Page 36 of The Blood that Binds Us

Four sets of eyes snap to mine the second I step through the door. Everyone, excluding Sin and Eldridge, sits in a circle around the fire crackling and spitting in the center. Galen jumps up and sprints to crush me in another rib shattering hug, and his mother smiles warmly at me from behind him. Zorina’s hazel eyes look brighter than they did last night, shadowed by her thick golden hair, locks that Galen surely inherited from her.

Theon rises from the sideways log he shares with his mother and opens his arms towards me. Theon is Morrinne’s only biological child, but if our appearances didn’t give it away, no one would suspect the rest of us weren’t related by blood. I don’t hesitate pulling him in tight, wrapping my arms around his lean body and inhaling the smell of moss and wood from his worn clothing. He pulls out of the hug to hold me at arm’s distance, assessing me from head to toe.

“Gods, I’ve missed you, Wren. You okay?” he asks.

I shrug my shoulders. “I’m alive,” I offer. “I’ll be better once we find Cosmina.”

He nods in agreement, his short wavy black hair bouncing with the movement.

“Eldridge?” I ask, noting his absence. Sleep found me quickly last night, but not before Eldridge slipped into Cosmina’s bed next to mine.

“He took off this morning after most of us were awake and could keep an eye on you. He was rather… grumpy today,” Zorina answers.

I don’t blame him. If our positions were reversed, I would think he was a damn fool to return to Scarwood, to the Black Art that openly discriminates against both our kinds. I would think he was a coward for not holding his ground, to go back without a fight, and I would do everything I could to convince Eldridge to let us help him. I don’t expect him to understand that I will not—Icannot—agree to fight for my life if it means jeopardizing theirs.

“Has anyone seen Roarke?” I ask, not comfortable with the thought of both Eldridge and Sin out in the woods alone where they may cross paths. Although if that had happened, I’m sure we would haveheardthe altercation.

As if he was watching and heard me, Sin steps out of the shadowed woods and saunters towards me, his eyes on mine and mine alone, seemingly unaware of the others now staring at him. The top few buttons of his shirt are unfastened, exposing the smooth, deeply tanned planes of his chest, and his black trousers hang low on his waist. His hair is tousled like he tried sleeping somewhere last night, but the tinge of purple under his eyes indicates he was unsuccessful.

Without a word, I abandon the plate of food Morrinne had handed me and rise to my feet. I motion with my head for Sin to follow and head back into the cabin, neither of us addressing the other until he closes the front door behind him. When the door clicks into place, I look over my shoulder at him.

“You need to eat. I can bring you a plate, but every crumb you spill in my bed is a clump of that pretty hair I’m yanking out of your head,” I say, pointing to his inky locks with my chin.

“I don’t require food.”

I turn to face him, a hand finding my hip. “I guess it’s different inside your fancy castle, but here, when someone offers you something to eat, you say thank you. We don’t offer a meal out of obligation, we do it out of kindness.”

He stares at me blankly, and I blow out a breath. Explaining kindness to the Black Art is like trying to start a fire with rain-soaked wood and no magic to conjure one. The stairs creak under my bare feet as I lead him to the second story and slap my hand on my bed, still unmade from last night’s sleep. “I sleep here. You’re welcome to use it—the others don’t come up here during the day.”

Sin reaches for the few remaining buttons on his shirt and begins undoing them, shrugging out of the clothing when the last one pops free. I divert my eyes, suddenly finding fascination in the dark blue sheets of my sister’s bed.

“Get some rest, Blackheart. I’ll make sure no one disembowels you while you sleep.”

I leave him, only to return a few minutes later with a dinner plate I loaded with eggs, potatoes, and orange slices. Even though I directed him to use it, the sight of the Black Art in my bed unnerves me. He faces away from me, the creamy tan sheets tucked under his arm, his long, tangled hair splayed out around him on the pillow. His light snoring tells me he isn’t pretending to be down, so I leave the plate on my bedside table for when he wakes and tiptoe back down the stairs.

* * *

“There’s something off about your friend,” Zorina says to me as I shovel breakfast into my mouth.

“He’s not my friend. I’m being held captive, remember?” I say with forced lightness in my tone.

She shakes her head, her straw-colored hair bouncing with the movement. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“Me either,” Theon chimes in. “He watches you like… like he’s waiting for something.”

Waiting for me to try to flee, perhaps. Or maybe he took my threat to slit him ear-to-ear more seriously than I thought. Good. He should.

“I can handle him,” I grumble.

“But can Eldridge?” Morrinne asks. “I can already see one more remark from that fair-haired friend of yours and your brother’s temper is going to go flaring.” She tsks quietly to herself.Fair-haired. Glad to see the tonics are working as planned.

“You can hardly blame him, Mama, with the Rut around the corner,” Zorina defends.

The Rut.Has that much time really passed? Each spring, transcendents across Aegidale gather for an annual outdoor celebration to honor their heritage. It’s common belief amongst shifters that they all relate to Slaine, the first transcendent and the god of hunt and rebirth, in one way or another, believing it is he who chooses who to bestow the gift of transcendence upon. Legend claims the Rut marks the first day Slaine shifted, and the effect it has on transcendents is similar to that of deer in rutting season. They become agitated, irritable, and eager to hunt or fuck anything with a pulse.

“The Rut affects me too, child, and you don’t see me storming off into the woods muttering about ripping people’s heads off and pissing down their necks.”

Lovely. I don’t hate that I was asleep when Eldridge took off this morning, and apparently in quite amood,it seems.

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