Page 22 of Wings and Shadowthief

He snorted. “Tell that to the millions of murderers and rapists throughout human history.”

She grimaced. “So, what did that make them?”

“Available,” Eirikr shot back, surprising her again.

He returned to his bed, his saunter fairly distracting.

“I don’t get what you’re saying. Again.”

“I’ll attribute it to your lack of education on the matter rather than a mental deficiency.” His tone suggested she should consider that a favor.

“Thanks?”

“Every person on this planet was born with a soul mate. The Enlightened have one, and when they designed humanity, they ensured that we’d be given the same courtesy. The witches wanted those three girls, raised as sisters, to marry into three warring clans. And they certainly didn’t want them to separate after a couple of years. So, they had to be free to form a true bond to their partners—though they weren’t the mates fate dictated for them.”

Her head was going to explode. “You’re saying…although they weren’t true mates, those girls could have a true mate’s bond?”

“They were given one thing none of us possess. The ability to choose. And once they did, their powers emerged, a mirror to their partner’s. Cold to their heat, fire to their water, darkness to their light. The promised bond increased the power of those witches, and of their partner exponentially. You’re no dark witch, though I see why Varra would take you for one. You’re a Bride. Feel free to inform him he was mistaken.” Eirikr seemed entertained by the notion.

Gwen ran everything in her mind, and decided his conclusion made exactly no sense. “I wasn’tmadeby crazy witches. Trust me, I look exactly like my mother.” To her great sorrow. “I was born the old fashioned way.”

“You don’t have to be. One Bride dies, another is born. It has been the way since their creation. There are only ever three, and they like to keep it under wraps.”

“If that’s true, surely people would know about it.” Right? He must be spinning some tale for his entertainment. Otherwise, she would have heard before.

A small voice whispered that it was easy enough to check his words. She could research it at the library, or ask professor Varra. There was no reason for him to lie.

She told that voice to shut the hell up.

Eirikr winced. “There might have been a Bride-hunting tradition in the Middle Ages. You know, gaining power and a gorgeous wife? Many an alpha or vampire have been tempted.”

Gwen could still feel herself frowning. “Then, why did they stop?” There were holes in his story.

The vampire shrugged. “The immortals had a habit of killing mated Brides, in order to get a chance at hunting down an available one. So I hunted down and killed anyone tempted. In time, no one bothered anymore.”

Damn him, he had an answer for everything.

“You weren’t? Tempted.” Gwen regretted the question as soon as it crossed her lips. That was a little offensive, accusatory, and probably a good way to get herself drained by Eirikr.

He shrugged. “I have a mate.”

He did?

She considered asking, but thought better of it.

“Wise,” Eirikr replied to her inner thought directly.

She was certain she hadn’t spoken this time. “You’re a psychic.”

“I’m many a thing. Just like you.”

Gwen nodded, somehow starting to consider this outlandish, insane, weird theory. “But then, if I’m starting to change like this, and you’re right, it suggests I got hitched.” She snorted. “I would have remembered that.”

“Would you?” Eirikr smirked.

His expression was unfairly gorgeous and far too knowing for her liking. She didn’t appreciate it one bit.

“You can choose a mate, child. If you made such a choice, even subconsciously, you would have bonded.”

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