Page 28 of The Blood that Binds Us

“What else?”

I cross the room, letting the heels of my shoes clack a little louder than necessary with each step, and gaze out the inlaid window. Not wanting to reveal my hand just yet, I say, “Nothing. But it was hard for him to say much else while trying to slip his tongue into my mouth.”

I study his reflection in the glass window. An unamused smile crosses his face, and he runs a hand through his long hair. Someone with less experience reading others may have missed it, but the slight clench of his jaw does not escape my notice.

“If you have nothing useful to report, why are you in my study?”

I step away from the window and slowly walk towards him, not stopping until I’m about a foot from where he still leans against the desk. “What information do you have regarding my family? I upheld my half of the arrangement—it’s only fair you now tell me what you know.”

He rolls his head forward slightly and rests his bronzed hands on the desk behind him. “I don’t recall that being part of my bargain.” His words are coated in that soft, disinterested tone he has perfected.

“Then release me so I may protect them myself.”

“You know the law, little witch.”

The one that states bloodwitches must be executed. But by Sin keeping me alive, he’s already breaking his own precious law.

I take a step closer to him. Even in my heeled shoes, the Black Art is still taller than me. The warm glow of the candle light casts flickering shadows on his deep reddish-brown cheek, and I tilt my chin up when I whisper, “You are the law.”

Sin stares down at me from under those dark eyebrows, his green eyes, darker in the dim lighting, searching both of mine.

I don’t wait for him to respond before I say, in a voice soft as crushed velvet, “If you plan on keeping me alive to use me in yourgenocide, I suggest you plan again, Blackheart. I’d never cross my own family.”

A smile positively disturbing crosses his face before he wipes it with another pull from his wine glass and sets the cup back down with more force than necessary. “I see Langston did have more to say, after all.” Sin pushes off the desk, ascending to his full height, and takes a measured step towards me. Brushing his chest against my shoulder, he slowly circles me until he stands at my back.

I jump when his hands suddenly gather my unbound hair and move it so it falls in front of my shoulders. His breath warms the now bare skin where my shoulder meets my neck, and I can almost hear his head shaking as he tsks softly. “If you’re not of any use to me alive, Wren, where do you think that leaves us?”

I steel my spine. “I’m afraid you’ll have to kill me, Your Grace. Well… you cantry.”

The warmth on my neck vanishes as if he stopped breathing. And then it returns as he lazily traces two fingers down the side of my throat, and I nearly flinch from the contact. His low voice a caress in my ear, he asks, “Did you just threaten me?”

I will my pulse to stop thudding under his touch and fail miserably. “Yes.”

His fingers invert so that he now brushes my neck with the backs of his knuckles. “Threatening your Black Art is punishable by death,” he reminds me.

Don’t lose your nerve now.“Are you going to punish me, Your Grace?”

He spins me around before I can react and grabs both my wrists, clamping them together inside one of his too-large hands. Sin yanks my viced arms above my head, and I flail wildly in his grip, a guttural sound promising vengeance ripping from my chest.

“You need to submit,” he growls in my ear, his voice low and predatory.

Submit?Submit!

“I’m not your fucking pet.”

“You are now. On your knees.” He slams his other hand onto my shoulder, forcing me to kneel before him.

My words come out simmering with the same heat I send flying from my hands. “Get. Off. Of. Me.”

He swears as the sudden rush of heat burns his palm, and he drops my wrists in recoil. I fall to my backside and throw my arms over my head, preparing for a blow that doesn’t come. Instead, he grabs my arms and yanks me to my feet. Before I can get another rush of magic out, an invisible force sends me flying, and my back slams into the far wall, the impact sending books toppling out of the nearby bookcase. Sin, looking like darkness incarnate, stands in front of me, arms outstretched in front of him, keeping me pinned against the wall with his translucent wind.

Suddenly, I can’t breathe.

His face betrays no signs of remorse as the air whooshes from my lungs and his magic constricts my airway. My hands claw at my throat, as if I could fight off the invisible attacker, and I fumble for my collective. The pressure on my windpipe increases, and my collective slips through my mental fingers. I reach for it again, and again, but I might as well be grasping at air. Black spots invade my vision, my head falls forward, the fight dissolving from me as my body goes limp, until I don’t have the strength to reach for it again. My hands drop to my side as his magic chokes out the last of my resolve. His power… too strong… I’m going to die against this wall, my strangled breaths singing me to eternal sleep.

I fall to the floor.

As fast as it swept my feet out from under me, the phantom wind pinning me to the wall vanishes. My lungs croak as air swells them once more, and I press my hand to my chest as if touching it will allow me to suck in air faster. When my wheezing returns to normal breaths, I look up and find him leaning against the desk again, arms back to being folded tight across his black shirt. Sin’s eyes are brighter now—a lighter green with flecks of yellow around the pupils, an effect of wielding magic. I’m sure mine are glowing vibrant gold now rather than their usual walnut brown.

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