Page 17 of When Wishes Bleed

“I’m here!” he yelled in response, throwing up his hand. “Thank you again,” he said, locking eyes with me for a beat before jogging down the steps and crossing the yard to meet them.

He urged his friends toward the border. The three young men took to the woods, their dark cloaks flapping behind them.

All I could think was, I hope he survives the night.

As I pushed the door closed, a clock on one of the upper floors began to chime. I ignored the fact that it hadn’t been wound in at least seventeen years and made my way into the house to wipe the blood from the table, and to cast that cursed bone out of my House.

I’d have to smudge again just to be able to sleep tonight… if it was possible to get the golden eyed boy out of my mind.

When I opened the back door and chucked the bone and shard out into the grass, I didn’t even notice Brecan approaching. He ducked in time to avoid being hit. “Do I want to know?” he asked.

I opened my mouth, wondering if I should tell him about the reading and deciding against it. “Probably not.”

“Wayra spoke to me,” he casually mentioned as he stepped inside, his shoulder brushing mine.

“Do I want to know what about?”

“My future is finally looking a little brighter,” he said, wagging his brows.

“Will you be hand-fasted?”

He pointed a finger at me. “You truly are a diviner of fate.”

“And who is the lucky girl she’s picked out for you?”

I followed him into the kitchen where he propped a hip against the counter. “You’re unpacking this late?” he asked, looking at the bundles of herbs I’d used to make the sobering spell.

“I’m trying to. I can’t focus.”

He nodded, glancing from the herbs to me. “She said I could choose,” he announced. “She said that as long as the young lady accepts, we will be fasted on the Winter Solstice.”

“Who are you thinking of asking?”

Brecan gave me a smoldering look. Oh, no. No, no, no. “I was hoping you would be my first,” he said boldly, crossing the room to stand in front of me.

“They would never approve,” I told him. “I’m supposed to be isolated now that I’ve asked for my House back.” Not that I wasn’t isolated before.

“It’s only for a year, Sable. It’s not a lifelong commitment. By their own rules, they must approve if you accept.”

“I think you’d find that a year is a long time to be sidled to the Daughter of Fate. Besides, if you fasted to me, no other witch would touch you after our year ended.”

His eyes flicked to my lips. “Perhaps you’re wrong, and our short-lived union would fuel their curiosity instead.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” I grumped, turning away from him and peering into the sitting room, at the spot on the purple couch where the golden-eyed boy had sat.

Brecan’s hands found my waist. “I know you think I’m being ridiculous, but I’m not. And I know the consequences of my proposal as far as the Circle is concerned. You’ve always kept me at arm’s length, but I think you’d find it much more pleasurable to keep me closer.” He ran a hand down my upper arm. “Accept me, Sable.”

I wished I felt something for him. Something like the tingle the mere sight of the boy with the bloody wish incited.

Brecan’s hand fell away. “Would you even consider me?”

“It’s not you, Brecan. It’s…me,” I answered lamely. “The witches hate me, and would hate you by extension if we were hand-fasted.”

“They fear you. They don’t hate you, Sable.”

“It sure feels like hate to me.”

When I didn’t turn to face him, he stepped around to stand in front of me. “I’m too pretty to hate,” he teased with a grin.