Please?”

His heart squeezed inside his chest as he held his hand out, and she slipped her warm fingers into his. He stared down at their linked fingers, thinking of everything that had brought them to this moment and that first mysterious call when he’d felt the pull to seek her out in his dreams.

He looked up to find her watching him, and something passed over her expression at that moment.

Something that felt like hope and the shining possibility of a future together. Like his entire world was changing and nothing would ever be the same again.

THIRTY-EIGHT

After a few more hours of pain, Thriti announced she was almost done. Zarya whimpered with relief. Her shoulder felt like it was on fire, and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

Thriti explained that an enchanted marking caused more pain due to the infusion of a special substance that would allow magic to bind with it.

“Is that how they add the collars?” Zarya asked without really meaning to. She didn’t have to explain what she was referring to as Thriti’s eyes darkened.

“Yes. It is a similar process.”

Zarya thought of the vanshaj babies screaming as they were branded with their collars. It was painful enough on her shoulder that she couldn’t imagine what it would feel like on the delicate skin of their tiny throats. She swallowed down a surge of nausea. If she had any lingering reservations about the Bandhan, they were just wiped away. She was committed to this. To the rebellion. To everything that had brought her to Ishaan.

Her gaze drifted to her left.

And to Rabin, too.

“We’re done with this part. Now I’ll infuse the ink with the magic to seal the Bandhan,” Thriti said a moment later. “It will hurt.”

“More than this?” Zarya asked.