Page 46 of Bound By Blood
PRISM
Erryn peeked out through the windows at the almost-full moon. He was late tonight. Was everything all right?
The stars glistened in the sky, bright as illuminated diamonds in a bed of midnight-blue velvet. Even now, the air smelled of the rich autumn meadow flowers in their final days as well as woodsmoke and the hay harvested from the fields to the south and west. The cool breeze fluttered the curtains.
An anticipatory heaviness hung over Erryn. She had already chopped all the onions, carrots, celery, parsnips, and other vegetables for the soup, even though she hadn't fully decided what type it should be. Vegetable something, clearly.
What had happened?
The door clicked open.
Her heart leaped.
Buttons trotted to the door, barking, his ears pricked forward.
Ryul stepped through. He glanced to her, his face lighting up at once. That big smile on his face warmed her through. Then he bent and pet Buttons. "Didn't realize it would take me so long to get here tonight," he said.
"As long as you're all right."
She hugged herself. Her stomach was all aflutter. For now, his being safe was really all that mattered, wasn't it? Everything else was up in the air. Where was she going to go from here? Could she trust him with the wish? She couldn't answer those questions. But she wanted him to be all right. To be happy and safe. Even though she couldn't really believe that his happiness would involve remaining with her.
"I want you to be all right."
His smile went crooked, making her stomach flip again. "I'm more than all right." Straightening, he stepped inside and closed the door. "But there is something I need to say. Something I realized and that I've wanted to say all week, and I just ask that you hear me out."
She braced herself. Of course he'd reached that conclusion. Whatever he had to say, it was going to hurt. If he was smart, he was going to tell her that they could not be together. It wasn't wise. Nothing against her. Just—someone like him with so much ahead of him and so much change could not risk being tied down to someone like her who was—static.
Yes. Even if what she had done was forgivable—even if that could be set aside—they were entirely separate beings from entirely different backgrounds. Even if she did say those words and allowed him to request any wish, his truest desires, when spoken, would not reflect her. And that would just put her at more risk. Really, for both of their sakes, this was best.
She could practically hear him saying the words, and tears misted in her eyes as she prepared. It had to be this way. She was going to go back to being alone and wandering, but at least this way, she wasn't going to wound anyone else.
He fidgeted, shifting his weight and scratching the back of his head before he looked into her eyes and squared his shoulders. "Like we agreed, I have been thinking a great deal about our situation, and I have come to a conclusion. I know that this wish business is terrifying. That for anyone who is intelligent, it should be addressed with extreme caution. After what happened to you with fae bargains, I cannot blame you for being uneasy. So I have been conducting my own research. Quinn isn't pleased with me, but that hasn't kept me from finding what I think is a solution."
"A solution?" Her brow tweaked. That wasn't what she had expected.
He placed a small grey box on the counter. Stepping back, he folded his arms. "It would take quite a lot of self-control to never say certain words that you feel. I don't need to hear you say them. Your actions—the way you look at me—all of that is more than enough. And right now, it probably would be dangerous for you to say them. You'd have to trust me in a way that is far too much to ask right now. So this is for you. It isn't a bargain or a trade. It's just a gift that might prove useful."
Frowning, she lifted the lid. Inside lay a rose-gold necklace with a heavy prism. "It's beautiful."
Even in this low light, it sparkled, sending gold and pale-pink fractures of light across the room. What was it for, though?
He placed a small pot of ink and a narrow quill on the counter. "It's something someone in my family found a long time ago. They stuck it in a box with some notes. Apparently, it binds words or phrases. You write the phrase out on the prism in this ink. And as long as you wear it, you can't say that phrase. It can be a little uncomfortable to wear if you really want to say those words. But as far as Quinn and I can tell, it's just a suppressive. It doesn't draw power from you beyond the initial words, and you can take it off in between if you would rather not wear it."
If he had brought this, then…
She picked the box up and studied it. "So you still want to be with me? After everything—even if I can never say what I feel exactly?"
His smile softened. "The only other thing I have wanted more is to have my family back. And you don't have to use this or keep it. Because you're right. I could be jumping ahead. I don't know what you've decided. You may have concluded that it is far too dangerous to be involved with someone like me. And if that's what you decide, that's all right. I love you. I love you, and I accept you as you are."
His words sliced into her like a blade, piercing through her and pinning her in place. The way he said those words—his voice firm but heavy with emotion. She felt them within her as if he spoke them straight into her heart.
"Over the years, you and I will both change," he continued. "It is what living does to everyone. There is no guarantee aside from our words and our vows to one another to be faithful. And those can, of course, be broken. But, for what it is worth, I mean these words with every fiber of my soul and every breath in my being. Yes, I am a blood fae, and yes, I have several changes ahead of me and much to learn and many new ways in which to grow. What won't change is the fact that I love you. I have been working on what wish I would make to honor our love and bind us if you should ever decide that you can trust me enough to make that wish. But even if you can never say it, please know that I love you. That I will always love you."
Her cheeks and neck burned. She brushed her fingertips over the prism, her other hand cradling the box. Could it be this simple? Could something that seemed too good to be true actually be true?
"We're both lonely," she whispered hoarsely. "Cold beds and empty arms could push you to make a bad choice for your future. You may find after you are less lonely that you will change your mind."
It wasn't hard to imagine that he would have been quite lively at parties and would have quite the social life if his magic ever returned and he was able to go back to his home. The way he had kissed her both those times had been pure ecstasy. It wouldn't be long before he found someone else.
