These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(11)

He tilts his head to the side. “For you, the problem goes deeper than the bond. It’s much more than being aware of your lover boy’s feelings.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“My point,” he says, ignoring my objection, “is that blocking him won’t free you from him.”

“Help me shut him out.”

Misha shakes his head. “It takes practice, fortitude, and empathic strength. You’re too weak for any of that at the moment.”

“Can you help me or not?” I snap.

“There’s no instant fix. Bathe, drink the tonic, and rest. The reprieve of sleep is the best I can offer in your current condition. I’ll see you when you wake.” He retreats to the hall, and I glare at his back until he closes the door behind him.

But slowly the pain fades. The echo of Sebastian in my head fades. He’s still there— always there —but quieter now.

Holly helps me into the bath, then leaves me. The warm water smells like fresh lavender, and my sore muscles slowly uncoil as I wash off the sweat and dirt from my capture and escape. The morning birds call outside the window and the water grows cool as the sun climbs above the horizon. All the while, I ignore the way this bond makes it feel as if Sebastian’s in the room watching me. Ignore the relief that washes over me when his pain subsides and his emotions settle.

He’s okay. He’ll survive.

Only once the last of the heat has seeped from the bathwater do I climb out of the tub and dry myself. A fresh sleeping gown waits on the foot of my bed, and I pull it over my head and crawl under the soft covers, curling onto my side.

I feel him in my mind, cradling me, holding me close. I want to shrug him off, but I don’t know how. I can’t deny that in this moment, while I weave in and out of sleep, my mind clinging to worry for the male I loved, there’s a comfort to this bond.

I drift off, wondering if he knows where I am. Wondering why he would care at all now that he has the crown.



My dreams drag me through violent ocean waves, put me back on the horse with my mother, riding away from that woman who scares me, and then drop me into a summer night before I can get my bearings.

The air is hot and sticky, and I can’t bring myself to go inside to Madame V’s cellar, where the air gets stale. I’m too beaten down tonight to look my little sister in the eye and pretend that I made today’s payment through hard work alone.

Stealing, even from the worst people, takes a toll on my heart and mind. I never intended to become a thief. Never thought I’d be sixteen and already so deep in debt that I understood why other girls my age ended up selling themselves to the fae.

I take a seat on the ground and look up at the stars. They’re not very bright tonight, but the sight still soothes me. I love the night. The sound of the frogs singing, the owls calling in the distance. It reminds me of a simpler time. When I didn’t know what it was like to have my sister depend on me, when I still wished on stars and had a mother to tell me fairy tales at bedtime.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl with blazing red hair who was destined to save a kingdom . . .

“How did I know I could find you out here?” Sebastian asks, stepping out from Mage Trifen’s back door. He’s so beautiful in the moonlight, his white-blond hair blowing softly in the breeze, and my heart tugs with longing for the mage’s apprentice.

“Maybe because I have no life, and if I’m not working or sleeping, this is where I always am?” I say, laughing. I didn’t think I wanted any company tonight, but seeing him makes me feel lighter. “I’m quite predictable.”

He crosses the courtyard and lowers himself to the ground beside me, leaning back on his elbows.

“Only in the best ways.”

I pull my gaze from the stars to flash him a smile and find him staring at me, his expression serious. “Bash?”

“This is the first time I wanted to kiss you,” he says. “I wanted it so badly.”

I frown at my secret crush, trying to make sense of this. “Wanted? What do you mean?”

Sebastian flickers in and out of my vision, like a reflection in a pond that disappears with a ripple only to reappear when the water settles. For a moment, a sparkling crown of stars sits atop his head, but I blink and it’s gone.

“You remember this night, don’t you? You were exhausted—you were always exhausted, but this night you stayed outside with me and told me about your mother. You confessed that you missed her and sometimes still dreamed about her coming home. Then you fell asleep right beside me.”

I shake my head. He’s not making sense. What night is he talking about? What he says is true, but I’ve never said it out loud.

He swallows hard. “I carried you to bed, and when you clung to me in your sleep, I knew I couldn’t do it. I knew I’d rather watch my mother die than betray you. But I ran out of choices.”

What is he talking about? I study his face—the sharp line of his jaw, his straight nose, his soft lips. Some unfamiliar boldness has me lifting my hand to his face. His skin is soft. Perfect. And I know exactly how it will feel to have that face buried in my neck, his body over mine . . .

He brings his hand to my face and cups my cheek, but my attention snags on a marking on the inside of his wrist. A rune tattoo I’ve never seen before—the match to mine.