Page 50 of Treasured

Genevieve looked between us both, her black eyes shrewd. “Long ago, when Isvana first created the children of the moon, she was determined to bless them.”

The priestess made a religious sign across her chest, which Sebastian repeated. “Thank Isvana for her many blessings,” he murmured.

“I know of shadows and wings,” I said, glancing at the two of them. “What other blessings exist?”

“The Maker’s bond,” Genevieve replied. “Forged between vampires and those who gave them the gift of immortal life, it provides children of the moon with a connection that surpasses nearly everything else in the land.”

I nodded, listening intently. “That makes sense.”

Isvana seemed to be fond of her children, and her desire for them to be connected was logical. I was certain Sebastian and I had this bond as well, but the Tether between us was so strong it must have made the Maker’s bond seem like child’s play.

The priestess picked up a paperweight shaped like a bat, running her fingers over the carved edges. “Most of the time, people don’t want to break their bond with their Maker.”

Most of the time, Makers weren’t pure evil.

I didn’t realize I had spoken out loud until Sebastian’s hand tightened around mine. Genevieve looked up, her eyes widening as her mouth fell open. She blinked, bewilderment etched onto her countenance.

Shit.

My mouth always got me into trouble. Just once, I’d like to get through a conversation without saying something completely ridiculous and potentially life-endangering. We needed Genevieve’s help. I didn’t want to scare her away from helping us.

After a moment, the priestess cleared her throat. “I suppose that would make things… difficult.”

She did an admirable job of not speaking ill of her queen, despite the fact that the Second Order of Isvana’s Chosen was clearly unhappy with her. They were harboring us, after all. It seemed Genevieve was smarter than me because my mouth seemed to know no limits.

Sebastian gave me a warning look, and his voice rang through my mind. Really?

I widened my eyes. It wasn’t on purpose.

He scoffed. It’s never on purpose with you, Luna.

Turning back to the priestess, Sebastian spoke out loud. “The bond needs to be broken. For reasons that are best left unsaid for your safety, I need to be free of it.”

A long moment passed as the priestess studied us. “I understand.”

Her eyes flickered, and for a moment, I thought perhaps she did understand. What had the priestess seen throughout her life? What was her own Maker like? I had many questions, but instead, I asked, “What do we have to do?”

Genevieve put down the paperweight. “Forging a key will not be easy.”

“That’s not exactly surprising.” Everything in Eleyta was difficult. It was the nature of life in this frozen kingdom. “Let me guess; it’ll be dangerous, too?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Again, not a surprise.

“So making a key is a difficult, dangerous task. Sounds about right.” Sebastian sounded as resigned as I felt. “Is there anything else we need to know?”

“There is also the matter of severing the bond.” The priestess placed her hands flat on the desk. “The consequences of such an act are… unknown.”

The tone of her voice was dark, and my heart sped up. “What do you mean?”

She sighed. “Breaking a Maker’s bond is not typical. In the history of vampire kind, very few have attempted such a thing.”

“That’s shocking,” I muttered.

Vampires, as a whole, were as terrible as they were beautiful. And they were incredibly, awfully, horribly beautiful. Each one was too perfect, too pretty, too smooth to be anything other than immortal, goddess-blessed beings.

Other than a few exceptions—Sebastian, Phyrra, and the people of Rivin—most of the children of the moon I’d met were less-than-delightful. I would have thought more people would want to break their bonds, not less.

---