Page 54 of Terragnata and the Heir of the Earth

His eyes pulled away from Cas. They traced my body, lingering on every inch of exposed skin. He had never seen me in a dress, save for the silk shift I wore during our coupling. Hell, he had rarely seen mewashed. His expression seemed to brighten ever so slightly as it followed the lines of my figure.

“Why?” I whispered, a tear escaping down my face. “Why did you lie? You may not have spoken complete falsehoods, but you took advantage of my trust. You let me believe the crap Jana spewed about my Witch mother being dead, let me believe my memories had been restored when youknewthere were key details missing. I could take it from anyone.Anyone.But not you,” I breathed, my voice hitching on the last word.

His gaze fell, landing on the new ring I now wore on my left hand. I shook my head, knowing he would say nothing in front of Cas. And though I still raged at the warrior, I wanted Cas’s focus elsewhere. I didn’t know what kind of psychological torture he had in store for Ezren, but I wasn’t about to allow it. Any verbal weapons used against him would be wielded by me, and me alone.

So, I turned on my heel, exiting the cell and slamming the door behind me. I slipped my arm in Cas’s, steering him back towards the exit. “Come on, Cas, he’s not worth it,” I said, my words sending a slice of pain to my chest, nearly breaking my resolve. Cas hesitated, but then I looked up at him, batting my lashes, playing wounded princess. It wasn’t difficult.

“Please?” I breathed. He regarded me with concern and nodded. And then we left. While I knew I had spared Ezren whatever torment Cas had planned for the time being, I had the overwhelming feeling that he was not safe there.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LITTLE DOVES

Cas walked me back to my chamber, silent the entire way. I sensed I should not press him, that his rage kept him ensnared, dangerous. I didn’t remember him like this. He was always the calm one, never riled, never had anger bubbling under the surface like many males did. He was a carefree boy when I knew him.

Things had changed for both of us.

“Have your maid dress you in dinner-wear,” he said when we reached my door. “I assume you don’t want to meet your mother with your breasts out.” He said the last part with joking intent, but I flinched anyway. Then he brought his lips to my hand, brushing them over my skin, a whisper of a kiss. He made to let go, but I held on. So much felt the same, yet so much changed in the boy I’d known. I wanted to know why.

“What happened to you after I… left?”

His guarded eyes seemed to soften. “It was a long seven years,mi karus. You may remember me sweet as a dove, but that’s becauseyoubalanced me. When I had to accept your death, well, I certainly fought that idea for a time. I was young. I didn’t understand why someone would want to hurt you. But eventually, I did. I came to see the evil that weighs against thegood. And my world changed. I lived in a world where you no longer existed, and that made it feel like my place in it was… well, different. I didn’t want to be the dove anymore.”

I don’t know if it was the nostalgia of our childhood or the brokenness in his voice, but I reached up and laid my palm on his smooth, clean-shaven face. I searched his eyes, and I kissed his cheek, soft and hesitant, like we were still kids in the woods. And he kissed mine back for a moment, but then pulled away, his guard up once more. He shook his head, a wry smile spreading over his face, and murmured, “I’m not a little dove anymore, Terra. Remember that.”

And then he left. I stood alone at my door, wondering not for the first time aboutmyworld andmyplace in it.

Olea stood ready,a plethora of evening gowns laid out on the bed in front of her or hung from the armoire and other creative places. I paid little attention to them.

“Olea, what’s a binding?” She threw me a suspicious glance as she busied herself laying out the jewels that matched each dress. “Et esna a common theng, te be sure. Why’d ye ask?”

“I heard some courtiers talking about it, and if I’m to be a Fae princess, don’t you think I should know what everyone is talking about…?” I ran my fingers down one of the bodices, hoping to seem interested in the clothes more than the binding.

“Aye me lady, aye. The bindin’ only happens durin’ a couplin’, which es when two Fae join their magic durin’ intimacy. The couplin’ doesna go wrong, per-say, but them magics like each other too much, ye see? They’re too powerful together, so the magics decide te never part. Theybind. And then the couple—their very souls—are bound fer eternity. For ef oneen the bindin’ es hurt, so es the other. And ef one en the bindin’ dies, well so does the other,” she said, giving her last few words the drama of a folklore reading for small children.

So it’s… a death bond? What in the bizarre Fae-Witch world?—

“From what I’ve heard, et can only be a High Fae, one w’ real old magic, that can bind. Ets also been said et can only happen between Salanti, but et happens so rare, ye see, I dinna know for sure.”

My head swam. “Howdoyou know for sure when a binding happens? And what is… salami?”

She laughed out loud, deep from her belly. “Well, salami es a cured cut a’ pork, ver’ good w’ cheese.Salanti,” she emphasized, “es a title. Et meansMatch—like yer soul’s twin.Ye canna know ef yer Salanti without a blood sharin’, which es part a’ the Matchin’ ceremony. Ef yer blood grows stronger together, then yer Match es true—and yer Salanti. Usually, ets quite romantic and ends en a marital pact, but not always. Et gives the two special abilities, ye see, te share thoughts an’ senses and the like.”

I furrowed my brow. The concept of romantic partnerships blessed by special abilities and cemented in sharing blood was unfamiliar—I didn’t think I learned about it as a child.Had Viturius and the Rexi been Salanti?

“Do you have a Salanti?”

Olea shook her head, her eyes wistful. “Ets rare. Not near as rare as a bindin’, but rare. Many search fer a proper Match an’ never find em’.”

“And the binding,” I prompted, directing her back to my unanswered question. “How do you know for sure if it’s done?”

“They say ye’ll know because each well have a little bet of the other—a special mark a’ some kind,” she answered. “Oh, mealmost forgot! Stay where ye are, I’ll be right back. Me hath a surprise for ye te wear tonight.”

Olea scurried out of the room, and I stood there, one hand on the bedpost, one hanging on my stomach, breathing in and out as slowly as I could to remain calm. I bunched up my chiffon skirt in one arm and folded the lace undergarment back with my other hand, extending my left leg forward. And sure enough, though I’d started to doubt my memory, one shimmering green Dragon scale lay imprinted there, right on top of my hipbone.

That explained my unnatural bruising. What Ezren felt, I felt. His pain was mine.

Now that Iknew its significance, the slight burning from the scale turned into more of a gentle searing sensation. I wondered how Olea hadn’t seen it before, but I guessed she wasn’t watching me all that closely when I stepped naked into the tub.

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