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A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I felt the burn of the mark forming when my hand touched yours. Your soul called to mine and mine responded. The next thing I knew your magic exploded and I hit the wall. Then, when I awoke in the infirmary—alone—I could neither see nor feel anything more than a slight itch on my palm. Yet I can feel the draw to you, only it’s … weaker than when our skin first touched. Distorted even.”
He was upset and probably had every right to be. I still didn’t care for the accusatory tone of his voice, despite whatever I was sensing between my legs.
“While I cannot speak to what you’re feeling, I can say you did hit your head awfully hard.”
Someone belly-laughed deeply.
“This isn’t a fucking joke!” Casimir shouted.
The Shadow Lord stood. “Cas, calm down.”
“Not until she explains what she did. Something doesn’t feel right. And Iknowa mark was forming.”
“What mark?” Kol interrupted.
Kree, who’d positioned herself closer to my brother, wrapped her fingers around his. “Sometimes when fated mates meet and they soulbond, the mark of the double daggers will appear on their palm.”
“It looks like this,” Draven said, showing his palm.
My brother looked up at my father. “You don’t have that.”
Father shook his head. “I don’t. It typically only appears on soulmates with some degree of demon blood or who are mated to a demon. For some reason, it’s most prevalent in Shadow demons.”
He didn’t mention that he’d never soulbonded to his mate. Not every couple chose to bind their spirits. There were consequences to it that many were not prepared to risk. Though, I’d heard some fated mates truly struggled to deny the bond.
“Raven,” my father said, lowering his voice. “Is this how you knew you were where you were supposed to be?”
I was on the edge of a cliff about to jump off into the abyss. There would be no turning back.
“Raven?” he pushed.
Lying to him wasn’t an option. “Yes. This is why.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
I glanced at Father, whose solicitous attention was now on Casimir. “We should give them a few minutes alone,” he stated.
“Brokk,” Lyric cautioned, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea quite yet.”
Casimir’s fists opened. “Actually, it’s a great idea. Leave us.”
I waited for Draven to step in, thinking—hoping—he’d be far more interested in getting back to questioning me. Interrogation seemed far less daunting than facing the male at the other end of my soul’s thread.
“Ten minutes, Cas,” he said as he took Lyric’s hand.
“Twenty,” Casimir countered.
“Fifteen, then I’m coming back to this spot no matter what’s happening in here, got it?”
Casimir’s reply was to move away from the door and further into the Council room, keeping me in his sights. Everyone was filing out, leaving me to face the Shadow alone. My mouth suddenly felt dry.
“Apparently, your gut was right. Keep trusting it,” Father advised, patting my arm then continuing towards the exit with Kol in tow. Once he was shoulder to shoulder with Casimir, he paused, whispering something I couldn’t catch.
Casimir jerked his head, glaring at my father. “Over my dead fucking body,” he growled.
“Then I suggest you calm down before you destroy the chance you’ve been given,” Father warned and swiftly made his exit.
