Bound Partners rarely separated from each other. Why would they? They provided life for each other. They were blessed by Isvana, the goddess of the moon, herself.
And if Jelisette had a Bound Partner, that meant Brynleigh had missed something significant. It meant her Maker had been lying since day fucking one.
Brynleigh’s heart raced, and disbelief coursed through her. She drew in short breaths as she thought over every interaction she’d ever had with her Maker. Assuming it was true, there would be signs. Markings.
How could Brynleigh have worked so closely with someone for six years without noticing they were Bound to another being?
None of this made any sense.
Her head swirled. Her lungs squeezed. It was like someone had dropped a thousand-pound weight on her chest.
And Ryker was sitting there, studying her every movement.
“I… I don’t understand.” Perhaps she would’ve taken this news better before her imprisonment, but now… “Jelisette wouldn’t have kept this from me.”
Right? There had to be some level of trust between them. After all, Jelisette had Made Brynleigh. Some vampires saw their progeny as their children, and they shared everything.
While Brynleigh had never had that kind of relationship with her Maker, this was…
Impossible.
Right?
It seemed like a small omission from the outside, but the more Brynleigh thought about it, the worse it got. She had spent years with her Maker, and Jelisette had never mentioned anything like this. She’d never even hinted at having a Bound Partner. Brynleigh had never seen her with anyone; for Isvana’s sake, she’d never even seen Jelisette’s supposed Marking.
Ryker raised a brow.
“Really?” His tone made his position on the matter clear. “She wouldn’t have?”
“No.” Brynleigh shook her head adamantly. “I… She’s my Maker.”
She could still remember the feeling when Jelisette saved her from awatery grave, still remember the way her sire had first drained her of her blood and then given her the gift of immortality.
Brynleigh whispered, as if trying to convince herself, “There’s a sacredness to our bond.”
If this was true, it meant she couldn’t trust anything that had happened to her since her Making.
Ryker leaned back, his relaxed posture almost laughable in the face of Brynleigh’s inner turmoil.
“Your Maker hid this from you.”
His voice was so calm. So certain. He might as well have been telling her that the sky was blue.
It was like this was just another workday for Ryker, and he wasn’t delivering life-altering news that would forever change how Brynleigh saw the world.
Some of her light-headedness abated, giving way to anger instead. Why was he doing this? Was it a trick?
“How do you know?” She narrowed her eyes. “What proof do you have?”
She refused to accept that this was real. Somehow, he had to be lying.
He raised a brow. “You want proof?”
It wasn’t a want. Brynleigh wanted many things—for this to be over, for them to return to the way they were, for her heart to stop aching—but this was different. She needed it.
“Yes.”
“Alright.” He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and slid it across the coffee table. He inched back his fingers before she could touch him.