Page 332 of Primal Bonds

“That’s what Mama Ria says.”

“And she’s right.”

“But Anabella says I’m just a freak. Not fae, not fada. Even my own clan doesn’t want me.” Her voice dropped to a ragged whisper.

Rosana’s jaw worked. She was going to have a long talk with Anabella.

“That’s not true,” she told Merry. “Lord Adric did want you. He’d take you back into his clan in a heartbeat. And your uncle Jace wants you, doesn’t he?”

A small nod. “But that’s just them. There are others who think my mom should never have mated with a half-blood.”

“You heard earth fada saying that? From Adric’s clan?”

Another tiny, miserable nod. “Last year at the Midsummer Ball. They said”—she swallowed—“that I stink like a night fae.”

Rosana’s chest knotted with fury. “Well, fuck them. You have the scent of an earth fada, and maybe a little river fada, because you spend so much time with us. And you know what? It’s their loss, because you’re special. Any clan would love to have you as a member. Dion was saying just the other day how smart you are.”

“Seriously?” Merry’s hazel eyes were hopeful.

“Truth.” Rosana touched her heart. “Cleia thinks so, too. And you’re not only smart, you’ll probably have a really cool Gift because you have so much fae in you.” That fae blood had already made Merry one of the most beautiful teenagers in the clan.

“Yeah? You really think so?”

“I do. I really do.” She ran a palm over the teen’s electric black hair and was rewarded by a bashful smile.

“Thanks, Rosana.”

“Anytime. You can ask me anything, all right? Because you’re clan. And because I love you, just the way you are. Understand?”

She grasped Merry’s hands—and stiffened at the vision that flashed across her retinas. A man’s black eyes, and nothing else.

“Rosana? You okay?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them, all she saw was the younger girl’s anxious face. “Yeah. It’s…been a long day, that’s all.”

They continued walking. They were almost to Rosana’s quarters when Merry asked, “Do you think my grandfather—the prince—could’ve found out I’m still alive?”

“I don’t know. But Dion and your papai will keep you safe, no matter what—and Cleia wouldn’t let him take you against your will.”

Merry nodded, her expression troubled.

Rosana’s skin prickled. “Why?”

“Because.” Merry ran a hand over her nape. “Sometimes I could swear he’s watching me.”

Rosana waited until she heard Isa’s soft snores before easing her bedroom door shut. To ensure she wasn’t interrupted, she propped a chair under the door handle before retrieving a small teak chest from beneath the bed. A bottlenose dolphin was carved on the lid. She traced its curving back, sadness pinching her heart.

The teak chest dated to when her parents had first come to America, a gift from her Irish granddad to his daughter Ula. The bottlenose carving was a reminder of her mom’s sea fada roots. Dion had gifted the chest to Rosana on her sixteenth birthday, saying their mom would want her to have it.

Opening the lid, she took out a cobalt scrying bowl. As part of her training, she’d experimented with different modes of scrying—a mirror, polished lava, smoke, tarot cards, even a crystal ball—but not surprisingly, the best focus for her was a bowl of water.

Now she unwrapped the chamois cloth protecting the deep blue glass and set the bowl on a small table next to a pitcher of water.

She’d walked Merry to her own quarters, had waited while the teen told Rui and Valeria about Prince Langdon. But there wasn’t much her parents could do beyond the close watch they were already keeping on their daughter. To protect Merry, Langdon had spelled her quartz so that no night fae could touch her without dying. Unfortunately, the prince had excluded himself from the spell.

But Rosana was a Seer. Maybe she could See something that might help Merry. And what about those black eyes she’d glimpsed?

She poured the water into the shallow blue bowl, and then sat cross-legged on a sheepskin rug, the bowl in her hands. She took several slow breaths, calming and centering herself, and then let her gaze go soft.

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