Page 36

The tale was gruesome, and I despised the whole of it. I told her how Vishon was torn in two by the soul render, a rite so vicious it destroyed the vows of his sjeleven bond with my mother.

I did not have a sealed bond with Lyra, only a thread, but even so, I could not imagine doing anything to harm her or risk severing it.

My jaw tensed. I will never trust the queen entirely because of it. To destroy such a bond is believed to cause the same greed and bloodlust that befell the first king.

“Did your father lose his voice too?”

I shook my head. His mind. There is always something taken. My father suffered delusions. There were times he recognized us. But the longer he was divided, the less we had him. The crown fell upon my mother’s head in his absence.

“By the gods.” For a long pause, Lyra was silent. “If the queen did so much before, there is no telling what she will do now.”

She won’t touch you.

“I know you want to believe that,” Lyra said, “but she tore apart her own husband, Roark.”

I own her soul. I leaned closer to Lyra, the tips of my fingers running along her jaw as I spoke. She made a vow, soul to soul, to never bring harm to you. Should she break it, I will turn her into nothing.

Lyra’s brows raised. “Why would she agree to it?”

She knows of Fadey. She knows we hunt the Wanderer’s bones ahead of him and plan to destroy them. Understand, Lyra, I have not forgotten nor will I forget Darkwin. And we will go after him, but the bones are what Fadey needs most. We must find a way to leave here, but the queen is not confident anyone will let you leave once word of Damir’s death reaches the clan.

“So what are we to do? Wait until someone kills me in my sleep?”

I could not put off my plan a moment longer. Lyra would either mock me openly, flee from me, or…agree. There is a way to make you untouchable to all Draven folk. By law. It is stronger than a vote of a council.

“Is this the part where I will get angrier?”

Heat prickled up my neck. Likely. But it is a legitimate way to keep you safe.

Lyra folded her arms over her chest. “What is it?”

One breath, two. Seal our bond.

“What would that do?”

As I said, it is sacred to my folk. If someone kills one half of a sealed bond, the punishment is execution. If we complete—or seal—our bond, to kill you would mean they die too.

Lyra blinked. “Unless the council agreed with their actions.”

Not on this. It would take you doing something horrendous, like murdering the queen, or me, or half the clan.

She arched a brow. “I’m supposed to believe that if people are bonded, they are safe from punishment because their bond is so sacred.”

I grinned. No. Many a ravager is bonded, I’m sure. They are sent to fight, where they die or live if the Norns smile upon them. A law is enforced should anyone slaughter an innocent who is bonded. You are innocent, and the council knows it. They know melders are forced to use soul bones. But you are here now, no longer forced to serve the Jorvans. If anyone were to harm you for merely having melding craft, it would be my right to kill them. They know after Fillip I would not hesitate.

“If I do this,” she began, voice soft, “seal the bond, what exactly does that make me to you?”

For a long, drawn moment I did not make a gesture.

Then, You’ll be my wife.

13

Lyra

My wife.

Heart in my throat, I could not look away from Roark’s hands. Doubtless, I’d misread the word. Surely, his hands moved too furiously, I’d interpreted something else entirely.