Page 8 of My Blood Is Yours

The frown before me deepens into a scowl.

“Tell me how old I am.”

Sympathy strikes a chord within me. I would not wish for the burden of responsibility at his age. His brows lift, urging me on.

“Tell me, Sariel.”

Expelling a heavy breath, I reply. “Eight hundred sixty-four.”

He shakes his head, eyes fixing to some distant point as his voice softens. “Akash almighty,that’s even older than I thought.”

His gaze eventually slides back to mine. “Just… promise me in a few years, you’ll consider it.”

My throat works on a rough swallow. “Okay.”

With a nod, he attempts a hopeful smile. “Do you think she’ll be receptive to the shift?”

Anxiety spreads through my gut like poison in water. When a daemon consummates the bond with hissoulboundthrough sex and a claiming bite, if they are mortal or aminori—those with little to no magic, and thus, shorter lifespans—they become part daemon. They won’t suddenly sprout wings, but there will be some shift in appearance: growing fangs, pointed ears, perhapseven horns and claws. Their lifespan will match that of theirsoulbound—and will potentially live thousands of years. It also means that if theirsoulboundis killed or dies, so will they.

What’s just as daunting is that they will also need to consume blood on a fairly regular basis in order to sustain their magic and life force. They will also gain some portion of the magical potential their mate has, usually abilities that will compliment theirsoulbound.

“Who knows. I would imagine so, but she’s a human from Terrenea. I imagine what little she’s heard or seen of us has been reduced to the obscure and grossly exaggerated references made in fairytales or religion.”

My father nods in understanding. “Do not fear, my son. She is yoursoulbound. Akashwould not have coupled you with a mate who will reject you.”

It’s happened before.Though I don’t dare speak the words aloud, my heart squeezes in empathy for the poor souls who have suffered such a fate.Like Azrael.

As if he can read my mind, my father’s solemn gaze returns to mine.

“Did I ever tell you what Azreal said when he gifted themundrapedrato your great-great-grandmother?”

“Perhaps, but too long ago to remember.”

“That you create a karmic debt by manipulating the universe in such a way that you were not born with.”

“What?Why would he even give it to us then?”

“He said, ‘No matter the debt, there are some things worth suffering for, and there is no greater suffering than to live a lifetime without one’ssoulbound.’”

My face scrunches up in disbelief. “You’ve literally just proven my point.”

“Yes… I just thought I should make you aware of the potential consequences.”

Fearful hope sparks to life in my chest as my father’s expression softens, his black eyes filled with tenderness and love that would otherwise contradict his fearsome form.

“My darling boy...”

I am nearly a century old, but I don’t bother to correct him—eternally grateful for the fact that I couldn’t possibly have had more loving parents.

“For aeons, there have been countless others who found theirsoulboundwithout themundrapedra.I used it to find your mother, and now I have lost a son. Perhaps that is the balance of life. Do not forsake the magic of the universe by trying to force your limited perceptions upon it. Just because you don’t see how it’s possibledoesn’t mean that it isimpossible.”

No matter how true his words, the demand of the Summoning is unignorable. He studies me for a moment in understanding. He knows me well enough that if he does not give me themundrapedrahimself, I will either find a way to steal it or risk getting mixed up with a mage or seer that could lead me astray.

“Prepare your home for your mate. Return this evening, and your mother and I will give you themundrapedraand a drop from The Well of Tongues.”

While it doesn’t contain any actual tongues, a single drop of it will endow the one imbibing it with the ability to speak the language of every tongue.

Excitement unfurls inside me with the force of a cracking whip. In the next moment, I’m lunging toward my father to wrap my arms around him in gratitude. His chest tenses beneath mine, and I can clearly hear the rasping emotion rising in his voice. “Just promise me you’ll come home to us.”

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