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“Yes, but they don’t live long. My point is that I’m not safe in Convocation lands unless you bond me. Why do you think I’ve lived the last years either at Convocation Academy or in House Elal?”
“I didn’t know you had, but if asked to guess, I would’ve said it’s because they—wrongly—view you as valuable property that must be kept locked up.”
“Valuable property that could be stolen,” she corrected. “No one expects a familiar to be so stupid as to try to escape the long arm of the Convocation,” she finished, so bitterly that he wanted to pull her onto his lap and cuddle her.
“I think I can protect you well enough,” he said instead. “I promise you that much.”
“Gabriel.” Finished with her plate, she pushed it forward and leaned her folded forearms on the table, regarding him earnestly. “There is no reason not to bond me. Just do it already.”
“There is a good reason. Several, in fact.” He returned her regard gravely.
“Do tell,” she replied with considerable exasperation.
Finding he’d cleaned his plate—and that he was too full to stuff in another bite—he stacked his plate on top of hers. “Because you disliked the idea of being my familiar so much that you took an enormous chance in order to escape me,” he explained patiently. “You told me, repeatedly, that you don’t want to be married to me, so it stands to reason you don’t want to be bonded to me either.”
“What Iwantdoesn’t matter,” she replied, not bitter this time, but sounding frustrated that he didn’t get it.
He reached across the table and put his hand on hers. Her magic simmered against his touch, beckoning. If only it meant she wanted him like he wanted her. “What you want matters to me.”
“Then why didn’t you release me back in Wartson when I asked?”
He should have. Making himself relinquish the sizzling warmth of her skin, he released her hand and raked it through his hair. “Because I was afraid you’d fall prey to the hunters again. If you don’t want to be with me, I’ll accept that—but I want you to be safe.”
She pounced on that. “Well, I won’t be safe until I’m bonded.”
“What about with your family? You’d be safe with them. You were before.”
She pressed her lips together, shaking her head slowly. “They can’t protect me indefinitely. That’s part of why I had to do the Betrothal Trials. If I’d stayed with House Elal as an unbonded familiar, especially one of my power, I would’ve had to live as a virtual prisoner. I’d have been under guard at all times to prevent my abduction. It’s not any kind of life.” She shifted restlessly, gazing out the window at a freedom that could never be hers. “There are no good alternatives for someone like me.”
“You had a plan,” he said, sitting back in the chair and watching her closely, “for the Trials. You said it wasn’t because of me that you ran, but something about being tied to me made you decide to take the risk of escaping. I can’t possibly permanently bond you to me, knowing that. Unless you can convince me otherwise.”
She sighed, gaze still on the drizzling sky. “Just bond me already, Gabriel. You don’t have to know everything about me.”
He shook his head. “No. I won’t do it unless you’re willing.”
“Iamwilling,” she protested, gesturing to herself. “Look at me. Here I am, begging you to bond me. You want to talk about the pregnancy? All right. I feel fine. I don’t feel anything yet, but the Oracle Heads are never wrong. You want to know why I ran? I had a chance, I took it, and the plan fell through. But we didn’t know about the hunters, so it was a doomed plan regardless. I can’t be free. I’m already yours, so let’s just tie this up with a bow and move on with your plan to restore House Phel.”
She was convincing. She also didn’t mean it. The terror of the trap shone in her green eyes. He recognized that emotion, dreading something so much that you want to get it over with as quickly as possible. He didn’t want her to live in fear—but he also couldn’t be the blade she wielded against herself. Setting her free now wouldn’t save her, but he could take one step to help her feel more like a person, not a slave.
“Are you done eating?” he asked, waving a hand at their empty plates.
She opened her mouth, closed it again. “There’s apple pie, but I can’t stuff in another bite right now.”
“We’ll have it for dessert tonight. Let’s take a walk.” He stood and went to the packages, sorting through them.
“A walk?” she repeated as if he’d suggested flying over the sea.
“An errand,” he clarified, finding the package he wanted and triggering the sealing mechanism the saleswoman had showed him. “Some fresh air and exercise to help us digest this excellent meal.”
“I had enough fresh air to last a lifetime on that benighted barge,” she grumbled as she stood, sounding more like her sardonic self. “What is that?” Her expression of astonishment and growing delight did his heart good.
He shook out the cloak and, moving behind her, draped it over her shoulders. Because he couldn’t resist her entirely, he brushed a kiss over her temple, inhaling the scent of wine-spiced roses. “A warm cloak. I keep my promises, Nic.”
She ran reverent fingers over the emerald-green velvet and the white fur trim, sealing the front closure with a light touch. “Ophiel make,” she commented, turning to face him.
“In House Phel colors.” She looked incredibly beautiful in it, as he’d imagined. The deep green brought out her eyes, and the shadowfox fur lining set off her dark hair and vivid complexion.
“And very expensive,” she finished. “I can guess how much this set you back.”
