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Chapter 31

'There isone last type of bond... a bond deeper than any other. Lovers whose hearts beat as one, who share the same breath, the same thoughts. We call this the soul bond, and it is a rare occurrence, for there is no hiding from each other within this bond. No means of removing it, only the means of muting it.'

- 'Bound As One', by Sir Geoffrey Mellors

VERITY GROANED, TURNING her head into something soft as she slowly woke. The room was dark and warm, but she felt bone-deep exhaustion.

"Easy," Adrian murmured, and then there were gentle hands helping her to slowly sit up and holding a glass of water to her lips.

Oh, goodness. She drank thirstily until someone—Bishop—took the glass away. "Careful," he murmured, "or you'll be ill."

"Well," Lady E muttered. "Didn't you give us half the fright?" Her pale face swam into view, those black eyes meeting Verity's. Lady E looked like she'd aged another decade, but tension dissolved from her shoulders at the sight of Verity, and she gave Verity's hand a squeeze. "Good to have you back in the land of the living."

"What happened?" Verity moaned. She had a vague recollection of the fight in the grotto, of Drake's sacrifice, and then her standoff with Bishop. Not much else. Or too much, perhaps. She kept getting images of carrying a young woman in her arms and shoving her into the carriage. Of blood on her hands. Ianthe taking charge of a bunch of sorcerers Verity didn't know. Of complex weaves and healing and... and looking down on an image of herself lying motionless in the bed.

How strange. She knew she hadn't done any of that.

"Ianthe won the seat of the Prime by default, as Sebastian was technically not human. Drake sacrificed himself to the demon, so that Sebastian could be free. Then someone tried to shoot Bishop," Lady E said. "You took the bullet meant for him." Lady E swallowed, then enveloped Verity in a rough hug that squeezed the breath out of her. "Thank you, my girl. Thank you for saving my boy."

Verity saw it then: the hooded man stepping out of the chaos, as if he'd somehow appeared from nowhere. His gaze had locked on Bishop, and he withdrew the pistol from his sleeve. A strange thing for a sorcerer to use, but with all the magic and wards being flung about, nobody would ever expect a simple bullet.

It had happened so quickly. She didn't think about it. Just slammed into Bishop, a shockingly breathless pain punching through her.

Lady E drew back, patting at her wet cheeks. She cleared her throat. "Now don'teverdo that again."

Verity paled. She couldfeelhow close to death she'd come. "You healed me," she said to Bishop.

"Barely." Lady E snorted, and exchanged a long look with her apprentice. "I daresay you're hungry. Perhaps some of that nice soup you were all foisting on me after my... bout of incapacity."

Without waiting for an answer she bustled toward the door, leaving Verity alone with him.

Nervousness sank through her. She couldn't remember everything, but she very distinctly remembered their fight. "Bout of incapacity?" she asked dryly, using humor to mask her true emotions.

Bishop's hand slid over hers, squeezing. "I'm an idiot," he said hoarsely. "Christ, I nearly lost you, and I said all those horrible things to you. You have no idea what that felt like. To see you like that."

"What happened to your father?" He shook his head, and she didn't press. "Sebastian?"

His face blanched, and he scrubbed his hand across his forehead and through his hair. Lady E wasn't the only one who looked like they'd aged. Adrian's cheeks were gaunt, his eyes feverishly bright in his hollow face. He'd lost ten pounds, seemingly overnight, and his coat hung off him. "Sebastian's alive. Lucien and Ianthe took him into custody."

"You didn't kill him."

Bishop's gaze lifted. "I was a little distracted." He paused. "And you were right. It's been three days, and... I'm not thinking the way I was then. He's a threat, that's true, but... I have been thinking of other ways to manage the situation. Thank you."

"What happened to you?" she whispered. "Are you unwell? You've lost so much weight."

He breathed out a laugh that was no laugh. "Ver, do you remember what happened?"

"Not really."

Taking her hand, he rested it against his chest, just over his heart. His heartbeat thumped beneath her palm, strangely reassuring.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He pressed his fingertips between her breasts, the lawn of her nightgown ruffling. Instantly, she realized that her heartbeat kicked along at the same pace as his. A part of her felt that touch in other places too, but she was far too weak to even think of sex.

"Are you ready?" he whispered.