Page 30 of The Bound Blood
A flicker of movement at the end of the row makes both of us look up. Auron.
He moves out of the shadows and into our ring of light. He doesn’t sit. Doesn’t offer a greeting. Just studies us like we’re pieces on a board he’s still deciding whether to use or sacrifice.
“You’re late,” I say. He’s not really, his presence just makes me bristle.
He quirks a brow. “I wasn’t aware this was a formal meeting.”
“Everything’s formal when the Council might decide to bind someone’s magic,” Tamsin says brightly. “Or maybe trying to erase someone completely.”
Auron’s gaze flicks to her. “They wouldn’t waste the energy erasing anyone, that takes old blood magic. It’s clear your intelligence isn’t what brought you to this school.”
“Aw. Flattery.”
I step between them before the sarcasm spirals. “What information do you have?”
He reaches into his coat, pulls out a thin sheet of parchment, and sets it on the table between us. “Tomorrow’s Council schedule. Your friend isn’t on it.”
My stomach sinks.
“But two hours have been blocked out under a coded event,” he adds. “Location: Chamber of Compliance. You do the math.”
Tamsin swears under her breath.
“Then we’re almost out of time,” I say.
Auron nods once. “I can’t delay them. And I can’t be seen defending her again. My father already suspects I’ve gone soft.”
“Right,” Tamsin says. “Because having a personality or a heart is a punishable offense in your family.”
Auron ignores her. “But if a student movement—completely unrelated to me, of course—were to spark enough attention and unrest, the Council might delay. They won’t act under scrutiny.”
I study him. “Why do you even care?”
Something flickers behind his eyes. Not warmth, not remorse. But maybe something closer to regret.
“She’s been treated like a threat since the day she arrived,” he says, low. “I know what that’s like.”
Tamsin falters, just for a second. And I almost do too—because I want to believe that this is about more than political advantage or inherited loyalty. But then I remember who he is.
“You’ve seen her?” I ask quietly.
There’s the smallest pause. Too small for most to notice. But I do.
“I’ve seen enough,” Auron says smoothly. “More than either of you.”
Tamsin’s hand curls against the tabletop. My stomach tightens.
Because I haven’t seen her. The Council rejected every request I’ve made. And Tamsin? Half-witch, half-fae, entirely unwanted in their world.
He doesn’t say he’sspokento Lindsay. He doesn’t say when or where or how. And that pause was just long enough to be a lie wrapped in a truth.
“Didn’t think so,” he adds dryly, before either of us can respond. “So if we’re done getting sentimental, maybe we focus on the part where we stop them from destroying her.”
I grit my teeth and press my palms to the table, grounding myself in what matters. I can be suspicious later. Right now, we need momentum.
“We’ve already started,” I say, lifting my gaze to meet his. “The Council just doesn’t know it yet.”
Auron arches a brow. “Do tell.”
