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“A song?”
“Your magic lives in the earth. You likely know by now that ours is tangled with our voice.”
“But if you’re classed to the house,” I asked, “how do so many different powers serve on the crew?”
For a moment he studied me, brow arched, like I might have ulterior motives. I did, in a way, but found I wanted to know. Some twisted part of me enjoyed learning about the Ever Kingdom.
After a drawn pause, he folded his arms. “Our magic doesn’t force us to live within the origin house. Celine serves the House of Kings, though her ability to speak through the sea would be a voice from the House of Tides. The houses are kinship, as much as they are power. Taxes and offerings are paid to the house of your voice. Folk without a power of the sea, pay and honor the House of Kings.”
“So, blood families might be made of different magic?”
“Our voices are unique,” Erik said. “It is no different than the color of our hair or eyes. Every house is valuable, but the House of Kings rules all.” He rolled up his sleeve to the rune mark on his arm. “The royal blood is the one that is branded; a mark of a king. As I said, to see it on a woman who is not born of the sea is bewildering.”
“That mark was branded into you?”
He gave me a quizzical glance. “At birth.”
“That’s barbaric. Wear a damn crown to mark you as king.”
“It’s heavy and uncomfortable.” Erik chuckled. “I find it amusing you think a simple burn is barbaric when you’ve threatened much gorier things.”
“Don’t make it out like I wallow in brutality. I’m not you, Bloodsinger.”
“But you could be.” Erik leaned over the table. My lashes fluttered when his lips drew near to my ear. “When I look at you, I do not see a whimpering captive. I see the schemes in that beautiful head that have not stopped spinning since you were brought here—”
“Use better words. I wastaken.”
“I’m convinced you live to antagonize me.”
Under the table, my knee bounced. “Words are hardly a weapon against your blade and crew.”
I drew in a sharp breath when he pinched my chin between his thumb and finger. “Do not sell yourself short and think you are not the most formidable of foes. I’ve no doubt you have the power to destroy me.”
“I suppose time will tell.” I tilted away to be free of his hands. Any longer, and I might lose the strength to pull away. “So, these lords, are they part of a council, or do you ignore them?”
“Only in my dreams.” Annoyance pinched his mouth. “An unfortunate effect of crossing the Chasm is the lords would have felt it. I’ll likely need to meet with those pious bastards soon enough.”
“About me.” I held his gaze. I didn’t blink. “To discuss what they plan to do with me.”
Erik leaned over the table. “WhatIplan to do with you, Songbird. Not them.”
His voice was dark as a violent storm. Threats wove through every word, and there was something horridly wrong with me. He was the most dangerous, he was the one with my life in his hands, and still I found some kind of wretched comfort in the possessiveness lining his voice.
“The way you’re staring at your hands, either they’ve done something to offend you, or your thoughts are telling you not to believe me.” Erik’s mouth curved into a grin when I peeled my gaze from my lap.
“It’s just what Sewell said. I’m already surrounded by fae who fought in the great war and despise my people. Now, I bear a mark that belongs to their king.”
“You’re not wrong, love. Many folk, including the lords of the houses, all fought for the Ever. They’re powerful and have loyalty to their purses and themselves. If I can help it, you won’t face them since they’ll see you as a ransom, not . . .”
I tilted my head when his voice trailed off. “Not as what?”
“Not as you.”
Erik Bloodsinger was a dangerous man. I’d expected it. But he was unexpected in moments as this. I kept anticipating his brutality to fall over my head. Yes, he’d taken me, but there was almost something desperate when he looked at me, like he didn’t truly want to bring me harm, but had schemes turning in his head and I was the key to them all.
“What are you thinking, love?” Erik shot one leg out and subtly rubbed the place near his hip. “I can’t tell if you’re going to war or tears are about to be shed. I’d prefer the first. I do love it when you fight me.”
The pressure in my chest felt like I might be doing both. “Sometimes I wish I’d listened to my people and never snuck out to those prison cells.”
