Page 14 of Godbound
My breath catches. My heart lurches. The eyes I thought had no more tears left begin to burn once more.
“... you’re lucky Archer was sent away with his troops,” her voice rings through the air. Brisk, scolding, and more beautiful than any melody.
Then the sound that unmoors me completely— the turning knob.
“My husband would beat you senseless, Mael. Prince or not?—”
The door swings open. Eva stands silhouetted against the warm glow of the fire in the antechamber, her deep brown eyes locking onto mine. Behind her, Mael lingers in the doorway, his head bowed in quiet shame. He must have gone to get her. A sliver of gratitude blooms in my chest.
“Ray,” she gasps.
In the next breath, she is on the floor beside me, arms outstretched. Panic claws through me. I half-slide, half-crawl away, curling my arms behind my back.
She freezes, shock flickering over her perfect, heart-shaped face.
“My hands,” I rasp. My voice is so raw, it scrapes against my ears. I force my fingers into the light. The dimness of my bedchamber shrouds them, but Eva already knows. She understands.
Without hesitation, she strips off her silk gloves, revealing the warm brown skin of her elegant hands. The ruby on her right ring finger glows even in the low light, a silent emblem of her status as a married woman. Her raven curls, adorned with braids and jeweled pins, gleam like polished onyx.
She tosses the gloves to me. I catch them, sliding them on with mechanical precision. Then, at last, I collapse into her arms.
She holds me so tightly I can scarcely breathe. But it isn’t enough. I cling to her with the ferocity of a drowning creature grasping the only anchor in a storm-tossed sea.
After a long moment, she clears her throat, her voice steady against my hair.
“I’d love to hear how this happened,” she murmurs.
I pull back, inhaling deeply, my lungs finally remembering how to expand. I am not alone. Eva is here. She comes from a family of power. Her husband is a celebrated army general. And she is the smartest person I know. She will know what to do. She will know how to fix this.
Eva turns to Mael, snapping her fingers. “Bring her water. Don’t just stand there like a fallen log.”
I nearly smile at her brazenness. If only my lips remembered how.
Mael hesitates, then obeys. But doesn’t dare hand it to me directly. Instead, he passes it to Eva, who huffs in disapproval.
I take it, my fingers unsteady as I drink. Once I finish, we move to the receiving room of my apartments. The soft couch beneath me is a cruel contrast to the hardness in my chest.
“I have no memory of what happened,” I admit. My voice sounds thin, even to my own ears. I shift my gaze to Mael, who leans against the wall, his face unreadable. “You don’t remember either?” I finally ask, my throat tightening.
Eva watches us, her arms folded tightly, tension rigid in her shoulders. Her expression is a knife’s edge. “Finally lived out your childhood dream?” she states flatly, her words cut and puncture.
Mael flinches, just barely.
But the emotion behind her words isn’t just accusation, it’s pain. I’ve known Eva long enough to recognize it. The slight tremor in her breath, the way her fingers dig into her own arms. She’s furious. At Mael. At me. At this entire situation.
And beneath it—guilt.
Because she is safe. She, of all people, will never be cast aside. Never be branded and discarded like the women of Rust Hollow. Her name, her marriage, all of it protects her from the curse.
“I always knew you wanted her, Mael,” Eva continues, her voice cold but fraying at the edges. “But I never imagined you could be so cruel.”
Mael’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing. His silence pushes forward a memory, a phrase he said to Ryker as we left the plaza.
You told me to take her, brother. So I will.
It had sounded so casual then, almost careless. Now the words return like a fulfilled prophecy.
I shake off the memory, and stare at Eva, stunned by the certainty in her words. She has made the occasional off-hand comment about Mael, but never voiced her suspicions so boldly, or openly.
