Page 1 of Bound and Beguiled

Chapter One

Please, any god that’s listening, I need a place to park...

Hot tears of relief blurred my vision as I twisted the wheel, bringing the car to a jerky stop outside Katarina’s house. I slumped back, breathing in rapid pants as the emotions I’d been pushing down crashed over me.

Betrayal. Grief. Rage. Shame. Disbelief. Confusion. The storm buffeted me, magnifying the pain radiating from my abdomen, leaving me bloody and battered down to my already tarnished soul.

The banshee wail of my mother’s ringtone cut through my wallowing. Instinctively I jerked away, gasping as the abrupt movement stabbed fresh knives into my womb. The silenced phone wailed again, and I welcomed the rage that kindled to life at this newest violation. Anger was easy.

“This is a new low,” I sneered, jamming my finger against the speaker icon. “Enchanting a phone to circumvent a block is illegal, Mother.”

“You left me no choice,” my mother snipped haughtily, ignoring the bitter laugh I didn’t try to hold back. “You’ve been ignoring my calls for two days. You’re an adult, Tereza. Too old to be throwing a tantrum like this.”

“A tantrum?!” Shock left me momentarily speechless.

“Yes! You didn’t get the attention you felt you deserved, so you’re punishing us! Making up wild stories about impossible pregnancies and being held hostage—Ymet’s tears, when did you get so dramatic?! Katarina’s influence, no doubt. She should have been shunned when she removed her bands. No good ever came from associating with oath breakers.”

“Don’t you dare—” I started, only to be drowned out by my mother’s insistent ranting.

“I’ve held my tongue because I didn’t want to hurt you, Tereza, but I see now that I was wrong. This delusion has gone too far. You are not a beautiful woman. You have to accept that. Franklin is an honorable man, and he will do right by you, but a relationship goes both ways. You can’t expect him to dote on you like some sort of storybook princess when you don’t even try. By the oath, Tereza, be reasonable! Every month I send you makeup, articles, pretty dresses, and what do you do? Give them away!”

I stared at the phone in bafflement as the tinny sounds of her tirade bounced around the car. It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t believe me—her dismissal was why I’d blocked her two days ago—but to go so far as to concoct an alternate reality like this? Wild.

“Tereza! Are you listening to me?”

“Honestly, no.” The words slipped out without thought. I clamped a hand over my mouth, holding back a hysterical giggle as she screeched in frustration.

“Tereza.” My mother was at the end of her patience now, the words strained as they pushed past obviously clenched teeth. “You will end this foolishness. No more talk about leaving the Covenant. No more punishing Franklin for your own failings. And no more lies! I expect you home by the morning. Franklin—saint that he is—has already forgiven you, and the binding ceremony is arranged for the end of the month. There will be plenty of apologies to take up your time until then, and Ymet knows you could use a cycle or four of dedicated prayer.”

Panic pricked the edges of my vision. The bruises stiffening my hands throbbed, ghostly echoes of my own desperate cries and the hollow pounding of my fists ringing in my ears. Around my wrists, the golden bands of my faith grew heavy until they felt like shackles, old promises tying me to new misery.

A tap at the window broke through the spiral, snapping me back to the present. Katarina stared down at me, mouthing my name.

I got out, I reminded myself. And I’m done letting other people run my life. The glass was cool against my palm, and when Katarina’s hand rose to mirror mine, determination stiffened my spine. I grabbed hold, pushing that strength into my voice as I replied, “How convenient that you’re used to me disappointing you. I’m not coming back, Mother. I will never bind myself to Franklin. If I have my way, I’ll never so much as speak to him.”

“Don’t be foolish—”

I cut her off, full of steam once again. “While we’re on the subject, I’m not ready to talk to you either. If you try to go around my block again, I’ll report you. Think of the scandal.” I tsked over the sounds of her incoherent rage, even as tears fell unhindered down my cheeks. “Don’t call. Don’t text. If you can’t respect me that much, I will cut you from my life entirely.”

“This is ridiculous—”

I swiped to end the call; the resulting silence broken only by the wet, ragged sounds of my breathing. Then the car door jerked open, and Katarina pulled me into her arms. I curled around her, grief bursting from me in racking sobs.

We stayed that way for a small eternity—her kneeling on the pavement and me half hanging out of my car—until my tears finally stopped. Katarina rubbed my back in slow, soothing circles and desperate gratitude squeezed my chest. Together, we managed to drunkenly stumble upright.

“Did I hear that right? Did you just tell your mom to fuck off?” Katarina’s voice was thick with her own unshed tears, but wicked delight sparkled in her eyes.

“Pretty much,” I laughed, scrubbing the soggy tear tracks from my cheeks.

“Atta fucking girl!” she crowed. “Oh, man, I wish I could’ve seen her face. Want to bet she got all red and splotchy?”

I snorted, then winced.

Katarina cupped her hand around my elbow, murmuring, “Come on, let’s get inside.” Looking over her shoulder, she called out, “Sid, baby, would you grab her bag?”

I snapped my attention up, searching for the woman who’d made my unflappable, relationship-averse cousin spout sonnets to the joy of couple—throuple?—dom. She was not hard to locate.

Close to six feet tall and leanly graceful, Sid stood protectively between us and the passing cars, shadow tentacles undulating around her as she glared down a driver who veered a bit too close. Her expression eased into a warm, welcoming smile as she met my gaze, shimmering violet eyes striking against the depth of her brown skin.

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