“It was not Talon!”
The shout stopped him in his tracks.
I was not sure why I felt the need to clear his name, but the thought of my family believing he had hurt me did not sit right in my stomach. Perhaps it was because he had broken the bone of his own kin in my honor.
I exhaled slowly. “It was a patrol at the South Ridge. Two guards. They… they thought I had crossed the threshold.”
Mother’s fingers dropped from my jaw, her complexion draining of color. “They laid their hands on you?”
“It is done,” I said, my hand instinctively ghosting over my neck. “Talon intervened. He dismissed them publicly.”
Father did not look relieved. He leaned back against the heavy sideboard, wiping a hand down his tired face.
“We cannot live like this any longer,” he said, his voice thick with desperation. “It is unsafe. You are being hunted in your own realm, Kaelia.”
“It is not permanent,” I argued. “I still ha—”
“Of course it is not permanent!” Father whipped around, his eyes flashing. “Because in three sunrises, you are either bound or dead. And at the rate you are going, it will be the latter.”
Mother let out a strangled sob, clutching her apron. “He is right. Kaelia, please… your Aunt Amara thought she could outrun the solstice, too. She thought her soul was too sacred to be bartered.”
I stiffened. We did not speak of Amara. She was the ghost that lived in the corners of our cottage—the woman who waited for a soul-match that never came, only to be taken by the Veythar when the clock ran out.
“Amara chose her own heart over the law,” Mother continued, her voice breaking. “And we never saw her again. Please. A bond forged for safety can grow into something steady. It does not have to be a cage.”
I looked at Lyra, her hand tucked safely into Theron’s.
“You want me to wake up every morning beside a stranger,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “You want me to look at a man my soul does not recognize and thank him for the privilege of my breath.”
“We want you to live!” Mother cried, the sound echoing harshly against the rafters. “Amara is a warning, Kaelia. Not an inspiration.”
The pressure behind my ribs finally snapped. I stood so abruptly my chair screeched against the floorboards and toppled, the crash echoing in the space.
“I am not her!”
My mother flinched, her trembling hand coming to her mouth.
“I am sorry,” I whispered, shaking my head.
I turned and ran for the stairs, my boots thudding a frantic rhythm against the wood. I slammed my bedroom door and leaned against it, the darkness of the room swallowing me whole.
6
CHAPTER SIX
The morning sun over Isvale offered no mercy for my humiliation. Light spilled across the market square in sheets of liquid gold, but it felt cold against my skin.
At the center of the square stood the council’s stall, its beams newly carved and draped in ceremonial ribbons of muted blue and silver.
From a distance, it looked like a festive pavilion. But close up, you were able to read the proclamation nailed between the uprights.
‘A Plea for Connection: Unbound Souls Seek Their Elarthai.’
Forty-eight hours until dawn claimed my name.
I adjusted the sapphire silk of my gown, the constellations embroidered across the bodice catching the light as I stood upon the raised wooden platform.
“Next!” I called out.