“You,” I hissed, and my breath hitched with fury. “What the fuck did you do?” I scratched at the red lines in a feeble attempt to remove them but only succeeded in sending a jolt of pain shooting up my leg. “Ouch!” I yelped.
“Don’t shout, Farrow. We’re in a library,” Casimir scolded. He stood, entirely unaffected as he watched me fume. Bored, almost.
I was going to kill him. “What the hell isthis?”
“We made a veilbound bargain,” he explained with a shrug. “That mark is evidence of our magical contract.”
I could only stare at him from my crouched position on the alcove floor. The tips of my fingers had gone white from pressing hard into the flesh of my left thigh.
Casimir.
I was furious beyond words. “So youbranded mewith magic?”
He rolled his eyes at my outrage. “Veilbound bargains aren’t sealed with brands. That mark—” he pointed to my leg “—is more like a tattoo, only it’s not permanent. Bloodbargains, on the other hand… Let’s just say they leave morepermanentscars.”
“Undo it, now!” I demanded.
But he just shook his head. “Can’t do that, I’m afraid,” he said.
“But—” I spluttered, “that’s not fair!” Tears began to blur my vision, and then I was crying. How horribly predictable.
At last, Casimir gave a resigned sigh, as ifIwere the one being unreasonably difficult, despite having just tricked me into having hisfucking nametattooed into my thigh. But my tears must have moved him at least a little, because he moved closer to examine the damage.
Finally,I thought as the tears spilled over and rolled down my cheeks.He’s going to remove it.
Casimir reached out to catch the last tear before it fell from my chin. He brought it to his lips, tasting the salt on his tongue. “You can be so dramatic,” he remarked, and my eyes widened as he yanked up his sleeve to expose his forearm. “Look. I have your name tattooed on me as well.”
And there it was, carved into the crook of his right forearm.
Arden
My gaze narrowed on his tattoo—onmyname, emblazoned there. I was so shocked that I stopped crying.
And then the rage returned.
“How come yours is on your arm, but mine is on my thigh?” I gritted out, gesturing to my leg. Then, realizing how much of my skin was still exposed, I hastily tugged my skirt back down, my cheeks heating.
Casimir smirked at the movement.
And then I realized—he wasamusedat my reaction—as if my embarrassment at this minor exposure was prudish. For him, the sight of a bare woman’s thigh was inconsequential; nothing he hadn’t seen before. I ground my teeth.
“How long?” I asked.
His name felt irrevocably etched into my skin, and while theburning had ceased, it still prickled like a constant, unwelcome reminder of what I’d just done.
Casimir shrugged. “It will remain on your skin for as long as our bargain is intact,” he replied. “Now, tell me about your alleged abilities before I lose my patience.”
I bristled at his demand.How dare hedemand anything of me after he’d just marred my literal flesh! But my anger was dissipating, replaced by trepidation at the prospect of revealing my secret. I could count on my hand the number of people who knew the truth. One of them was dead. One was my mother, who vacillated between outright denial and deep shame when it came to my gift. Gwen was the third confidant, and I’d never seen a reason to inform August. Now, I would have to add Casimir Wrayburn to that list.
Casimir, who I could never trust. Casimir, who had lied to me and tricked me into a magical bargain. Casimir, who was not even mortal. Casimir, whose brows were raised in expectation. Waiting.
I gave him the most venomous glare I could muster and said, “I can detect a lie, any lie.”
He stared at me for a moment, and then laughed aloud. “Really?” he said, taking one step toward me, his eyes alight with excitement. “Okay then, prove it. Tell me if I am lying. Let’s see…”
But before he could voice whatever truths or lies he’d settled on, I cut him off. “The thing is,” I began with a grimace, “it turns out you’re the only person I’ve ever met who’s immune to my gift…”
“You must be joking.” Casimir barked a laugh, running a hand over his face, and I was struck by a strong urge to slap him. I curled my traitorous fingers into fists.