Page 50 of Bound By Darkness

Rusted Hinges

THALIA

Sittingon the slowly deflating couch, my foot tapped against the creaking floor as I watched the door for signs of movement—for any indication he was back. I planned to light a fire when Ivan walked through it for leaving me here with a man I hardly knew.

Well, at least a man I knew less than him.

Fin shifted against the chair as his fingers delicately flipped the pages of his leather-bound book, his cedar eyes roaming over the text in great sweeps.

Hours of faelight had crept into the room, illuminating bits of floating dust as it fell to the equally coated flooring and yet, he had not uttered one word to me. One syllable of why I sat on this couch alone.

Fin’s lips pursed together as he flipped the page, the edges crinkling with each turn. His hair was tied back in a sloppy bun, highlighting the hard angles of his cheekbones and youthful appearance. A few wrinkles creased his forehead, his smile lines barely apparent as strands of black hair curled around his temples. His pointed nose wrinkled as his lips curled into afrown.

Picking at a loose thread that would likely unravel the ancient couch, I tore my gaze from the silent statue to the spread of books cluttered on the floor, table, and bookshelf.

Well-loved and well-read, many were stained with bits of rouge and kohl. Some were yellow and faded; the corners ripped back to expose the crumbled pages beneath. Much like the book he read in his hands.

Picking one from the table between us, my fingers floated over the blue cover. A warrior dressed in fighting leathers occupied the majority of space, her golden hair spilling onto her shoulders and back like roaring flames. A jeweled crown rested on her temples as she focused on the mountainside behind her covered in bits of white.

Running my hands down the spine, the text jumbled into unfamiliar words and phrases beyond my basic knowledge.

“That’s a good choice.” His voice was light as he nodded his head toward it. “The woman on the cover is the main character. She spent most of her life locked away in prison, both physically and mentally, until she guided her homeland to victory.”

“Spoiler much?”

“Depends on your interest in the ending or the journey.”

“Ending,” I stated over him. “The journey is the most boring part of a book.”

“I’d disagree.” He flipped another page. “The journey teaches you character depth, realization, and the impact of the ending. The ending doesn’t make sense unless you study the journey.”

“Endings make perfect sense without the journey. I bet she fell in love, defeated the enemy, and regained her title and kingdom by the end.”

“Perhaps, but she also lost loved ones and gained knowledge into who she is.”

“That’s part of living. Understanding doesn’t change what she accomplished by the end.”

It never did. Even the stories mother used to read to me and Yeva were nothing more than nightmares appearing as dreams.

Fin scratched the stubble lining his jaw, a hint of mischief high in his voice. “You sound delightful to read with.”

I placed the book back on the table. It landed with a soft thud. “If it has unrealistic endings, it’s a boring book,” I said. “Speaking of boring.” My head jerked toward the door. “Did Ivan mention where he was going or when he’d be back?”

“Why would I actively seek out a conversation with him?” He laughed, but lightness did not reach most of it. “Trust me, I’m just as pissed as you are. You were both supposed to be out of my house already.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

I wanted to leave this dust-infested place itching my nose every few seconds.

Fin’s fingers paused on the page. “What are you doing with him anyway? Given your level of disdain toward him, I assume you’re not intimate with him, but what’s in it for you? Your loyalty doesn’t make sense to a man of his… status.”

His words lit embers under my skin as I willed my fingers to remain stretched, even as they desperately wanted to curl against my palms. “It’s none of your business.” It wasnone of his business to know about the deal.

“Oh, but it is. You enter my home, use my bedroom, and sit on my couch. I have every right to know.”

“Bring your concerns to Ivan. He is my keeper, after all.” The words scorched my throat as I spoke them into existence. Despite our conversation last night, he still controlled much of my life.

“Hm,” he said, his brown eyes narrowing. “I don’t entirely believe you.” His nostrils flared as he assessed me the way Lord Haville had. “I smell death on you. You reek of its stench. Surprising for a half-breed.”

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