A kyanite stone for me. A kyanite stone to cool my fire and kindle my magic. I received my necklace on my twelfth birthday. It was the same day the Kyanite healers accepted me into their apothecary.

Now, the stone sits cold against my skin. Ice against the flame.

Time and time again, it has failed me. When I needed it to calm my nerves, they only twisted into knots inside me. When I needed it to magnify my magic, it sat idle.

It’s part of who I am, though. Sol, born of the Kyanite tribe.

For now, the flames must disappear. Only ashes can remain on my heart. Otherwise, Gabriel will see through me.

Over the last two days, while I waited for our binding ceremony, I have observed Gabriel more. He obviously has the respect of the other warriors. He doesn’t get sloshed like many do, and he seems to consider his words before speaking. I must never take his quiet strength for granted.

Kassandra hums as she combs through my black hair in her tent. She can be a loyal friend. After all, my quarrel isn’t with her.

She stops humming and speaks in a soft voice. “I never dreamed Gabriel would ever marry. Not after…” Her mouth tightens like she’s stopping herself from saying too much.

“After?”

She shakes her head. I decide to change the subject, knowing it’s better not to press her.

“Shall I please Gabriel?” I stand, smooth my borrowed surcoat, and meet Kassandra’s gaze.

“Oh, yes. You shall please him. I know you shall.”

My fingers lift to my cheek, to the stitches sewn into my flesh. Kassandra watches me for a breath or two before speaking.

“He will not care about a scar. He has plenty of his own.” She tilts her head to the side. “Does it hurt?”

“My cheek?” I lace my fingers together.

“Yes. Does it bother you?”

“Only when I forget about it and accidentally scratch it.”

She beams a bright smile. “Gabriel did a fantastic job stitching you.”

I wouldn’t know. I cannot see his handy work.

“Here.” She moves to her bag and pulls free a small looking glass. “Look.”

I have no time to protest before she thrusts the thing in my face. Wild, haunted eyes stare back at me, eyes that look a lot like Luc’s. Mother’s death made them that way.

I blink, but the haunted look doesn’t fade. It is a part of me.

My fingers lift to my cheek again, to the stitches Gabriel left behind. He did a masterful job. One might think he has had plenty of experience mending someone’s broken skin.

“Your skin is so pale,” Kassandra says as she gazes at me. “It makes your hair seem blacker and your eyes brighter.”

“I’ve always hated my brown eyes,” I admit. “As a child, I wanted them to be blue.”

“You’re beautiful, Sol. You do not need blue eyes.” She takes the looking glass and stares into it. “I, on the other hand, need them so I don’t look so plain.”

A laugh escapes me. “You are far from plain.”

She places the looking glass back into her bag.

“Will you tell me about Gabriel?” If I’m going to succeed, I’ll need to understand him. He could be the difference between me moving freely among the Bloodstone people or being hidden away.

“He’s kind, fierce, loyal, and stubborn.” Admiration lingers in her words as she continues. “He’s a great warrior. One of the best.”

I reach for that useless kyanite stone through the fabric of my surcoat and squeeze it between my fingers. “Has he ever been married?”

“No.”

“Does he…” I thread pensiveness into my tone. After all, this is a question a fiancée would want to know about her intended. “Does he have a lot of women?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Women are always interested in Gabriel.”

Dig deeper, Sol.

“Are Bloodstone warriors faithful?”

Say no.

I would prefer Gabriel shared another woman’s bed—any other woman’s bed—but mine. But I can handle a handful of times. In truth, I can endure many things to carry out my destiny.

“Most Bloodstone men are faithful. But there are always those who cannot commit to only one woman.” The hem of her surcoat twirls around her legs as she pivots and smiles. “Gabriel isn’t like those men.”

“Oh, that makes me happy.”

Liar!

“Gabriel is fiercely loyal.” Esteem shines in her eyes as she continues praising him. “You should have seen the way he was with his family. He was steadfast until there was nothing left to serve.”

A sudden thought strikes me, so I say it out loud. “Is he the one you love? If he is, I can call off the binding ceremony.”

Another laugh spills from her lips as she shakes her head. “No, not Gabriel. Luc is the man I care for.”

“You’re in love with Luc?”

I have observed Luc more too. When he’s around his men, he’s friendly and a natural leader. When he’s sitting alone, he’s quiet, morose, and he doesn’t smile.

“Yes.” She adds in a much softer voice, “But I shall never have him.”

“Why not?”

The lines near her mouth deepen as she grimaces and stares down at her hands. “I am an outsider.”

“Outsider?” My brow lifts as I consider the meaning behind her word. “Is that why you don’t have a serpent coat of arms?”

Her hands go to the red circle in the center of her surcoat. “Yes.”

What makes you an outsider? What does it mean?

The questions prod at my thoughts. I cannot ask them until I get to know her better.

Lines of tension deepen across her brow as she speaks. “You should know that once you agree to marry a Bloodstone man, you don’t break the agreement. It’s seen as an offense.”

Before I came here, I vowed to do whatever it took to give Mother peace in the afterlife. I never prepared myself for marriage, but I will not cower from it or shiver at the thought of being a Bloodstone warrior’s wife.

“I have a lot to learn about your customs,” I say after a moment.

“I shall help you.”

“I would like that.” It’s not a lie. I could use her help.

Kassandra’s long brown hair sways against her hips as she turns back to the window. “It’s time.”

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