Page 77 of The Blood that Binds Us

“We have safe houses set up for the entire city. You would be protected,” Sin placates.

“And what of after? Sure, you can rebuild our homes with your fancy tools and all that coin, but some of us don’t have the means to get back what we must leave behind. I’ve been out of work for months because no one will pay me because of what I am. Because of the prejudicesyourpeople created,” she says, yanking one of her arms free and jabbing a finger at Sin.

“Enough of this—lock her away until we have time to deal with herappropriately,” Dusaro says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“What skills do you possess?” Sin asks, unphased by the woman’s spiteful tongue and ignoring his father’s remark.

“I’m a healer. I owned an apothecary, but once everything went to Hell, folks stopped coming around, and I lost the business. Ironic, isn’t it? I have enough herbs and tonics in my home to heal an entire army, and you’re going to let them go up in smoke as your men bleed in the name of vengeance.”

“The healing temple can always use more skilled hands. Temporary medic tents have been set up outside the city for now—take her there and ensure she’s properly paid for her labor. Make sure the child has something to eat upon arrival,” Sin says to the guards. Turning his attention back to the woman, he adds, “The kingdom sponsors all supplies for those on the payroll.”

She clicks her tongue. “You’re delusional if you think they won’t oust me as soon as they find out what I am.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

She looks at him with a dazed look and in her hesitation, Sin addresses the guards at her side again. “Tell them nothing more than she’s a skilled healer and is being placed at the temple by special assignment of the Black Art. They don’t need to know where her magic comes from or what activities she partakes in in her own time. Is that understood?”

They nod, and each mirror a salute before escorting the woman away, her scowl now melting into disbelief. When Sin turns his back to her and mounts his steed, relief colors her cheeks, and she scoops up her daughter, now walking with the kingdom guards willingly.

As Sin settles back in the saddle, Dusaro tsks with a shake of his head, his long braids bouncing with the movement. “You’re too soft, boy.”

With a slap of the reins, I catch up to them and fall in line next to Sin. I study his profile and note the hard set of his jaw as if he’s trying really hardnotto look at me. I don’t know if he spared the woman out of mercy, or because he feared I would make good on my vow to expose him should he continue feuding with transcendent-kind. But it doesn’t matter.

The right choice was made.

I’m not asleep when I hear the light knocking on the other side of my door. It’s been two days since evacuations finished in Blackreach and scouts reported Legion is lingering in Autumnhelm, just beyond the bridge. If they stay on target, they’ll make their move tomorrow, so retiring to my chambers a couple hours before the sun set fully seemed responsible, though I haven’t been able to sleep.

Snapping my fingers to light the candles seated in the wall sconces, I sit up and tuck the sheets in around my legs. One downward glance, and I regret not having closed the balcony doors before lying down, my charcoal nightdress clinging to my nipples that have hardened into tight points from the cool breeze blowing into the room. I unlock the door with my magic, and it groans as it swings inward.

Sin envelops the threshold. The fire crackling softly in the sconces provides just enough light for me to get a good look at him. He wears a loose-fitting white shirt with a deep neckline, exposing the smooth, sculpted planes of his tan chest. Fitted black pants hug his powerful thighs, and his shoulders nearly brush the doorway on either side of him. He closes the door behind him, and his eyes instantly take in my attire, lingering a few seconds longer where my nipples threaten to tear through my nightdress.Stupid kingdom silk.

Sin tears his ogling stare away from my chest to meet my own and crosses the room, the floor creaking softly under the weight of his black boots. He sits on the foot of the bed. “I wanted to give you something before tomorrow.”

He slips a hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a small black vial. Its scent invades my nose immediately, and my mouth goes dry as the damp floral aroma caresses my lips, my tongue, my throat. He grabs my hand and slips the bottle into my palm, wrapping my fingers closed around it.

“Your blood,” I breathe. I open my hand and run a thumb along the vial’s surface. There is a braided rope he cinched around it, making it fit to be worn as a necklace.

“I know it isn’t the same as shedding it yourself, but it’s still a fresh source of goddess-blessed blood should you find yourself in need of more power tomorrow.”

I stare at him wide-eyed. “Do you know how dangerous it is to give a bloodwitch something like this?” Having but a drop of someone’s blood grants me power over them, a direct link to their collective, and the Black Art has just given me abottleof his.

His eyes dart between both of mine. “I trust you… Wren,” he whispers, and my heartbeat quickens at the sound of my name on his tongue.

I thumb the vial and resist the urge to pop its lid and inhale deeply. Inhalehim. The mere thought of it heightens my arousal, and I clench my thighs together in reflex. If he was serious about being able to smell my…

Goddess save me from this embarrassment.

Did he just smirk? Sin stands, a wicked grin on his mouth, and his hands move to the waist of his trousers. “I have something else for you too.”

He unsheathes a sword from his hip I don’t recognize as one of his own. It’s smaller than the ones I’ve seen him spar with, its hilt designed for a slighter hand, but its blade honed to the same lethal perfection as any of his. He holds it out to me, pommel first. I accept it eagerly and study the intricate swirling pattern carved into it. It rests snugly in my hand—a perfect fit.

“It’s beautiful,” I say with awe in my tone.

“I had my best smith on it. I would have made it myself, but I haven’t had the time.”

“You forge?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “A hobby. When my mind is spinning, I like to keep my hands moving.”

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