Soulbound (12 page)

What I saw in his expression was nothing short of a nightmare—confirmation that the worst of this experience wasn’t over.

The smoke from the incense was drying my throat. It smelled sweet, but tasted rancid, and felt as if it were burning my lungs away. I held back my urge to cough, but it wasn’t easy. Blood gushed from Trayton’s open wound, dripping onto the floor. To my astonishment, the man cut Trayton again, this time across his thigh. Trayton—despite his tough-guy Barron training—howled in pain as the blade cut deeply into his leg. His face blanched and I gasped, glaring at the ceremony master, ready to snatch the dagger from his cruel hands. But before I could, he returned the weapon to its spot on the altar. Trayton’s blood stained the white cloth.

The man turned back to me, silent now, and moved my right hand to the cut on Trayton’s arm and my left to the one on his thigh. Then he started chanting again, this time loudly and more meaningful than ever before. Worried tears welled in my eyes, and all I could do was whisper to Trayton that it would be okay, somehow it would be okay.

My palms grew warm and a strange tingling crawled up my arms—as if tiny bolts of lightning were making their way slowly through my veins. Despite the sound of chanting and the noise of my coughing, which
I could no longer hold back, I noticed something had changed. That steady drip, drip, drip of Trayton’s blood on the dark wood floor had ceased. Something else, too. The blood on my palms had grown sticky, no longer fresh. Marveling, I looked down at Trayton’s wounds, and they were gone. Completely healed. As if he’d never been injured at all.

Pulling my hands back with a gasp, I looked from Trayton’s drying blood to Trayton himself, who weakly smiled up at me, something like relief flitting across his expression.

We’d done it. We’d been Bound. I’d healed Trayton with only a touch of my hand.

My fingers trembled slightly. Even though I knew that I was a Healer, even though I’d heard my entire life that I was capable of this act, I was filled with shock. I’d healed him. Just by pressing my hands to his wounds.

The ceremony master remained all business as he gathered his tools. “You can wash the blood away in the basin near the door. There are clean rags there as well.”

I helped Trayton with the leather straps and washed my hands in the basin of warm water before emptying the basin out the front door—pausing a moment to breathe in some fresh air—and refilling it with the pitcher from atop the table. After dunking one of the rags into the clean water, I moved back to Trayton, who was sitting up and marveling at his lack of injuries. I handed him the moist cloth and watched as he wiped as much
of the blood away as he could. His clothes were stained, and the holes in the fabric were gaping. His uniform was ruined, but that seemed to be of little consequence. Trayton stood and turned to the man who’d caused him such horrendous pain with hardly an introduction. “Thank you, Elder Barron.”

The man nodded and turned back to his cleaning duties.

With a smile, Trayton gestured toward the door and I led the way, relieved that he was all right, but still very shaken about the bizarre ritual.

As we stepped outside, Trayton’s hand found mine and squeezed. A peculiar warmth spread through my hand and up my arm—a wonderful tingling sensation. I glanced at Trayton—at my Barron—and couldn’t help but grin. Trayton was blushing and grinning too. I squeezed his hand back, a surge of excited hope filling my soul. A connection was there—a real, strong, certain connection, like nothing we’d ever shared before.

For the first time since setting foot on academy grounds, I found myself ready and anxious for what the future might bring.

I’d expected Maddox to be waiting for us when we got outside, but she was nowhere to be found. She’d been replaced, momentarily, by a quiet, standoffish guard whose name I didn’t have a chance to catch before Trayton pulled me in the direction of the rose gardens. After a while, we passed the gardens and then we
walked east along the perimeter wall. For the first hundred yards, neither of us spoke a word. Our nameless shadow hung back, always present, but not invading our moment semi-alone together. After all, we weren’t allowed to be alone together for the first year of our bond. By the time we reached the rose gardens, I’d grown used to the feel of Trayton’s hand in mine. It felt right. Like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly against one another.

The scent of roses reached my nose and I watched the flowers as we walked in comfortable silence, keeping my eyes away from the enormous stone wall. The wall was a heavy, unbearable symbol. It meant to protect us from all that lurked outside of it, but all I could think was that it was keeping me inside, away from my parents, away from the life I had known and loved. The wall was oppressive and symbolized everything that the headmaster stood for. It was here to control me, here to keep me in my place. I hated it with every fiber of my being.

Trayton’s steps slowed as we reached the midpoint of the rose garden. “The roses look especially lovely, don’t you think? Mr. Gareth must be working overtime.”

I didn’t say what I was thinking—that Mr. Gareth wasn’t the only one hard at work on the roses; that I and who knows how many other delinquents had been busy grooming the blooms to the magnificence they were now, all because we’d stepped out of line in this way or that. Instead, I made a sound that sounded vaguely like
“mm-hmm” and tried like hell to ignore the wall, even though it was barely three feet to my right.

Trayton stopped short. “You’re awfully quiet. Is everything okay?”

I shook my head, wanting to put him at ease. It wasn’t his fault I was distracted. It was the headmaster’s. And the wall’s. “Everything’s fine. I just—”

A sound thundered through the wall and my entire body jolted. I’d know that high-pitched shriek anywhere, but recognized it mostly from my nightmares. Accompanying its sound was a flash of enormous teeth in my twisted imagination.

Trayton squeezed my hand, drawing my attention for the moment. “Hey. It’s okay. They can’t get through the wall. As long as you’re inside, you’re safe. And when you aren’t, I’ll protect you.”

His words should have been comforting to me, but while they might have been well intended, they sounded too similar to what the headmaster had said—I wasn’t allowed to learn how to defend myself. I was expected to behave like a damsel in distress and just wait for my Barron savior to protect me. My cheeks flushed warm as I pulled my hand away from Trayton’s, but my palm cooled instantly, as did my demeanor. “I can protect myself.”

Doubt filled Trayton’s eyes, but to his credit, he didn’t give voice to it. He turned to the wall and gazed up at it for a moment before looking back at me. “Their cries
are unnerving, but you shouldn’t let it worry you. There are worse things in the world.”

Worse than Graplars? I somehow doubted that.

To my left came the sound of feet moving over grass, and I turned my head to see Instructor Baak leaving one of the rows of rosebushes, a straw basket, piled high with red and pink blooms, looped over her arm. She nodded a hello to Trayton, but didn’t even look my way. A small part of me was grateful. Better to be invisible than the object of her disgust. After she’d gone, I shook my head, hoping to ease the strange tension that was now between Trayton and me. “That woman hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s just been through some rough times.” Trayton plucked a leaf from one of the many vines that had grown over the wall and tossed it carelessly on the ground as he turned and continued his—once our—trek along the perimeter. After a heartbeat, I followed, knowing that I’d ruined our moment, even if I had done so for a very good reason. Something told me that while Trayton was sweet, he was also used to things going exactly as he planned. I kept my thoughts to myself for the moment and quickened my pace so that we were once again walking side by side, though our hands didn’t touch.

As if I’d voiced my curiosity, he said, “Instructor Baak lost her daughter at the second battle of Wood’s Cross. It must have been pretty brutal, as there was an inquiry and shortly after, the records of the event were sealed.
That’s when she came to Shadow Academy to teach. They say she couldn’t face the battlefield after that. Her heart just wasn’t in it. So you shouldn’t be too quick to judge someone.”

Stinging from his obvious snap, I slowed my steps and bit back the words that were building up in my mind. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head back to the dorms and get a head start on this paper that Mr. Ross assigned.”

Trayton hung his head, sighing. When he met my eyes, he looked remorseful. “I’m sorry, Kaya. I just wanted today to be perfect and I’m fakking it up fabulously. Can you forgive me?”

He hadn’t done anything that awful, so I nodded and smiled. “Of course I do. But I do have that paper to finish.”

“I’ll walk you back and you can get started. Then maybe later you’d go to a party with me?” He smiled sheepishly and once again, I found myself entangled in his charm. It was a wonder that any girl could resist him.

Smiling, I said, “Sounds fun.”

“Great.” He clapped his hands together once in satisfaction. “I’ll pick you up at eight and we’ll head over to Melanie’s.”

My heart all but stopped before it sank into my stomach. “Melanie’s?”

“It’s her party.” He shrugged casually, obviously
blissfully unaware that Melanie and I weren’t exactly the best of friends.

Breathing out a sigh, I took another step forward, trying desperately to ignore what my evening would be like. “Wonderful.”

I was sure it would be anything but.

L
et’s just get this over with.”

Maddox wasn’t exactly what I’d refer to as excited about the prospect of attending a party hosted by Melanie—neither was I—but Trayton had asked me to go, and she could’ve been at least a little more supportive. The last thing in the world I wanted was to hang out in Melanie’s dorm room with a bunch of people I didn’t know, especially if Maddox was going to be complaining about it all night.

She opened the door to the hall, where Trayton was waiting. He was still wearing his school uniform, as was expected by the headmaster’s rules, but something about the way the light hit him made it seem different, more casual. It took me a moment to speak. “You look nice.”

Immediately after the words had left my lips, I wanted to reach out and snatch them from the air between us. Nice? I sounded like his grandmother, rather than the
girl he was Bound to. I should have said something impressive like “debonair.” But no. “Nice” was all I had.

The corners of his mouth lifted into a pleased smile, his cheeks blushing somewhat. “Thank you. You look lovely.”

Maddox snorted. Not because she didn’t like the way I looked or anything. But because it had taken me exactly three hours and twenty-three minutes to stop complaining about my school uniform. Not that there was anything wrong with the white wrap top and roomy white leggings. But I would have given anything for some color options. Back home, I’d helped my mother dye bolts of fabric with various flowers. The smell filled the cabin and had forced my father outside on more than one occasion, but the vibrant colors that were a result of our efforts were stunning. I missed wearing my own clothes already. I missed wearing pretty colors. They reminded me of freedom and joy, rather than rules and institution.

Maddox said that she didn’t understand girls, even if she was one.

She also didn’t understand why we had to go to Melanie’s party, but that much I did understand. If I had said no, it wouldn’t have been fair to Trayton, who obviously felt obligated to go. And there was no way I was leaving him alone with Melanie. Not that I didn’t trust him. I just didn’t trust her. Not any farther than I could
throw her—which probably wouldn’t be very far at all.

Melanie’s room was down our hallway, up two flights, and then a long walk to the midpoint of the building. And every step I took closer to it sent my nerves jumping up another notch. Trayton must have noticed, because he reached over when we were only ten steps from her door and gave my hand a comforting squeeze. I smiled at him, or tried, anyway, and turned my attention back to Maddox, who was asking me with her eyes if I was sure about this and if I was ready to face the in-crowd. My answer was no, but I nodded in spite of myself.

Maddox raised her fist and knocked on the door. It seemed a simple enough gesture, something she’d done a dozen times since I’d been at Shadow Academy, but the fact that it was Melanie’s door changed the sound of it, somehow. Her knock echoed into the hallway. Heavy. Ominous.

I swear, if Trayton hadn’t been holding my hand, I’d have turned and bolted.

But before I could plan my masterful escape, which likely would have involved some arm flailing and girlish screams, the door opened to Melanie’s parlor, revealing a tall, thin, statuesque girl with flaxen curls and stunning green eyes. She looked less than impressed as her eyes moved over Maddox and myself, but when her gaze fell on Trayton, she brightened considerably. “Trayton! Mel said you’d be coming. Mel! Your guest has arrived!”

From across the relatively crowded room, Melanie sashayed, her curves commanding the attention of every male present.

Well. Thankfully not
every
male.

Trayton smiled reassuringly at me. As Melanie approached the door, Trayton gently coaxed me inside. Melanie was all smiles. She hugged Trayton, planting a light kiss on his cheek. “I’m so glad you came. Can I get you something to drink? Carly smuggled in some artesian wine. It’s fabulous.”

There was a distinct moment when Melanie noticed me. It was the exact same moment that she noticed my hand was holding Trayton’s. Choking back what looked like an equal mixture of disgust and disdain, she said, “Your…friends…can have some too, of course.”

A smile settled on Trayton’s lips then. It was definitely proud, and almost smug. “You remember Kaya, Melanie.”

“Of course.” She grimaced, forcing an unreal smile. “The Healer you’re going to be Bound to.”

“As a matter of fact, we’re here on a mission of celebration.” Trayton gave my hand another squeeze. “You see, Kaya and I were Bound this morning.”