“What are you doing? Why did you come back?” Evelayn swiped at the remaining moisture on her burning cheeks, staring aghast at Ceren, who should have been home with her younglings.
“Ceren unwisely returned to make sure you were unharmed. When she couldn’t find you, she came to me for help,” Tanvir answered, anger apparent in every rigid line of his body.
“And you thought it best to barge into my personal quarters uninvited.” Lorcan’s face, in comparison, was a mask, betraying no emotion whatsoever. “I daresay she is not the only unwise one.”
“I succeeded in finding Evelayn for her, did I not? Whether she is unharmed remains to be seen.”
“Ceren, I’m fine—” Evelayn began, but Lorcan cut in before she could continue.
“Tread lightly, Lord Tanvir,” he warned coldly. “You do not wish to anger me.”
“What have I to lose? You’ve already taken everything from me.”
“I am the one who saved your sister. Anything you’ve lost, you lost yourself through your own deceit and pride.”
“I have no pride left. You and your father made sure of that.”
Lorcan stepped toward him menacingly. “I don’t think you wish to endanger your sister again through your foolishness.”
“Is that a threat?”
“I am not my father, but I have my limits on how much insubordination I will tolerate.”
“Enough!” Evelayn shouted, stepping forward between the two males. Even though Tanvir was basically incapacitated, she half expected him to slam his head into Lorcan’s if provoked any further. And there was no telling what Lorcan would do if Tanvir didn’t close his mouth. Tanvir was so belligerent—as if he wanted the king to hurt him. She’d been watching him, all the things Lorcan had told her running through her mind, their history taking on a whole new light. His reluctance to get close to her at first, his lies about his sister, many of the comments he’d made or things he’d done. She’d thought it was because he felt himself unworthy to Bind himself to a queen … but that hadn’t been it at all. He’d been suffering from guilt, because he’d been lying to her. As much as she wished it weren’t true—that Lorcan was the one lying—she knew deep down that he’d been the one to speak the truth.
“You lied to me. About everything,” she said to Tanvir now, proud of herself for keeping her tone even, letting none of her pain and betrayal bleed into her words.
Tanvir wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“There is always a choice.”
“It was my sister,” he tried to explain, voice beseeching. “I had to save her.”
“You could have told me the truth. You could have trusted me.”
Once, the misery on his face would have broken her defenses and enticed her to step toward him, to try to comfort him. Now it only dug the pain he’d caused her even deeper into her body. Ceren watched the entire exchange silently, her eyebrows pulled together in concern and confusion. Evelayn couldn’t bear to look at Tanvir any longer and whirled to face Lorcan instead.
“Take me to her. I have to get my stone back.”
Lorcan gazed at her steadily. “Bind yourself to me and we can leave today.”
Everything felt wrong, twisted into knots. Part of her longed to return to her swan form, to the freedom from the worries of this body and this life. To retreat to the safety of the lake and the flock that had become hers. “Don’t ask that of me right now.”
His expression was still masked, but she could see the regret in his eyes, smell it weaving through his scent. “Please, Evelayn, Queen of Éadrolan. Bind yourself to me.”
“Why? Why do you insist on this?” She could barely contain her agitation. Why did he continue to push for her if he felt remorse about doing it? And then a sudden realization hit her. “That’s the bargain, isn’t it? This is part of your oath to her?”
He remained silent, but she saw the truth of it in his eyes.
“What are you talking about?” Tanvir spoke up from behind. “Don’t tell me you are actually considering this, Ev. I know I’ve made mistakes—that I’ve hurt you. But I never lied about how I feel. I do love you. Don’t do this. Don’t—”
“Stop,” she commanded without turning, and he immediately fell silent.
Lorcan’s gaze was unwavering as she deliberated. The way he’d treated her and the things he’d done were reprehensible—cause for her to loathe him. And she had. She’d hated him for ten long years. She’d spent so much of her life believing his heart was as cold as ice … yet he had never been anything but honest with her, even when she didn’t want to hear it. Except for those things he was bound to keep secret.
Could she do it?
Yes, there had been a moment, before Tanvir and Ceren burst in, when she’d felt … something … other than hatred for him. But to Bind herself to him—forever?
It’s the only way. You are the queen, she coached herself. It’s time to stop being selfish and do what you must for your kingdom. Lorcan had helped her kill his own father to free them from war, and he’d promised to help her get her stone back.
She needed her power—her kingdom needed it.
“I will.” She forced the words out before she could change her mind.
“You will?” Ceren burst out from behind her in shock.
“You will?” Tanvir spoke at the same time.
Lorcan stared at her; the most painful ghost of hope she’d ever seen crossed his face. “You will?” His question was soft, barely more than a whisper.
Being a queen means doing what you must for your kingdom. Even this.
“I will. I will Bind myself to you, Lorcan.”
THEY GATHERED IN THE SOLARIUM, A ROOM EVELAYN had rarely visited before but which had now become indispensable to the Draíolon, Ceren had explained as they’d hurried through the castle. Lorcan’s sentries cleared the hallways for them so no one saw the queen. She wasn’t ready for that—not yet.
With the change in the seasons and weather patterns because of the imbalance of power, what had once been mostly composed of flowers and bushes meant to bring peace and happiness to Light Draíolon in the winter had now been turned into a garden where much of the castle’s vegetables and fruits were grown.
When Evelayn had asked Lorcan why he’d picked this particular room for the Binding, he hadn’t looked up from the cravat he was tying when he quietly said, “I thought you would like it.” A sentiment that had baffled her. Why should he care what she would like? He never had before. She was merely a pawn to him. Wasn’t she?
The solarium was humid, as warm as a balmy summer day. They were greeted by the loamy scent of rich soil and thriving plants, interlaced with the perfume of the few flowers that still grew there. She could almost believe it was summer in here, not a world chilled by the early arrival of winter. Condensation smeared the view to the grounds beyond the glass walls, turning the outside—the reality of what her kingdom had become—into something hazy and not quite real.
Much like the fact that she was truly going through with this.
She still wore the velvet dress Lorcan had given her, the heavy material stifling in the warm room. Once she had agreed to Bind herself to him, Lorcan had allowed Ceren to take her and spend a few minutes to try to at least get a brush through her tangled hair. They’d simply braided it down her back, not wanting anything elaborate. She’d never dressed with more care than the night she’d made her Oath of Binding, promising herself to Tanvir in the spring. And all for nothing. He’d lied to her; he’d been willing to let her join their lives and hearts for eternity without admitting his true role in the war—and in her mother’s death. Evelayn had looked down at the ring on her right hand—the one that had brought her so much happiness and hope, but now only reminded her of Tanvir’s betrayal. In one quick movement, she’d pulled it off and set it down on the tabletop with a clang.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ceren had whispered as she worked out the tangles as gently as possible.
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Evelayn had simply said, “Yes, I do,” and Ceren hadn’t pushed her again. They’d remained silent for the next couple of minutes. But then, as she set down the brush and placed the diadem Evelayn hadn’t worn in a decade over the queen’s hair, Ceren spoke once more.
“Ev … I’m so sorry about Tanvir.”
Evelayn had stared at herself in the mirror, at the changes since that fateful night ten years earlier, and had to take a deep breath to keep her emotions in check. “Me too.” Then she’d turned away from the reflection that merely revealed all she’d lost, and stood. “Let’s go. The sooner I do this, the sooner I get my stone back.”
Now Ceren stood behind her, an unseen but comforting presence as Evelayn watched Lorcan. He was quietly speaking with Patryk, his High Priest. Patryk kept looking at her, his initial expression, that of unadulterated shock at seeing the queen of Éadrolan alive and standing in the solarium, diminished only slightly.
When Lorcan turned and gestured for her, Evelayn had to force her legs to move, to propel herself toward him—and an eternity of being Bound to the king of Dorjhalon. She couldn’t read his expression, and even the nuances of his scent were difficult to sort out from the rich, nearly overpowering fragrance of growing tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchinis, and many other vegetables. His eyes were shadowed in the fading light, which turned them to iron as the sun slowly sank toward the earth through the west-facing windows.
This male was her future now—the one who had hurt her and manipulated her, mind and body. But Tanvir had done the same … Was it any better that Lorcan hadn’t been secretive about it? Was there any hope of being able to trust this king who was to be by her side forever? A sudden terror overcame her as they faced each other. Her stomach clenched, making her feel as though she might vomit, at the same time that her heart began to race. She struggled not to gasp, even though her lungs weren’t working properly and tears were humiliatingly close to the surface. The heat of the room couldn’t penetrate the sudden chill that made her legs tremble and threaten to give out. You are stronger than this. Just breathe.
“Evelayn.” Lorcan spoke, but it sounded like he was standing across the room from her, not an arm’s length away.
Warm hands suddenly gripped hers, and she looked down in surprise to realize they were his. Strength and determination, grief but also hope, rippled through her with a flash of heat from the scar in her palm. Pure emotions, untainted by deceit or manipulation. An unexpected balm to the wild frenzy within her. The panic lessened and she glanced up at Lorcan, her eyes wide. He nodded slightly, a barely perceptible movement of his head.
Those emotions … they were his. Somehow she could feel what he was feeling. And they were not the emotions of a tyrant.
He was the true monster, not me. Lorcan’s words about his father—whom he had helped her kill—returned to her. Perhaps you can learn to see past the monster to the king inside. By making this choice, she was forever entwining her life with his. Evelayn stared into his eyes for a long moment and was shocked to realize her panic had receded entirely. It had been replaced by a strange sense of calm.
“Are you ready?” he murmured for her ears only.
Evelayn took a deep breath, wondering at the change within her and her sudden certainty. “Yes. I am.”
Lorcan stared into her eyes, his expression softening, which oddly had the opposite effect on her heart, which began to pound once more, but in an entirely different way this time.
“Shall we proceed?”
Lorcan startled as if surprised to realize they were not alone, and released her to turn to the High Priest. “Yes, you may begin.”
High Priest Patryk looked to her. “Queen Evelayn of Éadrolan, you have previously made an Oath of Intent to Bind yourself to Lord Tanvir of the Delsachts. In order to proceed, you must rescind your oath. Do you wish to do so?”
She tried not to let her mind go to the ceremony when she’d been so sublimely—and naïvely—happy. But images from that fateful Athrúfar night surfaced regardless. She knew mentally that it had been ten years ago, but she’d spent most of that time as the swan … To her heart, the oath she’d made to Tanvir still felt fresh—the wound of his betrayal was a raw, bleeding thing deep inside her. She forced herself to focus on the strange certainty she’d felt moments earlier when Lorcan had gripped her hands and brought her out of her panic.
“Yes, I wish to proceed.” The words came out like a poison being expelled from her body.
“Very well. Stretch forth your right hand.”
Evelayn did as instructed. Patryk produced a Binding rope and wrapped it around her arm. “You may speak the words to cancel your oath.”
She took a deep breath, and the words she’d said to Tanvir that night, before all those Draíolon gathered to feast and celebrate what should have been a joyous occasion, surged up. At least this was being done in private, with only a few Draíolon in attendance.
“I, Evelayn, High Queen of Éadrolan, rescind my Oath of Intent to Bind myself to Tanvir, Lord of the Delsachts. He shall forthwith be cut from my body and my heart, cast away and removed from my future. This I do, by the Light.” As she spoke, a chill began at the top of her skull and slowly cascaded down her body, until she felt as if she were coated in ice.
“So it shall be.” Patryk produced a silver knife and used it to slice the rope so that it fell to the ground, symbolizing the severed oath. The moment the rope was cut, the cold sensation released her, expelled with the oath she’d broken and cast away.
“It is done.” High Priest Patryk intoned, bending to pick up the ruined rope and casting it aside to be burned later. A pang of regret hit Evelayn—she wished it could be Teca here performing the ceremonies. But as she was powerless, the High Priestess was unable to do it. She wasn’t even aware that her queen had returned.
“King Lorcan and Queen Evelayn, please face each other and take each other’s wrists with your right hands,” Patryk instructed.
They turned to each other. When Lorcan wrapped his long fingers around her narrow wrist, Evelayn’s scar flashed hot once more, which oddly made her shiver.
The High Priest produced two beautiful chains made of polished silver links. Where the Oath of Intent to Bind was made with ropes, the actual Binding was performed with silver chains—symbolizing the unbreakable nature of the Binding, as opposed to the oath. The poorer families would borrow the temple’s chains, but the nobility often had their own, made with family crests engraved into the silver and passed down through generations. Such was the case with these—one was from her family, and one from his.
Evelayn stared down as Patryk wrapped the chains around their right arms, but she could feel Lorcan’s unwavering focus completely on her. A strange, tingling heat began in her hand and slowly rose up her arm as the priest finished twining the chains. She remembered feeling warmth when she had made her oath to Tanvir, but this sensation was far more intense.
“Evelayn, High Queen of Éadrolan, in the presence of these witnesses and the ancestors who watch over us from the Final Light, do you stand ready to Bind yourself to Lorcan, High King of Dorjhalon?”
Ceren made a small noise from behind her, but Evelayn ignored her. Instead, she finally made herself look up at the male who held her arm in his hand. She could feel the rough striation of his scar against the smooth skin on the inside of her wrist. When their eyes met, her breath suddenly caught in her throat. “Yes,” she managed to say.
“Lorcan, High King of Dorjhalon, in the presence of these witnesses and the ancestors who watch over us from the Final Light, do you stand ready to Bind yourself to Evelayn, High Queen of Éadrolan?”
He didn’t hesitate before replying, “Yes.”
The longer she looked into his silvery eyes, the faster her heart beat.
“Then you may proceed.”
Evelayn took a deep breath and spoke the sacred words that had been used since before memory to Bind Draíolon to one another. “By these chains unbreakable, forge
d through flame and iron, do I Bind myself to thee, Lorcan, High King of Dorjhalon. We are now one, never to be torn asunder, our lives welded together from this time forth. My Eternal Mate shall you be, and I yours. I so swear, by the Light of Day and the Dark of Night.” As she spoke, the warmth intensified, growing stronger; by the time she finished, her entire body burned with heat.
Lorcan’s fingers tightened around her wrist slightly, almost unconsciously as he repeated the words. She noticed for the first time that his skin had turned cold, while her heat continued to spread through her body, feeling as though living fire raced beneath her skin. She stared up at Lorcan, trapped in the power of his gaze, drawn into a spell she didn’t understand and in which she feared to lose herself entirely. When he finished, his hand on her wrist was freezing. Evelayn was shocked to realize she wished for him to take her in his arms—for his ice to cool the heat that raged within her.
“It is done,” the High Priest intoned, reaching out to place his hand on top of theirs and the chains. “I seal this Binding upon you both, never to be broken or severed, except upon death. Forthwith, you are of one heart and one soul. What is Bound this day be not torn asunder.”
“What is Bound this day be not torn asunder,” they all murmured, even Ceren.
“I pronounce you Eternal Mates.”
But Evelayn was hardly aware of anything beyond the depths of Lorcan’s eyes and the heat raging through her.
“I will not fail you,” Lorcan whispered, lifting his free hand to brush his cold fingers against her burning cheek. Despite herself, Evelayn turned her face into his touch, her eyes closing in relief.
“Is that steam?” Ceren gasped from behind her, and Evelayn jerked back, shocked to realize her friend was right. Steam had risen from where he touched her, as if they truly were made of fire and ice.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” the priest murmured.
Evelayn backed away hastily from Lorcan until the chains wrapped around their arms stopped her. Patryk hurried to unwind and remove them. The moment her arm was free, the heat drained from her body, until she was left chilled, even in the humidity of the solarium. Shaken, Evelayn turned her back to Lorcan, willing herself to regain control over her body and mind.