Page 102 of Freeing Hook

“And you forgot about Peter,” I say.

He shakes his head. “No, not at all. I adored Iaso. Loved her with all my heart. But Peter was my closest friend, and I had no intention of abandoning him. Eventually, I introduced him to my peculiar female friend, and they took to each other immediately. We spent years plotting our futures. Since Peter wasn’t allowed to leave the orphanage, and my…family situation made getting a job difficult, Iaso started taking odd jobs in the village, saving up for the ship fare we’d need to leave that wretched town. Looking back, I’m not sure Peter believed that we truly meant to take him with us when we escaped, but we did.

“By the time we were fifteen, Iaso had almost saved enough for us to escape town on a trading vessel. We planned to marry as soon as we reached port in Caraway. Buy a house and let Peter room upstairs.

“But dreams never seem to work out perfectly, no matter how well-planned. It was the first day of spring—I remember because there was a festival in the village Iaso was working. Anyway, I woke to this on my wrist.”

A shudder snakes through me as I stare at his Mark. Because I was born on the first day of spring.

“Obviously it didn’t look quite like this then. At first, I was overjoyed. It never crossed my mind that I’d be Mated to anyone other than Iaso. But when I showed it to her that night, she went pale, started trembling. I’d thought hers would have appeared too, but she explained to me that for females, Marks appear when they reach maturity. That if she were going to have a Mark, it would have already appeared.”

I think of my Mark, appearing with my first bleeding. My mother had fainted.

“And for males?” I ask.

“For males,” the captain says, choosing his words carefully, “Marks appear when their Mate is born.”

I can feel the blood draining from my face, but Astor continues. “I was horrified at the idea of being bound to another woman. Of my heart being stolen away without my consent. Tried everything I could to scrub it off. I even took a brand to it, but it kept reappearing, my skin healing, the Mark growing brighter with each attempt to remove it.

“Iaso knew a Seer from the village. One who dabbled in rune magic. The Seer didn’t believe a Mark could be removed—only transferred. She said if we could find a host, she could give the Mark to someone else.”

“That’s not possible,” I breathe. “My parents tried…any Seer they went to said it couldn’t be done.”

“Not well, no,” he says. “But we were too young to know any better.”

My heart snags. “So you thrust me on Peter?”

Shadows from the fireplace darken his cheeks. “No, Darling. Peter volunteered.”

“Why?” I ask, tears stinging at my eyes. “Why would he do that?” I can’t figure out where my anger is coming from. If it’s from having my Mark traded like a commodity or if it’s from the unfairness of Peter having to take me on.

Or if I’m mad because…because Astor traded me away.

“Peter loved us. Both of us. Iaso and me. Or so we thought,” Astor says, staring into the fire like through its flames he can glimpse portions of the past. “He could see how much it pained us—the idea of being ripped apart. I think part of him thought he was saving our little trio. That by taking my Mark, he’d have someone, too. Everyone would win.

“But the Seer tricked us. It cost us every last copper Iaso had saved up to perform the ritual. It was agonizing,” he says, pulling up his sleeves to show me. As if I haven’t already seen the bruises, as fresh as if they’d been made yesterday, not twenty years ago. “She didn’t tell us her magic wasn’t strong enough. While she was able to transfer part of the Mark, giving the majority of it to Peter, well…you see.”

I nod, gaze going blurry as I take it all in. I can’t tell if the room is getting smoky from the fire, or if my eyes are just losing the will to focus.

“Peter wasn’t the same after that,” he says. “He grew distant. Jealous. He’d wanted a Mate of his own, but I think he blamed me for keeping part of the Mark. He felt it so strongly once it was a part of him, he couldn’t imagine me ever purposefully letting you go. He didn’t understand what Iaso and I had.”

My chest hurts.

“As he pulled away, Iaso and I continued to make plans. When her grandfather died and left her part of his inheritance, she and I took off. By that point, Peter hadn’t spoken to me in months. We thought he wanted nothing to do with us. I thought that would be the end of it. I missed my friend, but I was drunk on happiness for the first and only time in my life. Iaso and I married when we reached Caraway. We’d just turned sixteen. And everything was perfect. Four and a half years of absolute bliss. Iaso and me against the world, jumping from one adventure to the next.

“We’d always hidden her powers, afraid of others’ greed. Afraid they’d take her away from me. But as the years passed and Iaso witnessed more and more suffering, she could no longer stand by when others fell ill. I tried to stop her. Warned her of what traffickers would do to her if they found out her blood contained healing properties. But she told me she couldn’t let anyone keep her from doing what was right—not even me. And well, you know what happened after that.”

I nod. “A girl in Estelle fell ill. And Iaso came to the rescue,” I say, throat dry, a tangy taste on my tongue, as if I can remember the taste of her blood. My throat hurts. “I was your Mate first.” Astor’s gaze lands on my mouth. “I was your Mate. And you gave me away.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “Darling, you have to understand…”

“Oh, I understand,” I say, throat bobbing.

His face goes sharp, all cutting lines and angles. “I loved Iaso. She was my best friend. You can’t blame me for what I did.”

“Can’t blame you for what you did?” I ask, exasperated. “You still can’t see it, can you? I’m not a fool. I can forgive you for falling in love with the perfect woman, your match in every way. I can forgive you for doing what you could to never let anything come between you. But the two of you, the three of you,” I say, remembering Peter, “you’re forgetting there was someone else in this story. You’re forgetting that you ripped meinhalf.”

“Darling—”

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