Page 16 of Bound in Violet Ink

“I then made a request to your lady’s maid in a letter penned just for her, and she confirmed the tattoo on your neck and what it looked like—” my eyes widen, remembering when she touched it while braiding my hair and asked how long I’ve had it “—and while I don’t know the circumstances for your arrival at Silas’s court, I can easily surmise you were not taken from a Seelie home. ”

The concept is painfully liberating. I knew I didn’t belong, and yet this means my identity is rooted with creatures I’ve been told to hate. “Who am I then?” I ask, my voice trembling more than I care for.

“Your body and soul have been criminally neglected, Victoria,” he says, raising one of his hands out as if I should take it and get off the bed, the request suggesting so many simultaneous things. “ I will be your liberator.”

I didn’t know Kane was so socially fluent. Whatever part of me craved him while alone in my tower is absolutely gluttonous with everything he just said. I swallow thickly. “You have a war at your doorsteps to navigate, Kane. Why not just lock me away until it’s done?”

He holds the hand closer, the tips of my fingers rising as if I want to throw all caution to the wind.

“I crave this connection more than I want to admit. My attention to detail will be severely impacted until you are taken care of first.”

Through unexplained understandings, I know Kane can feel me giving in.

I can sense it through the way the tips of his fingers reach out further to graze mine, as if proving that his touch can be gentle.

My hand slides into his while I stare him in the eyes, trying desperately to discern what’s true.

His skin against mine is foreign, yet familiar. Like a warmth I didn’t know I was missing. “I know much better than this,” I say, although I truthfully don’t care at all.

The left corner of his mouth tilts up slightly into the smallest smile. “And yet you wrote me that letter.”

“I don’t know a thing about you,” I quip, like a drowning man sucking in water before he succumbs.

“We will have plenty of time to learn.”

I grip his hand tighter, and something needy flashes in his eyes.

For whatever reason, holding this much power over him fills me with a new kind of purpose.

“Please just answer this truthfully—what exactly do you want from me? I am familiar with arranged partnership. I don’t mind knowing what you truly want from this.

I’ll—” damn it all. “I’ll agree to this as long as you’re honest with me. Please just give me that.”

I swear there’s a low grumble that emanates from his chest, gripping my hand in return as he raises it up to his face, slowly running my skin along his nose to breathe me in.

I’m utterly weak at the knees for such a simple gesture.

“I’ve had two years to contemplate what a fated connection would mean.

I admit, I grew greedy over time.” Silver eyes flash up at mine.

“I want the deep bond that is promised, for your body and heart to be my reprieve. To utterly trust and love someone, and have it be returned. For that, I’ll hand you the entirety of any kingdom you desire. ”

What do I say to that? The man has ensnared me since I first saw him, imprisoned by all the things my imagination could conjure. Now he’s here , holding my hand, telling me things I’ve only ever heard in dreams.

“Just don’t hurt me,” I say, even quieter.

“If we solidify the bond, you will have every leverage to break me, little flower. Hurting you would be the end of me.”

That’s the kind of bargain I can feel safe within.

The more I observe him, the more it’s clear that he also seems to be under a spell.

Unlike me, he seems to embrace it. And I want it.

I want it so badly I’m terrified of it not existing, which means I’m pushing it away so the disappointment is only minimal.

But… I’m done questioning my life.

I nod at him, and lean slightly forward to show I want down. Placing my other hand in his, he helps me onto the floor. “Did whatever you sedate me with have anything else laced in it?” I ask, feeling the heat in my cheeks. “Anything to aid in persuasion?”

His grin continues to melt me. “No, that’s the faintest existence of our bond, desperate to unite.”

My brows raise. “It’s desperate alright.”

He raises that hand of mine back to his face and brushes his lips against my skin.

The heat of his breath and mouth against my flesh may as well be the final act of seduction.

My entire arm nearly goes limp at such a gesture, having never been so swept off my feet by any suitor.

He then raises those liquid silver eyes to meet mine, smirking at what must be the effect he has on me.

When he releases my hand, I almost want to slap him for not following through.

Sure, I had hoped, when younger, that whoever Silas chose for me would somehow magically be a perfectly romantic partner.

To actually feel desire for someone that I choose.

And now I want this man.

Kane moves to the bedside table, opening a black leather bag to remove a vial—flecked with pearlescence—holding it between his fingers as he turns around to present it to me.

“What is this?”

“The moon’s serum.”

My gaze snaps to his. We both share a silent conversation, because this is more than just biting my neck. This initiates the bond, allowing his bite to be one of many steps to bring us to permanence in an ancient rite.

What shocks me the most is that I want to rip it from his hands and down it all.

Let him bite me. This is the most romance I’ve gotten in my entire life, and he’s right, to feign Silas, I need an army.

And mating with Kane would be the perfect revenge.

And if the fates care about me at all, I’ll get to enjoy my days rather than loathe them.

It’s not as if the concept of marrying a man for my freedom is new to me. If anything, this is an opportunity I don’t want to waste.

Taking it from his hand, I uncork it with a soft pop. With my other hand, I pinch the side of my finger so I can dig my fang into it, a bubble of blood forming that drips into the vial.

The scent from inside is wild—feral and sweet, like moonlight on bloodied stone.

“Well,” he murmurs, eyes narrowing with pleased surprise. “You’re quite eager.”

“Kiss my hand like that more often and I’ll grow into this without a problem,” I say, handing it to him with my head held high. “I don’t want to go back to Silas. And you’re right, if I go out there without belonging to any court, then it’s only a matter of time.”

He chuckles low in his throat, piercing his own finger with the same precision—no wince, no pause. His blood meets mine inside the vial like two rivers converging. “And what was your initial plan?”

“I was going to somehow make it to the Everwoods.”

“That’s two months of riding on horseback.”

“I know,” I sigh, shame brushing the edges of my voice. “I’ve never even been outside the castle alone. Honestly, I’d have been caught in the first week. But... I was willing to give it my all.”

He doesn’t gloat. He simply drinks—half the vial, head tilting slightly as the serum slides down his throat. Then he offers the rest to me.

I hold the half-emptied thing, hesitating when considering all those who follow him will have to sacrifice something for me. “And you’re okay with having your court defend me?”

“I’m in need of a suitor, and taking you would provoke Silas enough that I think half my people would support it just for that alone.”

I tip the vial back and drink. Fire and starlight twist down my throat, blooming inside my chest like I’ve just watered a plant that’s been waiting for its nectar. “So, we’re both doing this to piss off Silas?”

A sharp, haunted anger flashes in his eyes. “It’s a common denominator for acting swiftly, but we’re both here because of the pulse between us. Don’t ever forget that.”

My breath comes deeper now, slower. I’m transported back to that first, ink-smudged letter I dared to send him, how my hand trembled, how my heart didn’t.

It’s like being stained in his scent finally lets my mind be a little freer, not as obsessed with closing the distance.

“It won’t be a problem remembering when you haunted me nearly every night. ”

That deeper hunger, almost vulnerable, appears in his eyes again.

My lips slightly part, that surge of need returning, and it’s then that he wraps that hand around the nape of my neck as if it’s always belonged on my body.

There’s no time to think about it before his fangs pierce my flesh, my body tensing.

The heat of his mouth and my blood make me gasp, which turns to a whimper when he digs deeper for the sake of it before he pulls back, licking my neck so pain and pleasure uncomfortably intertwine.

When he finally pulls back, I see it written in his eyes that something has changed between us, irrevocably.

“There’s no second vial,” I realize out loud.

He licks my blood from his lips. “You’ll return it once you’re within my court.”

The strangest thing happens within me. It’s as if I can feel what my presence does to him, and a deep, concerning need within me wants to kiss him terribly. “You really do want me,” I say, the reassurance in such a sensation, the final act of approval I needed.

“Is that surprising?”

“I’ve never been wanted for me ,” I confess, like cleaning out an old wound. What would that be like? To have a man want my affection because it’s mine ?

I don’t realize I’m almost lightheaded until he raises a hand to gently grip my jaw, thumb brushing just over my bottom lip, the first physical interaction to suggest something more .

His eyes search mine, not for permission because he knows he already has that, but for connection. And gods help me, I give it freely.

Because something inside me is cracking open.