Page 48 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

“Definitely an incomplete bonding,” the shadow elf muttered.

“Reversible?” Illeron asked.

Casimir assessed my arm again. “I don’t know.”

“The pooka said it wasn’t,” Calypso answered from the circle of my arms. She rested her cheek against the center of my chest. As much as I didn’t want to, I loosened my hold on her. Forcing myself to step back, I broke contact.

Calypso straightened her shoulders as though facing a grim fate. I didn’t blame her. A lifetime bound to a high fae in a role she was ill-prepared for was a scary prospect. A leaden sensation settled in my stomach. This was not how I had envisioned my eventual marriage coming about. I had hoped for a love match—or at the very least, a sense of companionship with my bride, not a match of duty.

Calypso turned and addressed the elves calmly. “The pooka warned us the bond would grow stronger the longer we remained in contact.”

Illeron frowned. “Pookas are rarely wrong about such things.”

“Your recommendation?” I asked, despite my certainty of what he would say.

“Complete the bond.” Illeron eyed me before turning to his brother. “Casimir, would you agree?”

“I’m unsure. Fae mate bonding magic functions differently than elven lifeforce bindings.”

“True,” Illeron agreed. “Neither of you are draining the other’s lifeforce.”

“But what about her tendency to faint?” I asked. “Will that end if we complete the bond?”

Casimir offered a noncommittal shrug while Illeron grimaced.

“No way of knowing,” Illeron replied. The spymaster nodded toward the bookcases. “Any records of mate bonded pairs in recent history?”

“I will have the archives and records searched.” But I didn’t hold out much hope. “Even if we find some, I doubt they will shed enough light on the situation considering she is shifter and not fae.”

“Perhaps the pooka could help,” Calypso suggested. “He might at least be able to advise us about my fainting spells.”

“Another good idea.” Illeron smiled at Calypso.

My arm tightened of its own accord, but this time I mastered the impulse to punch him before my arm did more than tense.

Behind me, Ghost huffed.

I rolled my eyes at him and tried to focus on how to steer our discussion to the other, potentially more pressing matter—the Unseelie king’s expanding border claims into human territory. The curse bound my tongue, but it didn’t bind Calypso’s. There had to be a way I could warn the elves what was happening during the Wild Rides before it was too late.

Thirteen

Calypso

By the time the elves left, Azulin was tenser than a fiddle string on the brink of snapping. He had wordsmithed to the point I finally understood he wished me to tell the elves something, but by that point the elves needed to leave. Besides, I couldn’t figure out what Azulin wanted me to say.

“I will return soon to check on you. Send word if anything changes,” Illeron requested with a formal bow as they prepared to take their leave. “Take care, my lady. The pair of you have a rough journey ahead by the looks of it.”

Casimir merely bowed to both of us, caught Illeron’s elbow, and pulled the two of them through a shadow.

I shivered at the sight. “What is it like, walking through shadows?”

“It is called wraithwalking.” Azulin collapsed into the chair behind his desk once more and scrubbed his face with his palms. “I don’t know what the experience is like. Never needed to do it.”

“Sire.” Ghost approached. “The dragon representative is here.”

Azulin groaned.

“What do they want?” I asked.

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