Page 13 of The Blood that Binds Us

They attacked. While I’ve been rotting in a cell beneath our feet, Legion stormed the stronghold—again. And clearly were unsuccessful given their leader now kneels in a crimson pool before the Black Art.

“That eager for another beating, Singard?”

Sin shakes loose a gravelly laugh. “Admit it, Cathal—you’re out of resources, out of bodies, out of time.” He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms as he stares down at the man that defiled my body. “You’re almost making it too easy to win. I rather enjoy a good fight. But I’ll bite—tell me, Cathal—why are your men outside my keep, starting a fight they cannot win?Please, enlighten me.”

“You have something of mine,” Cathal’s eyes flash to mine, “and I want it back.”

“Ah… yes. I suppose there is the matter of the witch. Whatcanwe do about that?” Sin begins to pace, his footsteps clacking against the stone floor with each measured step.

My blood pounds in my ears, my breathing turning ragged despite my attempt to remain calm, to not show a flicker of emotion in a room full of enemies. Even an apex predator knows when it is outnumbered.

“Give her to us and we’ll leave,” Cathal muses, his mouth twisting with dark amusement as if he knows his proposal will stoke the Black Art’s pride. The kingdom does not negotiate.

Sin’s footsteps come to a halt, the sudden silence in the foyer deafening as he stares at his feet, deliberating his next words. My heart races under Dusaro’s arm, exposing my panic under my mask of collectedness. I would rather throw my neck into Dusaro’s eager dagger than leave as Cathal’s bartered pet.

“Sure… I could hand her over… be rid of her and your miserable men out there.” His green eyes, now glistening with verdant wickedness, dart to mine. A smile equally as nefarious settles on his lips, and he takes a casual step towards me. “But I have a better idea.”

Suddenly his hands are on me—wresting me from his father’s grip—and he whirls me around his body, fitting one large hand around the base of my throat and wrapping the other across my chest like a steel band. A shaky yelp spills from my mouth before I can swallow it. I regret it instantly, but I swear his grip on my neck relaxes slightly.

Sin angles his head towards me, his breath a torrid caress along my nape. Gently, he drags the tip of his nose up my neck, all the way to the underside of my chin. I stop breathing, my palms sweating, every nerve in my body ordering for my magic to surge, and every one being struck down by the iron at my wrists. He holds us here, his mouth hovering inches above where my pulse pounds wildly in my throat, when he says in a voice soft as sodden roses, “You surrender… or I rip her throat out.”

My lips mash together, heat nearly radiating from my body as my power claws against its iron shackling. From my periphery, I glimpse as Sin parts his lips slightly, his teeth admiring the soft skin of my jugular.

“You won’t kill her,” Cathal calls his bluff, deviousness twinkling in his dark blue eyes like vicious stars. Goddess above, I hope heisbluffing, but my nostrils flare as the scent coming from Sin shifts into virile hunger.

“I swear on my life if you don’t surrender right now, I’ll rip her throat out with my own teeth,” he snarls, jerking me tighter against him.

Cathal lets out a low laugh, seemingly unaware of his own blood pooling around him. “You really think I’d call off my men to save that bitch’s life? You’re even dumber than I thought, Kilbreth.”

“Last chance, Cathal. I would love nothing more than to sit here and bear witness as you watch your love bleed out.”

“My love? Oh, now thatisgood,” he cackles, his words transitioning into a boisterous, manic laughter. “I wouldn’t love her if she was the last living thing to fuck. Kill her.” Cathal shifts his focus to me. “Don’t worry about your friends, Wren. We’ll take real good care of them,” he says with a wink.

My hands ball so tightly into fists, my nails prick my palms. “Don’t you fucking go near them,” I choke out under Sin’s grasp.

“That dark-haired sister of yours—wonder if her snatch is as tight as yours.”

My blood turns to lead, and I strain to look at Sin, the back of my head still forced against his shoulder. “Kill him. If you kill me, you fucking kill him too.”

Cathal grins, his lapis blue eyes sparkling as he licks his lips and laughs quietly to himself. He shifts his attention back to Sin. “It doesn’t surprise me the kingdom has resorted to using bloodwitches now.”

I stop breathing. His words echo in my head, each one promising swift death.

Bloodwitch.

With one final breath, I close my eyes—I refuse to let Cathal be the last thing I see before Sin delivers my fate. The kingdom does not spare bloodwitches—mages whose collectives are rooted so deep in bloodshed they cannot trust themselves to remain in control once they take a life. We absorb the energy of those we kill whether we want to or not, amplifying our power and making us stronger and harder to stop with each body that falls limp from our blood-stained palms.

“You let a bloodwitch into our home?” Dusaro asks with chilling calmness. “Such stupidity.”

Sin’s grip on my throat tightens slightly at his father’s comment, and heat ignites into a vicious necklace along my neck. I flinch from the sudden onset of pain, and the burning simmers out a moment later.And here I thought my father and I were the epitome of troubled relationships.Seconds tick by as I wait for him to banish Dusaro for his insult, to order for him to be taken to the dungeon or worse, but Sin remains a bronzed statue behind me.

There is no use in pleading for my life—there has never been bargaining with the kingdom, and even if there was, I’m not sure my life is one worth begging for. Not when it puts my sister, who will surely risk her own neck to save mine, in danger. My chest hardens to granite beneath him, but I can’t slow my pulse thudding against his hand, my body fighting for life even if my mind has accepted its demise. Seconds feel like minutes. My chest rising and falling in rhythmic breaths, a pendulum ticking down my final moments. Sweats beads along my nape, shoulders, lower back—just get it over with already.

“You wanted to weaponize her against us?” Sin breaks the thunderous silence.

“Had she cooperated a little more, it would have worked. Was a stellar plan, actually. But she’s a resistant bitch. She’s too big a liability anyway—better for both of us that she doesn’t remain alive.” Cathal’s too-casual tone sends a heap of red-hot coals tumbling through my core.

I grit my teeth as I wait for Sin’s dagger to send me to the next realm. Or maybe he wasn’t exaggerating when he threatened to rip my throat out. Is that how I’ll jump from this life into the next? Slipping from his grasp as I fall into a ruby puddle, thoughts of Cosmina and Eldridge and Morrinne pirouetting behind my eyelids as my heart gives out. It’s better than the alternative, I suppose. As much as I hate the kingdom for their prejudices against my family, I’d rather die by the Black Art’s blade than bleed under a Legion knife. With a steadying breath, I relax my shoulders and wait for death’s sweet, promising kiss.

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