“It takes practice. And patience—and a whole lot of energy you simply don’t have right now, but I promise to give you a lesson first thing in the morning.”
He’s right. I haven’t been out of bed more than a couple of hours, and I’m already exhausted and looking forward to climbing beneath the blankets again. But with sleep comes dreams, and in dreams I risk opening myself up to Finn or Sebastian.
“Tomorrow,” Misha says. “After you’ve slept and had a chance to digest what we’ve discussed today, we can practice blocking, but only with the caveat that most bonded pairs can feel each other’s presence more powerfully the closer they are. Even after years of training, you might not be able to spy on your bonded partner undetected.”
I nod. “Okay.” Even if I can never spy on Sebastian, I want to learn whatever Misha can teach me.
Feeling Sebastian right there all the time is making me weak. If he walked in the door right now, I’m not sure I’d be able to prevent myself from diving into his arms.
“As for tonight,” Misha says, “would you like a proper tour of my palace?”
I would. I’ve never seen any place as breathtaking as the parts of Castle Craige I’ve seen so far.
Yet that’s not how I want to spend my evening. “Could I go with Amira? To . . . the camps?” I bite my lip. I want assurance that Misha is a good male, but do I want to know that for myself or for the sake of the vulnerable?
“Oh. I’m not sure.” Misha says. He’s silent for a long time, his gaze distant, and I wonder if he’s trying to get me to backpedal and say I don’t need to go.
“If you’re trying to hide something—”
Suddenly he nods and smiles at me. “Amira’s still in the stables. She said she’ll wait, and we can all ride together.”
I frown and look around. “You just . . . talked to her?”
His smile stretches wider. “Indeed.” He taps his temple, as if that explains everything, then says, “Can you ride in that or would you like to change?”
I look down to the leather pants and boots I put on earlier. “This will do.”
“Good.” He nods, already turning and heading for the stairs. “Amira says to grab a cloak. It will be dark by the time we return, and it gets chilly when the sun sets.”
I spot a black cloak hanging by the door and grab it before jogging after him. He has such long legs that he’s already at the top of the stairs by the time I reach him. “Will I be able to do that with Sebastian?”
I’m not sure how I’d feel about that. On the one hand, it’s all I can do to ignore the constant hum of his emotions pecking at my consciousness. On the other hand, it would be pretty amazing to be able to have a conversation with anyone when they’re not even under the same roof.
Misha shakes his head. “I’m not privy to the details of the golden prince’s powers, nor do I truly know the extent of yours, but as far as I’m aware, you two can’t speak telepathically.”
“So how the bond works is dependent on one’s powers?”
At the bottom of the stairs, he turns left, leading me out of the palace and onto another staircase.
There are stairs all around us, I realize, all built into the face of the mountain. It’s as if Castle Craige is built on the highest point in this area of the Wild Fae Lands, and to get to anything beyond it, once must descend.
Misha looks at me and cocks his head to the side. This isn’t a product of any bond, he says in my mind, as clear as if he were saying the words aloud. This is my gift. As is picking up your response.
“Oh. That’s . . .” Creepy is the first word that comes to mind, but I’m too polite to say it.
Misha chuckles, hearing the word anyway. “I’m curious, though,” he says. “Yesterday it seemed like you wanted to cut off the emotional awareness between you and Sebastian, and now you’re asking how you can make it more . . . precise—how you can have a conversation through it.”
I shrug. “Can’t blame me for my curiosity.”
“But which is it? Do you want to shut him out or be able to communicate freely with him?”
My instinct is to declare that I absolutely want to shut him out—to never know his thoughts or emotions again, to never see him or think of his face again. But I realize that’s the heartbreak speaking. “I think both,” I say thoughtfully. “I want to be able to shut him out at will, but I’ll admit I’m intrigued by the possibility of communicating with someone without speaking. For me it’s about having the choice. I want to be the one in control of my own mind and feelings.”