Page 106 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

“The ceremony,” he says, his voice shifting, still soft but practical now. “Don’t worry about the protocol, just stay next to me. Every time I tug your arm—” He demonstrates with a light pull at my elbow. “Kneel with me. That’s it.”

It’s simple, something I can hold onto.

“Thank you, Grier.”

His eyes flicker with something he won’t let himself say.

“Come on.” He tilts his head toward the stairs leading down to the grounds. “Before he loses his mind.”

We descend the terrace stairs and weave through the crowd toward Ryewood. He spots me immediately, and the tension in his shoulders eases the moment our eyes meet. But not completely. There’s still a furrow between his brows, still questions he’s holding back.

His hand finds the small of my back the instant I’m close enough. Like he was counting the breaths until he could touch me again.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs as a reminder and a promise.

And somehow that makes it worse. Because he means it, he’s not going anywhere. But I am.

I spot Finn and Rosie near a cluster of lesser nobles on the opposite side of the altar. Finn catches my eye, one eyebrow lifting, checking on me from across the grounds.

I give him the smallest nod. He doesn’t look convinced, but his eyes stay on mine, warm in a way that means he’s got me regardless, before turning his attention back to Rosie.

“It’s starting,” Grier says quietly.

The crowd falls silent as the officiant takes his place at the altar.

Lord and Lady Willowmere step forward together. She’s dressed in pale green silk, and he in formal black. They move in unison, with their hands already intertwined with the ease of two people who’ve spent a lifetime learning each other.

The officiant raises his arms, and his voice carries across the grounds.

“We gather to witness the tethering of two souls, two hearts, two magics becoming one.”

A tethering. Not the simple vows commoners exchange, but real magic. The awakened are the only ones who can do it because they’re the only ones with magic to give. Another thing I’ll never have with him. Don’t. Don’t think about it.

“I wonder what their display will be,” a noblewoman murmurs nearby. “My sister’s tethering grew the most beautiful Sycamore. Took root right there at the altar.”

Her companion hums. “Lord Ashford’s was a rosebush that still blooms every spring.”

The magic mirrors the connection, or so they say. The greater the love, the more powerfully the magic answers.

The couple turns to face each other with hands clasped and foreheads touching, so close they’re breathing the same air.

“In the tradition of our ancestors,” the officiant continues, “you will speak the sacred vows. And then you will open your magic to one another, letting it flow between you freely, tethering your souls for all the days of your lives.”

Grier’s hand tugs gently at my elbow, and I kneel with him on the cold stone as the crowd does the same around us.

Lady Willowmere speaks first, her voice steady and sure, the voice of a woman who has loved the same man for decades and would choose him again in a heartbeat.

“I offer you my magic, my heart, my life. From this moment until my last breath, I am yours.”

Ryewood’s hand shifts from my back to the nape of my neck, where his thumb makes a featherlight touch that makes my skin hum. I glance at him; he’s watching the altar, his expression soft and wanting. Then his gaze shifts to me. And the look in his eyes⁠—

Don’t. Don’t read into it⁠—

I force my attention back to the ceremony. Lord Willowmere’s voice is rougher, thick with emotion.

“I offer you my magic, my heart, my life. From this moment until my last breath, I am yours.”

My throat tightens, the heat behind my eyes builds, and I have to push back the tears and lock every muscle in my face to keep it from showing. The most beautiful words I’ve ever heard, and I’ll never get to say them to the man beside me.