I nodded. Cai loped off and a comfortable silence fell. I finished the sugary bun and licked my fingers clean.
I felt Frazer’s eyes touch on me every now and again. The thread shimmering between us told me the rest. I needed to distract him from his lingering guilt and fear for me. “I don’t suppose you lot came up with a plan for how we take a lock of hair from a witch?”
“Why bother? Our plans don’t work anyway.”
The dark circles under his eyes told me the rest.
I gulped. The memory surfaced of that thing crawling underneath my skin. Not wanting him to feel it in the bond, I locked it away. And my chest grew tight, constricting with blood-ice terror.
My efforts to hide my fear from him amounted to nothing. Frazer grabbed my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “You got out. Thanks to this.”
His strong fingers released my face and lowered to brush against the droplet. He held onto it for a few seconds—long enough for his eyes to widen and his nostrils to flare. He blinked and dropped it as if it had burned him.
“Did she …”
A curt nod. He looked away, his body tensing. Whatever Auntie had said, had caused him to turn jumpy. On edge.
Frazer didn’t seem willing to say more. I didn’t push. Falling back against his shoulder, I said, “I’m sorry.”
“What have you got to be sorry for?” A sound of disbelief.
I almost smiled. “It’s not my fault, I know that. But if things had been reversed back there …” I suppressed a shudder. “And I’d had to watch the eerie do that to you, part of me would’ve hated you for it. Hated you for making me so scared; for making me care so much. Maybe it’s not the same for you, but if it is, I’m sorry for putting you through that.”
It was stupid and irrational, but it didn’t stop it from being true.
He was pressing his nose into my hair again, sighing. “I could never hate you, not really. But …”
Ah, the “but.”
“When I saw you … dying, it was … I never thought I’d feel fear like that again. But you’ve given me so much of yourself, all your memories—all of you. It’s been like absorbing a whole other person. So when that eerie crushed the air from your lungs, it felt like my heart stopped. Like it would stop the second yours did.”
The world tilted, went askew. I dared to utter, “That’s a bad thing, right?”
He shifted, dislodging me. I had to look him in the eyes or be branded a coward.
“No,” he began softly. “But you have to understand the magnitude of what you did, Matea. You gave me your whole life in an instant. You placed a level of trust in me that—” He stopped, his face gaunt.
My heart felt too big for my chest. I spooled myself back in. And failed. Frazer being in pain was the opposite of what I’d wanted.
“You’ve bonded us, Serena.”
A glitch of panic grew wings in my chest. “What kind of bond?”
Frazer barked a laugh. “Don’t worry. I haven’t developed romantic feelings for you. I’m aware your heart belongs to Wilder, or at least your lusty loins do.”
“Lusty loins …” I echoed.
Frazer and I burst out cackling. His laugh a low rattling purr, while mine killed my throat, but felt so good.
Frazer stopped first, his smile turning tight. That sobered me up quick. “Go on.”
“Fae bonds aren’t the same as human ones. They’re more intense. And it’s precisely because of our resistance to friendships that when one develops, we cherish and protect them above all else.”
He lapsed into silence. I felt like clucking my tongue but didn’t. Whatever he was trying to say, must be difficult for a reason. “Frazer?” It was the only prompt and sign of impatience I gave.
Frazer seemed flustered as he ran his fingers through his raven hair, leaving it messed at the back. The image caused a dull ache to flare in my chest. This must’ve been what he looked like after flying. “When you told me that you considered me to be like your brother, did you mean it?”
“Of course.”
He nodded, distant.
“Is something wrong?” My defenses slammed up.
His brow creased in thought. “There are three kinds of fae bond. Mating, kin, and guardian. And for a fae, whenever those connections are there, we strengthen them through a process called myena, which is an oath. We don’t take them lightly. In fact, I’ve only felt the inclination to say the words once before.”
I took a wild guess. “Lynx?”
His eyes deadened. Anguish sung through them, making my heart squeeze.
“Which bond did you share?” I wondered.
A curve of his lip. “We weren’t mates, if that’s what you’re implying. In the beginning, I wanted to be sworn to him as a champion and guardian of his court, but our friendship grew and turned into something else. We couldn’t officially become kin though. A prince and the offspring of a soldier isn’t an equal match. I had nothing to offer then, and I have even less now.”
Hesitant, lost eyes … Oh, stars. “Frazer …” I stopped to reel myself in again. “You have everything to offer.”
“You’ll do it?” His voice sounded strained, disbelieving.
I nodded and smiled.
Frazer smiled back freely.
“What d’you need me to do?”
“Mirror my actions. I’ll tell you when.” He unsheathed my Utem? and dragged the edge across his palm.
I winced as the blood welled. He raised his palm in front of me. “I need to place my hand on your forehead—is that okay?”
A nod. He put his hand there, marking me. He pulled away, slicing his other hand with the Utem?. This time he didn’t raise it to my forehead; he clasped my hand.
“Serena Smith,” he began gravely. “From this heartbeat until my last, I share your blood and bone, joy and grief. No words or acts could make me turn from you. You are my pack, my kin, my home.”
My vision blurred. I pushed against the weight settling on my chest.
“Ovet perheen nyx, ihuseti jai aina,” he recited.
I’d no idea what he’d said, but the sincerity emanating from him was enough for a tear to fall.
He grasped my wrist. “May I?”
I gave a quick nod and resisted the temptation to look away as he cradled my palm and drew the sword across quickly. A sharp pain, then a dull ache followed.
Frazer branded himself with my blood and let go of that hand only to prick my other palm. Encircling our hands, he said, “Repeat after me. Frazer Novak …”
I repeated the vow he’d made to me and even got through the fae tongue without faltering. That is until I reached “aina,” and a scorching heat broiled me. Clawing at my necklace, my fingers grasped the droplet. There was no heat. The burning was coming from within. As if my very ribs had become branded with the oath.
Frazer’s eyes flared wide, and he clutched at his own chest, choking a little.
The pain slipped enough for me to round on him. “You didn’t tell me that would happen.”
“That’s because I didn’t know,” he panted, his hand falling to his side. “If I had, I would’ve warned you. Sorry.”
Rubbing my chest, I took a breath and said, “Fine, but let’s not do that again for a while.”
A slow but pure smile radiated from him. “We won’t need to. We’re officially kin—siska.”
He gathered his sleeve in his palm and rubbed the blood from my forehead, and then his. Once done, I voiced, “Siska?”
“It means sister,” he answered. “Although, I’ll only call you that in private and through our bond.”
I braced myself against the dead log behind me. “How come?”
“Well, there’s no fae law against making the kin bond with a human …” There was a flicker of fear in his voice. It was obvious what was coming.
“But?” I waited for the blow to fall.
“We still shouldn’t go shouting about the fact we’ve done it.”
“Why?” Impatience snapped at my heels.
Frazer shrugged, but I sensed his discomfort though the thread. “Some fae hate humans on principle. If they found out that a fae bound himself to one, they might want to make an example.”