Page 88 of Between Wrath and Mercy

“When we travel, it gets harder to maintain their bond. If we stayed, they wouldn’t have stopped.” He cringed, exhaling on a shudder, clearly speaking from experience.

“Oh, no!” I laughed, “I’m sure you learned the signs quickly, then.”

Rainier stilled, holding my foot in his hand, and his expression turned confused before he pulled back, lifting my leg. My mouth dropped in horror when I realized my mistake. I’d drank too much wine, and I wasn’t thinking. I tried to pull out of his grasp, but he only tightened his grip.

“What the fuck is this, Emmeline?” His gaze was murderous, and I shut my eyes, exhaling slowly.

“I told you I ran away.” My voice was a whisper. He lowered my leg and picked up the other to examine the twin scar on the bottom of my other foot. He traced his fingertip over the raised skin—a filigreed letter C encased in a circle.

C for Calvert.

“Faxon branded you.” I kept my eyes closed, finding it hard to breathe while overwhelmed by his thunderous heart. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, finding him watching me carefully.

“I tried to run the night before. I only made it a quarter of the way to Olistos before his brothers found me, and we were closer to the Calvert home. Faxon wasn’t there—he’d gone south to search for me—but his father told me if I wanted to wander like livestock, then…” I gestured to my feet.

C for cattle.

Rainier’s gaze smoldered, dangerous fire dancing within.

“And when Faxon found out?”

“What about it?”

“What did he do, Emmeline?” His temple was throbbing.

“Nothing.” He nodded as if I’d affirmed his suspicions. “Well, that’s not exactly true. He was glad of the inconspicuous placement.” A low growl rumbled from his throat.

“Have you tried to heal them?” He resumed rubbing my feet, gentle but firm, the same way he had before taking my socks off, paying no attention to the scars marring them.

“I’ve tried a few times since the onaán, but I think it’s been too long. I’m sorry.” I was whispering again, afraid for some reason I couldn’t quite understand.

“Divine hell, why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know. I should have listened to you back then. If I had your help, things might have been different.”

He didn’t speak for a while, brow furrowed as he watched his hands work.

“Maybe. But I’m here now, quite literally at your feet.” He gave me a soft smile before he pulled each of my feet up and delicately kissed my ankle bones, the softness making something in my chest hurt.

“At my feet making questionable decisions. Those things have been in socks and boots for days.” I pulled them away laughing, glad for the excuse to provide some levity. I felt a bit lighter now that he knew I hadn’t entirely given up back then. I hoped we could move on to lighter conversation, the heavy topics making me emotional. I was warm, flushed with embarrassment and emotion, and I moved to take his cloak off.

“Not cold anymore?” I shook my head, and he stood up, taking the cloak from me and hanging it up.

“Do you wish you were bonded?” I blurted it out and slapped my hand to my mouth the second after I asked it. So much for lighter conversation. The wine had loosened my tongue more than I wished.

“Doesn’t every conduit?” He countered as he turned back to me, his eyes narrowed a bit and his face guarded.

“Then why haven’t you? It’s not like you haven’t had the opportunity.” I grimaced when I realized how pathetic I sounded.

“I think you know why I haven’t, Em.” He crossed his arms as he stared down at me, his jaw clenched.

“That’s bullshit, Rain. You’re trying to tell me you waited for sixteen years? Because of me? You can’t just go around saying things like that to me. It’s confusing.”

“There’s nothing to be confused about.” He shrugged when I cast a glare in his direction. “To my credit, you’re the one who keeps bringing it up. You brought it up at the lake, and you brought it up now. I’ve been content to just do and say what feels right with you. You’re the one complicating things, not me.”

I almost retorted with a biting remark, but something stopped me, and I stilled. I sat there for a moment and thought back. He did have a point. Past his initial explanation at my home the other night, he hadn’t said any of the things that confused me or made me think about us or the future unless I pushed him. And if he was telling the truth, he hadn’t performed the ritual because of me. I didn’t know how to feel. I sat there for a few moments, thinking, while he quietly watched me.

“Is there any more wine?” I finally blurted out, embarrassed. I liked the warmth the wine gave me and the confidence. I decided I wanted to stop thinking, stop complicating things, and just be in the moment with the man who may or may not be the other half of me. The man who had dropped everything for me and my child. The man who had included me in every decision regarding her. The man I’d missed every day since Lucia died. He chuckled, a half-smile on his face.

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