Saigner (verb) to bleed

I was going to die. Right here, in Bastien's arms. He would be the last thing I'd ever see.

Thick, warm trails were racing down my neck as the lancing pain of the barbs intensified. In my desperation, I clawed at the choker, trying to stop it, sobbing, "I'm sorry," intermittently like the damn thing could be reasoned with.

"Don't say anything else," Bastien ordered in a calm but commanding voice. He grabbed my wrists and held me still when I didn't stop. "You triggered a loyalty condition. This will stop once it believes you are no longer a threat."

Bastien dragged me, bleeding and sobbing, onto his lap. My back flat against his chest. His arms wrapped around my middle, holding my bloodstained hands in his.

I tried to take long pulls of breath, but the pain was all-consuming, and all I could think about was making it stop.

"Shhh," he breathed into my ear. "It's alright. I've got you. You're going to be okay."

I tried to focus on the rise and fall of his chest, mimicking the slow, steady rhythm of his breath instead of sending all my attention to the pain.

My frantically beating heart seemed to chant: live, live, live.

He opened the bond between us, and a rush of calm settled over me. Like I was floating, drifting in its current, and the only place I wanted to be was here, with him. Forever. He would carry me, just like the water.

I wasn't going to die. Bastien wouldn't let me. And I wouldn't let myself die, either, by giving up. Not yet. Not when there was so much to do. So much to live for.

After a few moments, it seemed to work, and the barbs retracted from my skin, leaving behind a burning sensation that throbbed with every frantic beat of my heart.

Thank the goddess.

Tears leaked down my cheeks when I closed my eyes.

A bone-deep exhaustion settled into my body that no amount of sleep could fix. I was tired. Tired of teetering on the edge of death, waiting for when it might catch me in its claws.

This sick game was upending everything.

Maybe the old woman in the water was right, and I was a black cloud that had settled over Bastien's life.

"I—I'm sorry," I choked out through more tears.

And the worst part was that I couldn't explain what I was sorry for.

Bastien said nothing for a long moment. He simply held me in his arms, breathing in and out, rocking me gently back and forth. Back and forth. Like I was a child who'd awoken from a terrifying nightmare.

After some time had passed, I made the mistake of opening my eyes and saw the blood.

Our joined hands were covered in sticky red.

Dizziness swam through my senses, and I closed my eyes again and focused on nothing but Bastien and the places where our bodies connected.

I was strong enough to handle this. It wasn't too much.

Because...I had him to support me.

Despite the injury to my neck, this might be the safest I'd ever felt. Here in his arms, I knew nothing could harm me.

Save for...my family.

Another sob crawled up my throat. Did I want to be beholden to the vow binding this choker anymore? Or could I protect Sera in a different way?

With my eyes closed and a sense of safety surrounding me, I let my thoughts drift.

And as they did, I came across an anomaly. Mama had ensured I couldn't betray the name of my coven with a loyalty condition on the spell, but I could talk about removing it without triggering the barbs. Bastien and I had proven just that.

Why?

The more I pondered that question, the clearer the answer became. Mama didn't think removal was an option. Either because she believed I'd never be brave enough to attempt it or because she didn't think it was possible.

I was there when she sealed it so only a true-born Proctor could remove it.

I didn't know what to do with that information, but it was interesting just the same.

Then another thought struck me: Had she crafted the spell that way because...because I wasn't a true-born Proctor, as Bastien suggested?

The force of that thought landed like a barb to the heart.

I'd lived my whole life feeling like I didn't belong in my family. Maybe I'd felt that way and was treated that way because I didn't.

If I wasn't my mother's daughter...then who was I?

A chill of unease crept down my spine, and I shuddered in Bastien's arms.

He hugged me tighter. "We will get this cursed collar off you," he whispered. "I swear it."

His lips lingered against my cheek, and I leaned into the cool feeling of his skin against mine.

I made the decision, right then and there, to let my trust and love for him lead me. Maybe I didn't have to bear this burden alone.

"How?" I asked. My voice nothing more than a raw, hopeful rasp.

"The powers you inherited from Temperance Kemp are born from strong, demonic magick. You can take it off yourself after I unbind you."

I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

"I don't think that will work," I replied, reflecting on my thoughts about not being Mama's daughter and the conditions of the spell.

"Why?"

As guilty as I felt, I couldn't answer that question without triggering the spell's magick again.

"I just don't think it will."

He was silent for a time, and so was I. Both of us pondering the same impossible thing.

Finally, Bastien said, "I could summon Damien or Diana and demand they fix this mess."

I opened my eyes, shifting to face him and wincing as the fresh wounds in my neck screamed with pain.

"Summon the gods? Bastien, I thought that was dangerous."

He held my gaze, unflinching in the face of my terror.

"Summoning a god to earth is like ripping a star from the sky," Bastien explained. Strangely, this fact didn't help convince me that it was a good idea. But he continued, undeterred. "Their presence has unknown consequences. The water witches learned as much when they summoned their goddess to strengthen their powers. In doing so, it led to the annihilation of their people."

"Then clearly, we shouldn't do it."

"But I won't be asking for more power," he rushed to say. "I'll be asking them to set you free."

He looked so determined. I could see the intensity of it reflected in the cool blue pools of his eyes. And once again, I heard the old woman in the water's voice, haunting me. Telling me that I was a black cloud.

No. No.

I couldn't let him do this.

"If you're right and I am spellbound, setting me free gives me power." I shook my head, but Bastien didn't look convinced. "No. I won't risk it. We are not summoning a god. There has to be another way."

"Finding another way will take time. And time isn't something we have much of right now. We need to leave for the Lawless Lands. Plans are set for tomorrow night."

I stared determinedly back at him. "Then we leave as planned."

He sighed in exasperation. "I already told you how difficult it will be for me to leave your side for a second if you cannot protect yourself. If anything happened to you..."

His voice trailed off, but I knew what he was thinking because I felt the same way about him.

I'd been alone so long that it was hard to rely on others, but we couldn't do this alone. And truthfully, we didn't have to.

I had my familiars.

My gaze wandered to the two wolves at the foot of my bed. Both of them appeared to be listening intently to our conversation. I didn't understand much about familiars, as Witches of the Light didn't make familiar bonds, but I knew they were magickal beings tied to me.

They'd killed for me more than once already.

"The wolves will protect me when you cannot."

"That's not enough," Bastien argued.

Maybe he was right. Just then, as if fed to me, the image of three smiling faces flooded my thoughts.

For the first time in my life, I had people who cared for me. People who I could rely on.

"And so will Tansy and Devlinn and Alec," I rushed to say.

At this, Bastien's brows cinched together. "You want to bring your pillow whispers into the Lawless Lands?"

I stared at him hotly. "They're my friends. And they have magick."

"Magick they've sworn never to use again."

He made a good point. Devlinn and Tansy had pain in their past. I didn't know what it was, but I knew they'd left their covens for the safety of Chateau Rose. Choosing to work as pillow whisperers rather than serve their gods.

I couldn't make them go with me, but I could ask it of them, as...friends.

"I'll tell them the truth and let them decide whether they want to charge their powers or not."

Bastien stared skeptically at me. "What truth?"

I knew I couldn't mention our matebond. That was a secret that none could be trusted with. Bastien made his most trusted advisors take a blood oath to stay silent. But, I could remind them of Bastien's purpose.

He'd offered them a safe haven. Maybe they'd want to see that protection offered to others.

I realized how much my position on this had changed; I'd started to believe that the world wasn't so black and white and that the enemy wasn't as well-defined as I thought.

"I tell them they could help create a safe haven for those who live in fear."

"But still...." Bastien said.

His position was softening. I could sense it.

"Devlinn knew my wolves were familiars," I explained. "He knew about the spell that gave me those powers. Those witches are valuable beyond their use in a bedroom. Anyone with eyes can see that."

"And what of Alec? He doesn't harbor magick. The only thing he harbors are feelings for you."

The disdain in his voice made the side of my mouth quirk up in a grin.

So, the sticking point for him was that I'd included Alec.

The man I'd almost kissed while playing a drinking game meant to get the players naked. 

I'd never forget the way Bastien stormed inside my chambers. The way he'd stared at my nearly naked body. The way my skin heated with desire. The way he'd roared at everyone to leave.

Then...the way he'd drawn the alcohol from my blood.

I lifted my hand to touch his cheek but stopped short when I saw red coating my skin. "Don't tell me you're jealous."

He grunted. "I'm observant. Not jealous. There's a difference."

There was no difference. But I wasn't going to injure his pride.

"Well, then, I'm sure you've observed that Alec is loyal. Otherwise, you wouldn't have allowed him near me. That's all that matters."

Gently, I reached out to him with my emotions and reopened our connection, trying to reassure him that there was nothing to worry about. I hoped he could feel the love and trust and confidence I was exuding.

I certainly could feel the red-hot jealousy and hesitance he was putting out.

"Fine," Bastien said with resignation. "Bring your wolves and your friends."

I grinned in response. This plan didn't solve all our problems, but we could worry about spellbindings and necklaces after our trip to the Lawless Land.

"But," Bastien continued, guiding us off the bed and toward the washbasin. Gently, he dipped our hands into the cool water, and I closed my eyes as the water began to turn red. "There will be no Dépouillier and no drinking whilst on the road. And you will sleep with me. In my tent."

The rough texture of a washcloth tickled my skin as he scrubbed the stain off.

"I thought sanguine partners always slept with their lords while on the road," I said, trying to distract myself from the pain throbbing in my neck and thoughts of the red water.

"They do," Bastien replied, too close to my ear. His deep voice scraping against my other senses. The ones that never stopped burning for him.

"Then why remind me?" I asked, turning my head so that I could look up at him.

I choked out a strangled sound and felt a fresh trail of sticky, hot blood ooze down my neck.

"You're in pain."

"And you're changing the subject," I said, trying to sound unaffected.

He didn't respond. Instead, Bastien simply collected my thick strands of hair and slowly began braiding them into a long plait. His deft, cool fingers brushing against the base of my neck and over the exposed skin covering my shoulders, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

As he worked, he nudged open our connection, and the quiet of our bond settled over me. His emotions were steady and calm, like a gently flowing river, and it gave me a small measure of peace.

All I wanted to do was float down his river, with my arms stretched wide, the sun on my face, knowing that he would keep me afloat no matter what lay ahead.

I sighed as the tension and frustration sitting in my face melted away. Even the worst of the pain seemed easier to bear.

When he finished the braid, Bastien kissed the side of my neck, just above the place that was throbbing.

"I want you to lay back on the bed so I can tend to this wound. It needs to be cleaned."

The command rang through our shared connection, and I obeyed. Taking his hand, I let him lead me back to the bed. Then he helped ease me onto the mattress, supporting my neck and back.

It felt like easing into his river. Safe and cared for. Loved, even.

His fingers traced the lines of my face, and he studied each one like a feature on a map.

"Bastien," I said, my throat thick with emotion.

When our eyes connected, a wave of intense gratitude and deep affection rolled through me.

I wanted to tell him...what? How much this meant to me? How much he meant to me? How much I cared for him?

That I was starting to understand, bit by bit, what love felt like. What it meant to feel accepted for exactly who I was, even if I didn't like that person very much. Or...perhaps was growing more and more afraid of her.

But, when I tried to speak, the words were lodged in my throat, right behind the knot that was making it difficult to breathe.

"Yes?" he said, cupping my cheek and holding me so tenderly.

"I've gotten used to your face," I managed to say. I didn't know why the ridiculous words came to me, repeating what I'd told him last night in the graveyard.

My cheeks heated in response, and I bit my lip. Feeling so stupid.

But if he thought I was being awkward, Bastien didn't seem to mind. His smile only widened, lighting his whole face with rarely expressed joy.

Stroking my cheek with his thumb, Bastien expelled a breath, then said, "I have grown very fond of your face as well."

okay, who is Claire if she isn't a Proctor Witch?

👀👀

Any guesses?