As Elira went back to her quarters, Lucien by her side, alert but silent, the night air hung heavy. Even though she had long since perfected the art of stillness, her fingers were still shaking. She opened her door and breathed, but only briefly.
She walked over to the tall mirror next to the fireplace. Beneath her skin, a glimmer of gold flickered across the glass's surface.
Never again.
Slowly, she unbuttoned her collar. A new mark had appeared beneath the hollow of her throat, just above her heart; it was jagged, unlike the flowing lines of the Virelle crest. This was broken. Divide.
When Lucien saw it, he moved forward. "What is that?"
"The Split Sigil," she uttered, barely raising her voice. "It only forms when a Virelle bond starts to split."
"Divide?"
With a steady voice, she looked him in the eye. "There are two bloodlines. I was bound by two men. The curse is unable to make a decision. Thus, it attempts to tear me apart.
Lucien tightened his jaw. "The sigil is then destroyed. Break the curse.
"It's not that easy. It might break if we attempt to break it too soon. She hesitated. "Death one of you."
Lucien's face went white. "Cael."
She gave a nod. "The inverse curse is with him. He is more than just a danger. He is the second half that is bound by this curse.
Lucien inhaled and regained his composure. "So, what should we do? Hold on. Observe it develop?"
A flash of blue ignited in the mirror before she could respond. The House of Thorne, a well-known sigil, glowed dimly against the glass.
"Yvarin," Elira muttered.
She was being called by the duke.
Dark, tall, and silent, the House of Thorne had always been unique. This time, Elira came in by herself. As was customary, Lucien stayed at the threshold.
With his hands clasped behind his back, Duke Yvarin stood in the moon chamber. Calm amusement filled his dark silver eyes as they met hers.
He said, "You've returned from the Binding Chamber."
"With more questions than answers."
He took a step forward. "And a second bond that blazes through your veins."
She curled her fingers. "You were aware."
"I had a suspicion. It was not meant for Cael Dorneth to live. However, love, particularly forbidden love, has a way of haunting destiny.
Elira's tone grew piercing. "He is not a specter. He is still alive. He also recalls.
Yvarin's eyes grew gloomy. "Then you're in danger. He is, too.
She scowled. "You say that like it's not my fault."
"Because it isn't. Isolation was always the purpose of the curse. not give you away. The curse is breaking—or changing—when the sigil splits.
She took a step forward. "Share your knowledge with me. No puzzles. No partial truths.
He gave her a direct look. "The Virelle curse forbids you from falling in love. Not Lucien. Not Cael. It thrives on suffering. However, it will demand blood if it has to choose between the two.
A thick as ash silence descended.
"So," Elira said in a fragile voice, "this is a death sentence."
"Not if you choose."
She winced. "How am I going to decide between them? My anchor is Lucien. My beginning is Cael.
Yvarin looked out the window. "Then you have to find your demise. The curse won't end until then.
Elira sat by herself in her private garden back at the estate, her hands etched in long silver lines by the moonlight.
She was dressed simply in a white shift. The marble floor exposed her bare feet.
Without breaking her silence, Lucien walked up quietly.
"You should rest," he advised.
"I have trouble falling asleep. Not when everything is falling apart."
His knees brushed hers as he sat next to her.
She really did look at him. The storm behind his eyes, the hard line of his jaw.
"If I told you that this curse might force me to kill him," she said, "how would you respond?"
Lucien did not recoil. "I would then assist you in carrying the blade."
Her breath caught.
He looked in her direction. "To you, I don't care who he was. I'm interested in your current self. as well as what we're constructing. I would never force you to make a decision.
She sensed the thread between them once more. Not emotion. Not recollection. However, something more powerful. Something was earned.
She muttered, "You were never supposed to be involved in this."
"Maybe not," he replied. "However, I remain here."
She was given a sealed scroll with a red crest the following morning.
Cael's.
Where the oath was sworn, meet me. By themselves.
Her heart hurt.
The ancient forest. The fountain was broken. The circle of stones where two stupid teenagers had etched their names into a holy tree's roots.
She left.
Leaning against the gnarled bark, Cael was already there. Through his shirt, the sigil on his chest glowed dimly.
At first, he remained silent. She didn't either.
Next:
He remarked, "You still wear the ring."
She cast her gaze downward. Her right hand's ironwood band. There, but faint.
"I never removed it."
"Why?"
"Because I kind of hoped you'd come back."
Cael spoke softly. "Do you love him?"
Elira took a swallow. "I cherish you both. in various ways. However, love is unimportant to this curse.
He moved forward. "I do."
She raised her head. He extended his hand to take hers.
"Then help me break it," she said. "Not by blood. However, by truth.
He leaned closer. No kiss. Took a breath.
Then tell me everything. All lies. Every memory. Every quiet moment.
She gave a nod.
So she started speaking the truth under the tree that had once been their names.
Everything.