Page 243 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

Graves’s hand slid up her arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake as it came to settle on the middle of her chest where she could feel the thrum of the binding. “This doesn’t change anything for me,” he told her.

It did. It changed everything. But she didn’t know how to say that. How to explain that having Lorcan between them made her want to run.

“We’ll find a way to undo this.”

It was a promise he couldn’t make. A promise she couldn’t even get her hopes up for.

“If not with my magic, then we’ll try the cauldron,” he said. “Okay?”

The cauldron. In all the chaos, she hadn’t even considered the cauldron. Could the cauldron fix whatLorcan had done? It seemed impossible.

“Okay,” she agreed. “We’ll try it tomorrow.”

Her hope flickered like a fragile butterfly in her chest. This couldn’t be the end. She refused for her story to end with some man choosing her fate.

Chapter Seventy-Two

Her wrist was bruised.

She stared down at the places where braided rope had dug into her skin. Where she’d clawed against it to try to get it off. Tugged and pulled and wrenched until it tightened to a vise around her skin. Now the dark marks were a brand, a reminder of what she’d endured.

Gen offered to heal them, but Kierse refused. No one could see the internal marks that Lorcan had left behind. She didn’t want to hide the physical ones.

“What the fuck happened?” Nate asked, arriving while she was still eating breakfast with Graves, Gen, and Ethan the next morning. He reached for her wrists, and she let him take them in his large hands reverently.

“Lorcan,” she said solemnly.

“Fucking hell, Kierse.” His eyes lifted to hers. A glint of gold in them that said he was a second away from shifting into his wolf form and going to rip out Lorcan’s throat. “I’ll kill him.”

She pulled her hands back. “Get in line.”

“If it were that simple, I would have done it last night,” Graves said from his seat. A small leather book was open before him.

“Why the fuck not?”

Kierse couldn’t even get the words out. The angerripped through her anew at the lack of magic, the violation that cut to the bone.

“The binding allowed him to also take control of her magic. Usually, it’s a bridge between the two. Power sharing,” Graves explained. “But he’s cut her off. It’d be like if someone else decided when you could and couldn’t shift.”

Nate’s eyes widened in barely suppressed rage. “I’m all for torture,” he suggested. “We tie him to a chair and fuck him up until he releases her.”

“Tempting,” Graves said under his breath.

“We’re going to try the cauldron first,” Gen said.

“Might be less violent,” Ethan added.

“Whathedid was violent,” Nate all but roared.

Ethan held up his hands. “I’m aware. I’m on your side. Not his.”

Kierse shuddered, feeling the fresh reminder of her assault.

“I’m sorry,” Nate said automatically. “I’m so sorry. We’ll figure this out. I’m here for the cauldron, too. Let’s go use it and see if it lives up to its name.”

“Agreed,” Graves said, dropping his book onto the counter. He nodded at Isolde. “Thank you for breakfast. Delicious as always.”

She preened. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. If you need anything else, just let me know.” Isolde’s gaze fell on Kierse, and she turned away from the pity in the other woman’s expression.

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