Page 39 of A Bond So Deadly

Unlike bonding which is a more natural connection between two or more living beings, like when an animali chooses a warrior, binding can happen between a living being and a soul that does not have a body. To bind, a ritual must be performed that includes chanting a series of ancient words, and the souls connect. If the living host dies, the connected soul will also be lost. At first, I’m only thinking of the lost souls in the shadow realm. It makes me wonder whether anyone has tried to bind with them before. But then my mind goes to the shadows, Elgen and Tarlaz. They haven’t ever explained what they are. Only that somehow, they were here when the academy was built and they became trapped within these walls. Are they lost souls connected to this building? I can’t answer that, but I do know they’ve been trapped in this place for centuries. They’ve been hoping I could find a way to free them, and a surge of excitement goes through me as I wonder if I’m onto something. If I could bind them to someone, then they could leave this place. It’s not the same as being free, but it could be a good start. Then, maybe, we could find them bodies of their own.

I file that thought for later and move on. I’m busy reading about a nightmarish shadow creature that lives in mountain caves, when a sharp pain stabs my stomach. Gasping, I grip the book tighter.

“What’s the matter, treasure?” Galen’s smooth words caress my ear.

I breathe through the pain until it disappears. “It’s nothing,” I say, forcing a smile. “Have I mentioned that these journals are going to give me nightmares?”

Galen’s still frowning when he replies, “I’m sure that’s not something you have to worry about. Knox will never let you have nightmares again.”

My breath catches. Oh right. Because he wouldn’t risk letting Professor Yevar find me. I nod and readjust my position, returning my focus to the journal. As I shift, my creature’s egg presses against my chest. “Do you think we’ll find any information on her in here?” I ask softly.

“Her?”

I gesture to my phoenix’s egg.

“Perhaps,” Galen replies thoughtfully.

I swallow. “I mean, she should have hatched by now, right? This can’t be normal, can it?”

Galen’s lips thin. “We have no idea what is normal for this creature. I’ve never encountered one like it before, so I cannot say what is expected behavior. Raith has heard of them but even his knowledge is limited. It is possible that this journal may be your best hope of gaining information.”

I nod absently, because it’s the conclusion I’d already come to.

“It will be good for you to learn of all these creatures,” Galen goes on. “We can’t be sure what zenali the queen will order you to question, and any information could help during the interrogations.”

“Interrogations? Do you have to call it that? Can’t we just call it, having a conversation?”

Galen arches a brow, but his expression is sympathetic. “I call it that because I have no doubt you’ll have an audience, and an interrogation is what the queen will be expecting. She’s not interested in a conversation with the zenali. Never has been. That woman thinks with her sword and her shadows. Anything outside of that in her eyes is wasting time.”

My brows lower as I think on that. “Yeah, see I still don’t get it. Humans were brought here and turned into shadow warriors to protect this land, but she doesn’t seem to care about the zenali or the creatures here.”

“I agree with you, mate. It has never made much sense. I suppose her focus is on saving the realms as a whole, rather than any individual creature. And now that the war has dragged on, I’m sure her view on this has only strengthened.”

“She wants to win the war no matter the cost,” I mumble, still feeling uneasy about it.

Trying not to dwell on it, I read for a while longer, not wanting to put the book down. It’s funny, reading non-fiction has never interested me. I mean, why would I read about the real world when I can read about faerie smut or possessive dragon shifters and escape into the pages? But these journals are different, and this world is incredible. There’s something about the way the oracle writes, too. Something about the flow of his words and the emotion in his stories. He’s not just listing the characteristics and habits of the creatures. No, he talks about his relationship with them, like each of them is one of his friends. Even though I’m mostly reading about predators with terrifying abilities, somehow I feel warm inside. I might have joked about the journals giving me nightmares earlier, but truthfully, these stories don’t fill me with fear at all, though I know they should.

I’m almost through Volume Three when the pain hits again, more intense this time. I close my eyes, hunching as my stomach muscles cramp. Oh holy crap. Ouchie.

Galen’s hand that had been stroking my hair stills. “You can’t tell me this is nothing, treasure.”

“It’s not nothing,” I answer. “It’s just…nothing I can’t handle.” Okay, so yeah I’m a liar, because I definitely can’t handle this. The pain feels like someone is stabbing me in the stomach over and over. The urge to bond rises in me, like an aching need that rides the undercurrent of my pain, but a part of me feels like I should hide it. Because I’m worried about what will happen if I sleep with the guys and the pain doesn’t disappear. The agony is clearly linked to my urge to bond with them, but bonding is out of the question. So what will happen when simply being with them is no longer enough? I won’t damn the realms, but I know my mates might. And that terrifies me.

Galen narrows his eyes at me. “How long has it been?”

I play dumb. “Since what?”

“Since you were last with Knox and Thane.”

I turn my head, trying to focus on his face, but the edges are blurry. The pain is making it hard to focus. Dammit. I know hoping it will go away on its own is foolish, but I pretend anyway. “You mean at lunch time?”

Galen’s lips brush against my ear, his hot breath making me shiver. “I mean, since they were last filling you and making you scream their names.”

Oh holy smut gods. Warmth gathers between my thighs, though if I’m honest, I’ve wanted Galen from the moment he sat me on his lap.

“Oh that,” I say, my cheeks heating. “I guess it depends on how long we’ve been down here. Twelve hours, maybe?” Another wave of agony goes through me, and my fingers curl tighter around the journal.

Galen gently plucks the book from my fingers and my phoenix’s egg from her sling, and he carefully uses his shadows to deposit them on the small table beside our chair.