Page 8 of Bound By Roses

So that’s it. I don’t want her to marry me just because she’s afraid of losing me. I touch her face, running a thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. “It won’t. But we can ask about it if you want to be sure. I’m sure the bonded here will know.”

“I wish we could ask Tess.”

“She and Ruben never mated. They were mates, but it was rejected, in a way. They never had a ceremony.”

A flash of fear clouds her eyes, and I instantly regret mentioning the existence of rejected mates. “What if that happens to us if we don’t have one?”

“Let’s not worry about that now. We’ll ask.” I don’t think we need to worry about that ever. I don’t know for sure what happens if a ceremony isn’t performed, but we’ve chosen each other twice. I bear the same flower on my collarbone that she does. I don’t think the Gods themselves can break our bond now.

Death, however, might.

I lean in and kiss her before she can read the panic in my eyes. She kisses me back, and just as I’m readying myself to take her again, the city shakes.

Water sloshes violently around us. Both in the pool and the ocean slamming against the glass walls of this bubble.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the waters stills.

CHAPTER THREE

ABBY

The dining hall seems far larger than necessary. It’s central, as if it’s the heart of the city and the sirens and dragons that move through it are the lifeblood that keeps this place alive.

Scattered rectangular tables populate the room, and judging by the number of sirens we’ve seen, not even if every single one of them was in this room at the same time would every chair be filled. Though I have no idea how many are out at sea.

Just like Teagan.

Petra sits alone at one of the tables. The other dragons—save for Merrick, who must still be with Jade, and Rhett, who is hopefully back in bed—sit at the table next to hers. She stares out at the empty waters, perking her head up whenever a siren whooshes by, dragging behind them a tail of shimmering scales.

I know how she feels. Being separated from your mate can be agony, and although her bond with Teagan is still intact, that distance will weigh on them. I just hope they’re still communicating through their bond. That thought has me wondering again how important a binding ceremony is. I doubtthere’s been one for Teagan and Petra, so how long can they stay apart before their bond snaps?

Before I can ask Quinn, I feel his hand grip mine and gently tug me in the opposite direction. It only takes a second for me to see why. Aurelia is across the room, seated at a table with two other sirens, though she isn’t speaking to them. There’s a distinct disconnect, and it’s clear she’s eating her food alone.

That is, until Merrick enters from the entrance on that side of the room and claims the seat beside her. He leans in close, whispering furiously, so that only she can hear. His voice raises as we reach them, just loud enough for me to make out a single hissed sentence. “You have to tell them!”

“Tell us what?” Quinn asks before I can. It’s not like him to intrude like this, but there’s been something off about him all day. I’d thought it was the exhaustion or the reforging of our bond, but there’s something else weighing on his mind.

Aurelia looks up from her greyish food; her plate surprisingly empty and more fishbone than anything else. Is there a food shortage or is she just not hungry? I glance around at the plates on nearby tables and they all look just as meagre.

When I turn my gaze back to Aurelia, her eyes are shooting daggers up at us. “So this is how you look not covered in dirt and blood.” The statement was for Quinn, and there’s a weight to her words and her stare. Quinn must feel it too, because he seems to falter under it for just a moment before steeling himself again.

“What was that shaking?”

Merrick’s eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, and with a slight shake of his head, turns and walks away to join his own kind. I can’t be certain if there was meaning behind the gesture or if I’m reading too far into things. If I’m being honest, I’m probably overtired and could use another few hours of sleep. Not that I’m eager to face the nightmares again.

Annoyance and something else flickers across Aurelia’s face. Worry, perhaps? “Nothing that concerns you.” She waves a hand to the center of the room where a man is clearly preparing and distributing plates of food. “Brin will give you each a plate. Choose a table away from others. Keep your heads down and do not draw attention. Sit with the dragons if they will have you. Many here will not.”

No, she’s not going to just dismiss us like that. “If we’re in danger here, we deserve to know. What was that shaking?” As if to emphasize my question, the entire room rocks. The smooth waters churn outside of the glass dome that encases us, and what was clear turns white with the force. Small fish dart out from bits of coral and swim, as if frightened and regretting their decision of choosing a home so close.

When the shaking ceases once more, it seems every pair of siren eyes is on us.

No. OnQuinn.

Deep scowls etched into faces that were never quite friendly to begin with, fill the room and bear down on the man next to me. But he doesn’t waver. Quinn meets each and every one of their stares for just a moment before turning back to Aurelia.

“Why is everyone looking at me like that was my fault?” The question is emotionless, as if he were asking about the weather rather than the reason a room full of strangers want to tear into him more than the scraps of fish on their plates.

Aurelia drops a coral fork and dusts off her fingers, the only one not looking at Quinn. “This is not the place. Do as I told you before you make things worse.”

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