by Helene Gadot
I eyed him with suspicion. "Why are you buttering me up? I won't be recruited, you know."
The corner of his lips quirked. "I know. Which is easier for me, but you would be a valued asset."
"Sorry. No interest. And what do you mean, easier for you?"
"Nothing." He rolled the leg of my pants up with a slow and somehow sensual movement, biting his bottom lip as he smoothed the cream around my ankle, then moving to my left leg to do the same.
Lust flared inside me. "You meant it removes the temptation?"
"Yes."
"I don't know much about the bonds since my parents never found theirs and I'm still new to this, but shouldn't it get easier over time? The longer we deny it? Right now, it hurts and feels impossible to resist." I rubbed my chest, hating the draw I felt towards him. It was easier to ignore while we talked, the conversation distracting.
He leaned closer, hypnotizing me with his inky eyes. "It does get easier. There are many people here who have denied the bond. Some hate each other, some are wonderful friends, some have casual sex and are somehow able to resist more. But I can't imagine any of that right now. All I want is to rip those clothes off of you and see you screaming in the middle of my bed."
My mouth dried up and my hands curled into fists in the blankets as I fought against the desire to throw myself at him. It was easier to fight the bond when he wasn't saying those type of things or looking at me with hunger darkening his eyes. But when desire swirled in the depths of his midnight gaze, it made the need burning inside me blaze to life from a simmer to a violent boil.
I licked my lips, and he tracked the movement, a desperate sound rumbling from the back of his throat. His hand still wrapped around my ankle, hot and firm. The tension between us was so tight any sudden movement or the wrong word would make it snap. I couldn't look away from the lines of muscles in his chest and down his abdomen, the clinging material of his blue shirt hiding nothing. It wasn't just the women who showed their bodies off in the dragon lands.
Bastian finally broke our stares and silence, rising from the bed after releasing my bandaged leg. "I... I need to get some research done in my office. You should get more rest if you want. Or I have plenty of books if you'd like to read."
I shook off the fog of lust, searching for something, anything to take my mind off of him. "Actually, do you have paper and pen? I have a new song I need to write down before I lose it."
Interest lit up his face. "Of course. Do you need an instrument?"
Excitement spiraled through my veins. "What sort do you have?"
"I have a flute and a guitar and a few hand bells."
I smiled. "The guitar and the bells would be perfect. I've never tried the flute."
"I'll bring it to you as well. Perhaps you'll find you enjoy it."
"Thank you."
He shrugged. "They're doing nothing but gathering dust in my study. I enjoy music and am fascinated by it, but I've never had the time or the chance to learn."
He broke my heart. "I could teach you a little while I'm stuck here."
"Really?" A hint of vulnerability and hesitant hope flashed in his eyes.
I shot him a tentative smile. "If you're interested."
"I'd quite like that. Thank you."
I waved him off. "It's no big deal. I like anything to do with music. I've never taught anyone before, so we'll see how it goes."
He disappeared into his study for a few moments before reemerging with instruments, paper, and a pen clutched in his arms. My fingers itched to rip them away from him, but I forced myself to remain still as he brought them over and set them on the bed.
"I'll be in my study if you need anything."
I stared at the pile of wonderful beside me on the bed, raising one trembling hand to run my fingers across the cold metal of the flute and bells. The guitar would have to wait, my bandaged fingers would be too clumsy on the strings.
I crawled into the center of the bed, scrawling the lyrics still playing through my mind onto the page. The music in my mind refused to let go, to release me from its demands. Not until I got it down onto the page, until I added the proper notes to the matching words. Only then could I stop.
I tried the hand bells first, grinning wide at the pure sound emanating from them. Bastian only had two, one low and one high, but the sound they made enchanted me. Next I picked up the flute, running it through my fingers, testing the buttons and holes, before I brought it up to my lips and blew softly into the mouthpiece.
An earsplitting shriek came from it, making me jerk and almost drop it into my lap. With a frustrated huff, I tried again, pressing different keys this time. A better sound spilled from the flute, but still too flat. I was too aware of Bastian in the next room, well within hearing range. It made me nervous.
I eyed the guitar with longing, the instrument so similar to my ukulele. The hand bells didn't carry enough notes for me to finish my song and I'd need days or weeks to conquer the flute. Maybe if I stuck to strumming, it wouldn't interfere with the bandages or wounds too badly. They were well-wrapped and tight. It'd be fine.
Unable to resist, I set the flute aside with a glare at the gleaming metal and settled the guitar in my lap. I was quite familiar with the guitar. My father had owned one before he sold it so we could eat the next couple of days. He sold all his instruments until all he had left was the ukulele, unable to bear to part with it.
Dust motes floated and danced in the air as I tuned it, glittering in the firelight as they swirled around and settled onto me and the bed. The right notes finally spilled into the room from my ragged fingers. I ignored the pain, pushing past it, determined to play through the song at least once. My voice joined the guitar's harmony, not needing the scribbles on the pages, the song stamped onto my heart, onto my soul, raging to be released.
This was what I couldn't give up, not even for the men who I was slowly falling for. I couldn't give up the songs demanding to be born and set free. The music was an integral part of me and giving it up would change me, warp me, darken me. I couldn't play and write happy and sappy love songs for the royals or the drunks or the overworked. Those songs meant nothing to me. I had to release the pain and emotion in me and the fluff songs didn't cut it. I couldn't bury the rage and hopelessness and discontent at our broken society. I wouldn't.
And I would be grateful for the rest of my life and into whatever came after that I hadn't been matched with kindreds who demanded I give it up. Instead I was matched with kindreds who would give up who and what they were for me.
I hoped they didn't think I left them, deciding it was better for all of us if we went our separate ways. I was especially worried about Aster. After our night and following morning together, he might have thought I was running scared since I denied our connection for so long and with such determination. I never got the chance to tell him I wanted to be his kindred, and I wanted him to be mine.
Movement from Bastian's study doorway caught my eye, and I turned my head to see him leaning with his back and one foot against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me.
The song drew to a close, and I set the guitar aside. "Am I bothering you?"
"Not at all. It was..." Bastian cleared his throat before he continued. "It was bloody gorgeous. I've never heard anything so beautiful. I felt every emotion in that song."
I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, my heart swelling and cheeks warming at his words. "Thank you. Being here has truly been wonderful for my ego."
"I suppose it must be a large change from getting booed over rebellious songs."
I snorted. "Very different."
He pushed off the door and approached, sitting carefully beside me on the bed with slow movements like he was trying not to spook me. "How are your fingers?"
"They're numb now."
He took my left hand and turned it to lie in his palm. "It didn't bleed through the bandage, so that's a good sign." He shook his head. "You really shouldn't have played the g
uitar yet."
I shrugged. "I'm just glad I can still use them."
"You won't be if they get infected."
I tried to pull my hand away. "Stop fussing."
He sniffed in offense, his grip tightening on my hand. "I never fuss."
"Clearly." He and Whist would definitely get along.
He set my hand back in my lap, his knuckles dragging against my thigh made my breath catch in my throat. His touch ignited flames low in my stomach and I tilted towards him, wanting more, craving more, needing more. My brain screamed at me to stop, to back up, to run, but my brain wasn't currently in charge.
And neither was his.
ELEVEN
He shifted on the bed until our hips pressed together, twisting his torso to face me. I could read the conflict on his face, in his eyes. They probably matched my own.
"I need you to tell me to get the hell out of here because I suddenly don't have the strength. If you don't tell me to leave, I will taste you. And I know it's not what you want." His words echoed in my mind, reminding me of something similar Whist said once upon a time.
I gulped past my dry throat. "It's not what you want either."
He leaned in, his midnight eyes ripping away my barriers. "We have to fight this."
"I know." My breathing deepened and my head felt heavy.
His words brushed against my lips. "I'm having a hard time remembering why at this moment."
"So am I."
"Tell me to go." He whispered the words, low and soft.
My stomach clenched and my nipples hardened. "I can't."
His scent of sun-warmed stone and lavender teased my nose. "Fuck. You're killing me. I can smell your need. And everything within me is demanding I satisfy it."
The faces of Whist, Aster, Saber, and Sky ran through my mind and gave me the strength to leap from the bed on trembling legs. Knowing them, they'd welcome another kindred into our lives if it was what I wanted, but I refused to do anything without discussing it with them first. It wasn't fair to them.
And Bastian still mourned his wife and child. He didn't want this. He didn't want me. We could be stronger than the bond. We had to be. I wouldn't ruin our burgeoning friendship by giving in to the lust riding us.
"I need you to leave. Please." My words sent rippling pain through me, but I forced them out anyway, keeping my back to him.
"Thank you."
"Yeah."
I collapsed onto the bed once he left, breathing hard and digging the heels of my palms into my eyes, the papers I'd written my song on crinkled beneath me. It had been this difficult with the others, but they hadn't been fighting it like Bastian was, like I did. I thought it'd be easier with both of us denying the connection.
I hated feeling out of control, hated the feelings it gave me for virtual strangers based on whatever the force or fate decided would make us work together. He'd already had a great love like my parents had. It was proved possible over and over that love could be found on our own.
A knock tapped at the door. I rolled off the bed and went to answer it, opening it wider when it revealed Kira standing there with a smile.
She strode into the room. "Bastian sent me to keep you company. Is everything all right? He seemed... disheveled I guess is the best word. Unusual for him."
I shut the door with a soft snick. "We're both struggling with the bond."
"Ah." She sprawled out on the sofa with a nod of understanding.
"Zelda's your kindred, right?" I walked over to set next to her.
"Yes."
"Did you accept her right away?" I asked.
"Pretty much. Why are you two fighting it? Do you not like him?"
I debated how much to say. There was no one else to talk to here, but I barely knew her, as kind as she seemed. "I don't really know yet. But he's not over losing his wife, we're from different countries and both have responsibilities there. And I already have four kindreds I need to return to. Also, I have a bad habit of fighting each one. I don't like being pushed into relationships and so I balk until I'm convinced it's my choice." I spilled out way more than I meant to.
She sighed. "I get that. Sometimes it does chafe, feeling like we don't have much freedom. But I love my kindred. Completely. Without the bond, we wouldn't have found each other, much less tried a relationship."
"It's the same with my kindreds." I huffed a small laugh. If they hadn't been my kindreds, I'd be dead.
Kira's brow furrowed. "Then why do you think it can't be the same with Bastian?"
"Well, for one, he doesn't want to be with me either. Two, I won't do anything without talking to my kindreds first. And three, he wants to stay and I want to go." It seemed obvious to me. And to Bastian.
"And did your other kindreds have similar difficulties?" A knowing twinkle flickered in her blue eyes.
"Yes." I paused a moment, choosing my words with care. "They had a life they were willing to give up to keep me safe. I didn't want to be safe and I didn't want to be the reason they sacrificed everything."
"And I take it, you found a way to make it work?"
"We did. Or, we were finding a way before I was separated from them."
Kira winced. "I can't imagine being forcibly removed from Zelda. It would kill me."
"I certainly don't recommend it." I pulled my legs up onto the couch, folding them under me.
"You should talk to Marcus. Or Bastian should."
I frowned. "Why?"
"He and his kindred decided they weren't right for each other and parted ways. Marcus is still alone, but Jena is pregnant with her second child with her husband."
"What's their relationship like now?" I asked.
She shrugged. "Friendly, but not close."
"How did they do it? Every time I'm near Bastian..." I trailed off, cheeks burning.
Kira laughed. "You want to jump him?"
I picked at an errant string hanging from one of the bandages. "A little. Yes."
"It's probably harder on you because your other kindreds aren't here to temper it. I can't believe you have five. That's almost unheard of. Most of us only find one or two."
"With the countries so separate, it's a wonder kindred soul bonds haven't completely died off."
Kira pursed her lips. "Interesting. You certainly proved it by coming here and bonding straightaway.
I snorted. "I sure did."
She sat forward, her expression intense. "All right. I need to know something."
"Okay." I drew out the word, a little nervous.
"So you spent your career performing songs that basically denounced the kindred bond. But then you meet your kindreds and end up accepting them? Not judging, but I'm wildly curious how it all came to be."
I chuckled and then told her the story of how a traveling bard met three assassins. How they made me rethink everything I believed. How they were already a family who embraced me without a single qualm. How they banished the loneliness I'd been tormented by for so many years. How they still gave me a choice even though they wanted the bond more than anything. How they supported my music and rebellion, willing to leave their lives behind so I could continue my mission. How I began to believe fate had a hand in bringing them to me and me to them.
I left Aster out of the story, unable to tell it in a way without giving away too much information. "I was never against kindred bonds. I just believed they weren't the only option and hated that our laws made it illegal to marry anyone else. So many people never find theirs or regret them. Your country has it right."
Kira nodded. "If it worked with them, why couldn't it work with Bastian? There's always a way."
She really was not giving up on the idea. Bastian warned me his people would react this way, but I hadn't completely believed him or understood.
"You're forgetting he doesn't want this either."
"I think he's more afraid of allowing himself to love again and then risk losing it. You are dangerous to him. Especially since you put yourself at risk with
your music."
I rubbed my chin, almost laughing as I remembered a similar conversation with Elora about Aster. The difference was if I decided I wanted the bond with Bastian, he'd still need to be convinced, and I wasn't altogether comfortable trying to change his mind.
Kira patted my leg. "Think about it. Not all of us are lucky enough to find five men to worship us."
I snorted, but couldn't deny that was exactly what it felt like when I was surrounded by my assassins. Worshiped. And it wasn't the worst feeling.
"Now. Bastian mentioned something about a new song. I want to hear it."
I smiled, happy with the subject change. "Do you play or sing?"
She shook her head. "I sing, but can't play anything."
I gathered the crumpled papers and handed them to her. It was still pissing a few notes and needed to be completely rewritten without all the scribbles and scratched out words, but it was enough she should be able to follow along.
We spent the rest of the afternoon singing and putting the final finishing touches on the song. Her voice was lovely, a perfect match to mine.
Bastian still hadn't returned by dinner time, so I joined Kira and the rest of the dragon squad, trying to ignore the splinter sinking into my heart at his absence.
It was better this way. Indigo arrived the next day, and I'd either be in major trouble, or I'd be on my way back home to my kindreds.
TWELVE
Bastian never returned to his room. It was Kira who came for me the next morning to escort me to the Assembly.
"Have you heard anything?" I took the tray from her. "You didn't need to bring me breakfast." I wasn't sure my churning stomach would let me eat anyway.
She followed me over to the sofa. "It's no trouble. And no, I haven't head anything. All I know is the princess and her entourage arrived less than an hour ago and before they get started on their treaty talk, they want to deal with you first."
"Lovely." I sat the tray on the table and curled up on the sofa.
She took a seat next to me. "You didn't lie, right? So you have nothing to worry about."
