Page 146 of A Weave of Lies
Estevan looked at her somberly. “No … No, I cannot,” he murmured, releasing her chin. His knuckles brushed her jaw in a pleading caress. Against her skin, his bare hand felt rough and calloused and impossibly gentle. “Semras, I have imagined so many possibilities, and none are pleasing me, but I still need to know: what did I agree to? I heard them say, ‘twined by the wyrd’ … What does it mean?”
Rendered wordless in front of his plea, Semras beheld him.
At his best, Estevan was an overwhelmingly headstrong and charming man, and, at his worst, an unpredictable, lying bastard. But the man in front of her now was neither. A wretched and scared shell of his usual self stood in their stead.
Or perhaps this was who he truly was, deep down: a man lost in a world that didn’t care to make sense for him—a man without landmarks, drifting and grasping at anything for a semblance of control over his fate. Embers or inferno, she remembered. His fire came not from arrogance, as she once thought, but from a survival instinct born from the violence of his world.
Semras exhaled quietly. Estevan needed—no,deserved—the truth.
Her eyes drifted to the red welts coursing across his skin. “Must we speak of it now? You’re hurt …” She hovered her handsnear his bruises, not daring to touch them and awaken the pain within.
He looked down at himself. “This is not the first time I have been tortured … though, admittedly, this was one of the worst.” His lips twisted into a forced smile. “I will be fine. This is more important to me. I need to know, Semras.”
She heard him, but her mind kept reeling over the severity of his wounds. “They meant to kill you …”
“They would have succeeded had you not intervened,” he replied. “I have never seen warwitches at work before, and I do not care to repeat the experience.”
“I won’t let them get to you ever again.” Gripping her head, she added, “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t sent that Crone-cursed message, the Coven wouldn’t have been on high alert, and—”
Estevan cupped her face and brought her eyes back to him. “Semras, do not regret what you did out of concern for your Coven. I would have done the same,” he said. His brow creased. “I will, in fact. That witch you said had trapped me … Madra, you called her? She needs to be put on our watchlist. She sounded … unhinged, like an extremist.”
A sister witch being watched by the Inquisition would have alarmed her before.
Now, it didn’t.
“I thought you’d want revenge on her,” she said softly. “Maybe even kill her.”
Estevan shook his head. “I would never take revenge for myself. My life is insignificant compared to how many have been lost to the Void.”
“It is not insignificant to me. That’s why I saved it.” Semras sighed. “It cost me dearly, but I did.”
Wide eyes took in her confession. “You …?”
“I claimed you before the Coven, in a ritual that binds us as … as lifelong companions. Our wyrd—our fate—are entwined now.You swore to me your protection and care. And I devoted to you my power and my … my company. It’s hard to explain,” she mumbled. It wasn’t, but she couldn’t tell him everything. Not now, when she’d yet had to process it herself. “You could call yourself my … my knight, my champion, maybe, or my—”
“… Husband.” Estevan’s face dropped. Backing away from her, he sat back in shock.
“It’s … yes,” she reluctantly admitted. “That’s how most Deprived call Wyrdtwined mates … but it’s not quite the same. It’s … um …”
Estevan dropped his head into his hands. “I swore an oath …”
“It’s one, yes, but—”
“No. Not this one.” The inquisitor lifted his head to gaze at his open hands, his face stricken by horror. “Long ago, I swore an oath to the Inquisition. I struggled to put no one above that duty, but I never broke it. And itshouldhave remained unbroken until my eternal rest.” Estevan lifted sorrowful eyes at her. “Do you understand what you did to me? You made me break that vow. I was a man of my word, and now … now I am a man of nothing.”
Semras blinked, stunned by his unexpected grief. Then, rage overtook her. “You would have died! The warwitches would have killed you—you said so yourself! What I did saved yourlife!”
“I would rather have died than break my oath,” he replied quietly, eyes closing. “I would rather have died.”
He’d rather die than take her as Wyrdtwined?
Semras’ warp shape throbbed. Ached. Wept. The foreign wefts woven in it smothered her heart in their cruel, cold embrace.
“Great. Well. This is for life, so …” Her lips quivered. “Endure it. Like I’ll have to.” A tempest of emotions blurred her eyes with telltale tears, and Semras tried blinking them away.
She wanted to laugh. She had wasted the only Wyrdtwined mate she could ever have for a man so ashamed of it he’d have preferred death. If she was so repulsive, he could always kill herto rid himself of the sight, she thought. It was a ridiculous idea, of course … and yet …
Doubt gnawed at her heart. No, he wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t …
