Magnificent. Brave. Compassionate. Glorious. Breath-taking.
He could have filled every page in his library and still not come close to capturing the wonder that was Cathy. Somehow, though, he didn’t think any of those adjectives were what the kelpie meant.
He scoured his extensive vocabulary, and drew a complete blank. “She’s… Cathy.”
“Sea and salt,” Neifion muttered. “It takes a genius to be this dense. Then again, given how you reacted to the steed thing, maybe it’s better you don’t realize.”
“Realize what?”
“Oh, nothing.” Neifion waved a dismissive hand. “Let’s try another tack. Aodhan, when you fucked the lovely lady—oh, don’t give me that look, her scent’s all over you. Was that just because of some stupid bond? Did magic drag you kicking and screaming into her bed?”
He bristled at the suggestion. “Of course not.”
“And given that you are a monumental bore who can alter clothes into any imaginable hue and yet still chooses to dress in sackcloth the color of mud, I’m assuming you didn’t dally with the lady just for the pleasure of getting your wand wet.” Neifion’s eyebrows abruptly shot up. “Hey, I’m not judging. Kelpie, remember? No need to get huffy.”
Aodhan hadn’t realized he’d drawn his wand. He thrust it back into his belt. “Is there a point to this line of inquiry, or are you simply looking for salacious second-hand thrills?”
“Oh, I don’t need to get those second hand.” Neifion leaned back, crossing his legs at the ankle. “So, you made sweet, sweet love to the lady daily and nightly and ever so rightly, and it meant something. She meant something. To you. She still does.”
The phantom scent of roses filled his mind. He let out a long, slow breath. “Yes.”
“Well then.” Neifion rolled his eyes again, even more extravagantly. “If everything you felt and did was real, then why do you think some ritual can undo it? Do you seriously believe you can just wave your wand and stop loving her?”
“I,” Aodhan started—and stopped.
He did love her. The realization came, not as a flash of insight or a divine revelation, but as though it was something he’d always known. Like he’d been staring at a page, bleary-eyed, and had finally focused on the words. The truth had been right in front of his face the whole time.
Neifion was watching him. The kelpie nodded, like a tutor with a slow student who’d finally, after weeks of practice, managed to create a spark.
“You can sever the bond.” Neifion tossed Aodhan the iron pyrite, his mouth curving in a bitter smile. “But take it from a kelpie. No magic can change someone’s heart.”
Aodhan stared down at the rock in his hand. He tightened his fist around it, sharp facets pressing into his palm. The impure iron burned against his skin; uncomfortable, almost to the point of pain.
The kelpie was right. Oh, he could still do the ritual. Break the bond, silence the Call forever. But he would never be free of her. No matter how much he tried to block Cathy out, she would always be in his heart.
Maybe those memories would fade, in time. He could go back to his books and search for peace amongst the pages. Even the deepest wounds eventually scarred over. Perhaps one day he would be able to breathe in the scent of roses, and smile in fond recollection.
Remember what you’ve always wanted, Cathy had written.
But that was the wrong question.
He’d wanted independence. He’d wanted control over his own fate. He’d told Cathy in anger and despair that he didn’t have a choice, so she’d found a way to give him one. It was right here, in the palm of his hand.
The bond hadn’t made him love her. Cathy had done that. She’d given him her trust and her body; her strength and her fears. In the darkness of the night, she’d shared the pain of her past, and leached the bitterness from his own. She’d held him in her arms and ridden on his back and he could not deny now that both had been glorious. He’d unlocked the part of her that she’d never known, and in return, she had seen him truly, for all that he was—not only man, not only steed, but both.
I will always—and he knew now what she’d written, and scratched out. He held the evidence in his palm, sharp-edged and painful.
She’d loved him enough to leave. To give him what he’d always wanted.
A choice.
So the real question was: What did he want now?
And to that, there was only one answer.
Winding back his arm, he launched the fool’s gold into the air. It soared in a long, shallow arc, far out into the lake. It plunged into the glimmering water, disappearing without a trace.
Aodhan turned, only to discover Neifion regarding him with a faint air of disapproval. “What?” he snapped at the kelpie. “After that little speech, you can’t tell me you thought I should break the bond.”