Page 18 of When Wishes Bleed

I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re not wrong.”

“Do you feel anything for me at all? Even the slightest spark?”

A slight spark might be the best way to describe the way I felt. But a spark, however large, wasn’t enough when I wanted an inferno. I wanted to want the man I hand-fasted to with every inch of myself. Every thought. Every breath. Every beat of my heart would be for him.

It was silly to think I’d ever have that, but I wouldn’t settle for less.

I couldn’t look Brecan in the eye.

“I see,” he said quietly, tugging his cloak together. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

“Brecan—”

“No, you’ve made yourself quite clear,” he bit out before leaving the room, then my House, and then the yard.

He stomped to the House of Wind like a dark cloud. He didn’t have to choose a witch from the same House and affinity, but it would make a smart first match, and there were plenty of talented, beautiful Wind witches for him to consider.

In the end, he would see reason, and would understand that he and I could never be. I just hoped I hadn’t lost my only friend.

I paced the main floor, pausing at a portrait on the wall. My mother and I looked so much alike. I wasn’t sure when the photograph was taken, but she must’ve been my age, or close to it. Her lips were shaped like mine, bowed at the top and full at the bottom. Her almond-shaped eyes were dark like mine. The portrait looked so real, almost like she could step out of the frame and join me.

I wished she could. It would be nice to talk to someone about Brecan and what had happened this evening between the two of us.

It took me hours to fall asleep after Brecan left. Hurting his feelings was never my intention, but I knew that lying to him would only cause more damage.

I stripped one of the beds in a room on the first floor and covered it with my sheets and blankets, but it still didn’t feel right. The mattress was too plush. There wasn’t a lump to be felt.

Tossing and turning for several hours, I finally fell asleep, just to have a strange dream wake me just before sunrise. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed and was hoping to fall asleep again, even though there was much to do. Stretching my arms and legs in the dappled sunlight that fell across my blankets made me feel warm where the dream left me cold.

It was of my mother. I didn’t dream of her often, but when I did, it always unsettled me.

Closing my eyes, I slipped back to sleep, but didn’t stay that way for long before a loud knock woke me. Sitting up with a grumble, I threw the blankets off and lumbered toward the door. Cracking it open and blinking against the bright morning light, I stared at the stranger standing on my steps.

“Daughter of Fate?” he asked. The man looked to be in his fifties, and his cropped, neat hair was equal parts gray and chocolate brown. I didn’t know him, but I recognized the insignia smartly stitched into his dark cloak. The golden thread glimmered in the sunlight.

“I am she,” I rasped, clearing my throat awkwardly. Straightening my spine, I waited for him to tell me what he wanted. I refused to invite him in.

“My name is Courier Edward Stewart. I have a delivery for you.”

“A delivery from whom? I know no one in the lower sectors.”

Courier Stewart didn’t smile or show any emotion at all. His features were like iron as he held out his hands. In one was a small box, and in the other was a letter, sealed with golden wax. Pressed into the wax was the royal symbol, matching the one on his cloak – a spiraling nautilus shell. “The letter and parcel are from a member of the royal family,” he replied formally.

The royal family? Why on earth would anyone in the royal family send me a package and a letter? Or anything at all, for that matter? Unless they heard about my role in last night’s hanging…

I spied a cluster of Earth witches watching us from the Center, whispering to one another and giggling behind their hands. Brecan strode across the lawn to join them. His eyes met mine as I accepted the items.

“Is that all, Courier?” I asked, aware that the gaggle of witches watching the exchange had swiftly tripled in size.

“I will return before sunset to collect you. The letter will explain everything, but should you have any questions, I’ll do my best to answer them then.” He turned, jogged down my steps, and mounted a dappled mare I hadn’t even noticed grazing in my front yard.

“What do you mean, collect me?” I asked.

He either didn’t hear me, or purposely ignored my question, though I was fairly certain it was the latter. The nosey witch crowd giggled as I slammed the door closed.

Collect me? I don’t think so.

I gave the palm-sized box a good shake as I walked further into the house. My fingers twitched to open it, wondering what I might find inside, but I broke the seal and unfolded the letter first. A separate, smaller rectangle of thick paper fell onto the table, but I ignored it.

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