Page 25 of Ruin of Revenants

He pushed me against a wall. Angry green eyes seared into me as Archer’s voice rang inside my mind once more: We don’t need the entire castle knowing about our blood bond.

“We can’t tell anyone the truth?” I shifted uncomfortably. “Why the secrecy about the…” I paused, reluctant to say the words aloud with the prince’s anger.

“Think about it. If someone knew that all it took was slaying you to kill me, the crown prince?” Archer raised his eyebrows for emphasis. “You’re a liability, Feathers. We’re safer if no one knows about this bond.” He pulled away to put more distance between us, but remained close enough that we could speak in low tones. “It’s a rare and…” –he hesitated, cringing when he settled on a word– “intimate bond. It takes energy and focus, but either of us, bound by blood as we are, can speak into one another’s minds. But no, neither of us can read each other’s thoughts.”

I leaned back against the wall, my breaths uneven as I skated a hand up and down my arm, trying to chase away the unpleasant way the hairs on it had raised. I was suddenly freezing, suddenly longing to climb out of my own skin. Though it was a relief to know that Archer couldn’t hear my thoughts, knowing he could invade my mind with his voice was bad enough. Knowing we shared an intimate bond that tethered me to my enemy made me sick to my stomach.

Archer had looked away. I could see his profile in the starlight spilling through the windows across the room, highlighting his clenched jaw. The hand hanging at his side was fisted.

You did this to us, I snapped, forcing all my will toward him.

He stiffened, his gaze snapping to mine, before his lips curled into a lazy smirk. How do you figure that?

Hearing my voice in your head is just as unpleasant for you as it is for me, I thought smugly. At least this connection is good for annoying you. And none of this would have happened if you hadn’t gotten injured and lured me into healing you.

However, I could see what he meant about the process of speaking into his mind being exhausting—it reminded me almost of shouting, like I was using all my internal energy to yell across the distance between us, to force the words into that dense brain of his. It wasn’t as easy as speaking aloud.

“Lured,” he scoffed.

“Can this connection be undone?” I murmured.

Archer’s expression soured, but he still didn't answer. “It’s part of the bond, so might as well get used to the sound of my sultry voice, Feathers.”

“Very well, but if there are any other important connections involved with this bond, I want to know now.” I crossed my arms, waiting for him to respond.

Archer raised a brow. “You are in no position to make demands. Don’t get your feathers ruffled.” His lip twitched before he burst out chuckling at his own joke.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Good. Suffering is what you and your kind deserve.”

“You know nothing about my kind. Or me. Or what we deserve.” My voice cracked. In my mind’s eye, I pictured Bren. Mama. Brook and Aunt Aurora and countless other friends and neighbors. Everyone who’d found refuge in Everhaven. I ached for home, for my family.

Archer’s sharp voice cut into my thoughts. “On the contrary, I know plenty about your kind. Do you think you’re the first phoenix shifter I’ve met?”

My eyes widened, but Archer had already whirled on his heel and stormed away. Follow me—it’s time to prepare you for our next mission, he demanded in my mind.

And because I didn’t really have a choice unless I wanted to wander the halls and risk facing the king again, I obeyed.

Chapter Fourteen

Archer

Once I’d called on Orchid to help Isoria change into an outfit she could spar in, I’d left her in her new room and prepared my personal sparring room, gathering practice swords and summoning another servant to bring a pitcher of water. When Orchid was finished, she brought the death-lover to me per my orders and left us with a curtsey.

Isoria’s gold eyes studied the wall of weapons warily, perhaps not knowing that they were all dulled for practice use. “You brought me here to fight?” she asked hesitantly.

“You need to practice. Do you know how to defend yourself?”

Her brow wrinkled. “Do I look like a warrior?” she asked dryly.

“Being close to me, with our lives tied together, means you’re going to have to learn to protect yourself to keep us both alive. Especially because we can’t be separated by more than a mile. You’re going to have to join me on dangerous missions, and that means you’ll need to be useful and not get yourself killed.”

I tossed her a practice sword, and she caught it clumsily, almost letting it tumble to the floor. “Missions?”

“Father might have us cowering behind the barrier, but I’m not abandoning my people. When they need me, I venture out to help them.”

She went silent, as if mulling over the fact that I wasn’t an unfeeling brute like she seemed to think.