“Sit,” he said, gesturing to a slab of obsidian.
The court of blood and binding would never be the same. court of blood and bindings vk
“Bind me again,” she said. “But this time, not as your vessel. As your equal.” “Sit,” he said, gesturing to a slab of obsidian
She was a vessel . Bound to his will. She could not lie to him, could not raise a hand against him, could not walk more than a league from the court without her veins turning to ice. “But this time, not as your vessel
He smiled. It was a terrible thing, sharp and sad. “Everything.”
Prince Riven of the House of Bindings sat upon his throne of fused bone and petrified wood, one cheek propped on a gloved fist. His hair was the color of frozen moonlight, his skin so pale it seemed carved from alabaster. When he looked at her, she felt it in her marrow—a tug, like a fishhook caught behind her ribs.