Page 44 of Bonded By Thorns

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I stand so quickly, my chair clatters to the floor. I snatch her trembling hands away from the laces and they fall loose. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. It’s… You make me nervous.”

Her eyes widen until the whites show all around. “Imakeyounervous? You’re an otherworldly prince who lives in acastle. And you’re smart and nice to me—for some reason—and you’re, like, super hot and oh my god, I’ve said way too much…” She trails off, eyes down at the floor. With a mumble, she finishes, “I usually wear hoodies.”

A beat passes between us and I laugh. She raises a brow at me, then laughs too. “Why are we laughing?”

“I don’t know what a hoodie is,” I admit. “But it sounds ridiculous.”

“You don’t know what a hoodie is?” she cries. “Oh my god. I need to get you one. You’ll never go back to your waist coats and fancy vests and suspenders—” She slaps my chest softly, before resting her fingers over my collarbone.

“Farron,” she whispers and closes her eyes. “If it were up to you, would you set me free?”

Something deep within me snarls in my mind:No. Mine. Mine forever.But I shake my head, wavy strands of hair falling in front of my eyes. “Of course I would, Rosalina.”

She chews on her bottom lip. “What’s it like to know you have a mate out there, someone just for you?”

I let out a deep sigh and lean back in my chair. “I don’t know, honestly. As you’ve learned, mates are quite rare. It’s not something most of us grow up thinking about.”

“So, fae don’t wait around for their mates.” She runs a hand along the tattoo on her right wrist. “Do you get married like humans do?”

Grabbing a book from across the table, I flip it open to a page. An image bordered in flowers depicts a fae marriage. “In a fashion, yes. There are ceremonies to dedicate your life to another. Though they don’t have the same magic as a mate bond.”

“The magic.” Rosalina’s eyes widen. “The magic we’ve read about. Is it real? Hearing your mate in your mind, the sparkly feeling, the overpowering sexual urges—” Her face flushes.

“I don’t know.” My face grows hot as well. “Ezryn’s parents were mated. And I believe Kel’s grandparents. They may know a bit more about it.”

Rosalina rolls her eyes. “Like they’d ever talk to me.”

I continue to flip through the pages. “The lack of a mate bond doesn’t stop some rather wild fae from trying to mimic the magic with their own chosen partner. It can be quite dangerous.” I end on a page with swirling purple and green illustrations.

“Mimic the magic?” Rosalina asks.

I run my finger over the rough paper. “All fae have the magic of bargains, and some fae use them with their lovers to make a love pact. It could be as harmless as remembering to say ‘I love you’ every day or else you’ll sprout a white hair, or as grave as your own death if you ever strayed to the wayward lips of another.”

“Can the magic really do that?”

“Fae magic is powerful,” I explain. “The stronger the love, the stronger the bargain. These fae are desperate to recreate the power they glimpse in mates.”

Rosalina runs her fingers along the picture, then looks up at me. “Well, I hope when we find your mate, Farron, she’s everything you’ve ever dreamt of.”

How can she know I’ve been dreading that moment for years? But there’s such kindness in her words, I can’t help but smile. “Thank you, Rosie.”

She flushes. “Rosie?”

“I mean, Rosalina. Sorry, I—”

“No.” She grabs my hand, and I wonder if she can feel my racing pulse. “It’s cute.”

She blinks up at me, her eyes so wide. She’s the one that’s cute, that’s beautiful. I wonder what her lips taste like, the sound she’d make if I were to run my tongue along her neck…

She shifts closer. “You don’t deserve this life. You’re so good and kind. The Enchantress is truly evil.”

At the memory of the Enchantress, anger and shame and utter guilt roar up inside of me. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. I’m not like the rest of them who deserved it. Not like the one who betrayed his realm, or the one who abandoned it. Not like the one who misused his power.

And yet I am trapped here all the same.

“Farron? I’m sorry. I’ve said too much.” Rosalina turns around and rubs her arm.

“No, it’s—” As I’m about to decide if I should tell her about the night of the curse, a booming clatter arises from outside the library doors leading from the entrance hall.


Tags: Elizabeth Helen Fantasy