Bound by Darkness (Bound By Series)

11. Empty Promises

Chapter 11

Empty Promises

THALIA

My pack sat empty in the middle of the bed. Besides the few pairs of clothes Gwen had gifted me, I had nothing else of importance.

What I cared about I’d already lost years ago.

Tossing a comb into the pack, I rested my hands on my hips as I surveyed the room. Sadness lingered in my heart even though I’d been here a short time.

It was the first place I’d settled into. The first place I’d been able to relax and enjoy life until Ivan destroyed any hope of freedom with the deal. The deal I’d foolishly made, because of my inability in the physical department.

Stuffing my unruly hair into a high ponytail, I kicked the cracked door open with the heel of my foot as I bounded down the warbled steps.

Gwen’s tonics had done more than heal my wounds. They’d also restored more energy than I knew what to do with. It left a different feeling of hope however cliche that might be.

I took it back as soon as Ivan opened the porch door.

His black hair rested against his head like a dirtied mop as his fingers curled around the water pitcher. Despite the unkempt appearance, my eyes followed the harsh edges of his face.

He poured himself a glass, his eyes refusing to leave mine as he downed the liquid in three gulps.

“Are you trying to be impressive?” I mocked, my eyes trailing the water as it dripped down his chin.

His eyes flashed as he brushed the water away with his thumb, a devious grin curling on his lips. “Did you find it impressive?”

My arms crossed over my chest, my eyes flicking away quickly. “No.”

“Well, that’s good. I’d hate it if you fell for me.” He said as he poured himself another.

I glared at him before sitting on the wooden stool that rocked back and forth slightly on the white tile.

“Can I help you?”

“No thanks,” I said as I folded my hands on the kitchen counter. My leg bounced slightly as I stared at him.

His hands pressed against the counter as he leaned forward. “Normally, I love it when ladies stare at me, but you’re quite impassive.”

“Same for you.”

The pitcher clinked against the hard surface matching the tones of the wind chimes outside. “What are you doing?” he asked.

I looked at my nails. “Oh. I’m waiting to see if you mess up.”

“Mess up?” His silver eyes darted to mine as he raised the cup to his slightly parted lips. “You’ll be here for a long time, half-breed.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Okay. I’ll call you Thalia.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Half-breed it is,” he muttered through the glass before taking a sip.

“No,” I answered again before a sigh left my lips.

Glancing around the empty kitchen, I tapped my foot against the wooden island. “Have you seen Gwen?”

“Nope.”

My brows furrowed. “Really. You haven’t seen your mother?”

“Nope,” he repeated. “Why do you need her anyway?”

“We’re supposed to be making dessert.”

His face remained apathetic, but a hint of mischief shone in his silver eyes. “You’re… making dessert?”

“I’m pleasant toward normal people.”

He set the cup on the counter. “And I’m not?”

“Well, seeing as how you lack a heart… absolutely.”

“Whose lacking a heart?” Gwen said as she walked in from the porch, her apron stocked full of fresh-picked strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries. She dumped them onto the counter, wiping her red-stained hands as she tossed glances between us.

“Thalia mentioned how she’s learning to grow a heart once more. It shrunk during prison life.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Gwen answered, grabbing bowls underneath the bottom cabinets.

Ivan smirked as a dimple appeared on the left cheek.

My lips pulled into a taut line as I stared at him. The cheeky—“Ivan explained how small his heart is and wishes to apologize for the agony he’s been causing me.”

“Mhm,” Gwen answered as she lugged sugar and flour jars onto the counter. “It’s nice to see you both getting along.”

“I figured if we’re going to work together, we might as well act like it,” I answered. The corners of my lips tugged upward as I grabbed the apron Gwen tossed in my direction .

Ivan opened his mouth, but stopped as Gwen pointed her finger to the door. “Out.”

He balked. “I’m your son.”

“Out,” she repeated. “I haven’t had female companionship since raising you.”

“Máthair, really?—”

“ Out .”

Ivan narrowed his gaze, but gave up when Gwen gave the same look back. He grabbed an apple from the bowl sitting at the back of the counter before leaving.

“Boys,” she muttered before handing me a spoon. “We’ve got work to do.”

Smiling, I grabbed the utensil, whorls etched into the wood. “Which is what?”

“Berry tarts. They won’t make themselves.” She dumped flour into the bowl with a glass cup.

“What happened to making apple tarts?”

She pointed to the door. “He ate the last one.”

“But you picked those this morning.”

“He insisted on eating them all. There’s going to be more next season.”

Next season. Where would I be next season?

Gwen smiled softly. “You know, you’re more than welcome to come back. It’s occasionally lonely here, and I could use another hand in the kitchen.”

“Tempting, but I want to explore like my father did.”

“Was he a traveler?”

“He was a merchant,” I corrected. “He traveled frequently. He didn’t stay in one place long since he was a human. It wasn’t safe for him.”

Gwen nodded as she plopped in a yellow stick. “Must have been tough growing up.”

“It was, but it had its perks. He’d come home with new stories and merchandise he’d find from different parts of Cethales.”

“He must have been an amazing man.”

“Yeah.”

“Wounds can still be fresh for a long time,” she said after a long pause. “My late husband used to say destiny clung to the privileged while the rest of us dealt with fate. The older I age, the more I find the nonsense he sprouted true.”

Kneading the dough with my hands, I jerked my chin toward the living room. “Are those his swords out there?”

“Yes. He used to be a fighter.” She smiled, the memory pooling in her eyes. “We met on the battlefield as I tended to him as his nurse. It was love at first sight. We wedded a year later.”

“What happened?” I asked gently, my fingers spreading the dough across the counter.

“He caught an illness and passed away in his sleep.” She cut out shapes from the dough and placed them gently on a parchment-lined tray. “Ivan took it the hardest. Isaiash practically raised him and taught him everything he knew. Those two were inseparable.”

Pressing a few berries into the dough, she wrapped them and set them on the tray. “The last three years have been hard on him since his passing. He’s not the same,” she whispered. “I can tell in his eyes. Call it a mother’s intuition, but light hasn’t touched there or here”—she pointed to her heart—“in a long time. He’s hurting, and I don’t know what to do.”

I helped her cut out shapes while she pressed the sweet berry mixture into the dough. “I’m sorry about your husband. I bet it was tough on both of you.”

“It still is,” she added. “I hate how Ivan goes on these missions. He refuses to tell me what he does or where he goes, but I see the aftermath.”

Her fingers trembled as she rested them against the counter. “Nowadays, he comes home covered in blood. Sometimes, it’s others.” She paused. “But most of the time, it’s his. I know what he is doing is dangerous, and why he won’t tell me, but sometimes… sometimes I wish he would.”

Her fingernails dug into the counter as she gazed out the window. “I want him to stay here with me. Losing him too—” Her eyes glistened as she shook her head. “It’s selfish, but it’s what any mother would do.”

My fingers rested on the dough as I looked at the woman before me. The wrinkles around her eyes crinkled. “It’s what any good mother would do.”

Gwen gave a tentative smile before she popped the tray into the makeshift oven, the wood burning below. “They should be done soon. Thank you.”

I nodded as I swung my legs from the stool. I landed with a soft thud.

“Oh, and Thalia?”

“Yes?”

“Go freshen up. You have flour sticking to your face.”

Wiping my cheek, I couldn’t hide the blush from my face. “Thanks.”

Gwen laughed. “Anytime.”

A nice, hot bath called my name at the flour sticking between the folds of my fingers.

Slinging the pack over my shoulder, I glanced at the room one last time. My eyes drifted over the neatly made bed and fresh linens I had folded against the edge of the footboard. Nothing sat out of place except for me as I lingered by the door frame.

I should have been lounging in bed, fast asleep, until golden light streamed into the bedroom and coated the room in its warmth. Instead, I stood awake before first light had risen. It was an atrocity.

With a groan, I adjusted the strap over my shoulder as my thumb traced the stitching Gwen had etched into it.

Spells to keep you safe, she had told me.

I had no clue what they did, but I wouldn’t question such a kind gesture. Mainly someone’s company I had grown fond of these past few days.

My footsteps were heavy as I slowly walked down the stairs. We were headed to Laias, and I had no clue what to expect. Ivan refused to state details no matter how much I prodded and probed.

The final step creaked as I entered the living room. I adjusted the pack as a tug on my shoulder disrupted my gaze at the hearth.

“Daylight’s almost here,” Ivan said. “We need to leave.”

Turning around, my gaze roamed over his clothing. The fighting leathers were different than when I’d first met him. The leather covered his collarbone down to his wrists. It wrapped around his chest, the fabric snug against him.

Along the sleeves, golden swirls twisted and intertwined their way down his arms. The pattern created exquisite, unique shapes that complemented his tanned skin. Even the swirls in his eyes matched the patterns etched into his sleeves.

Glancing at my buttoned-up blue shirt and black pants, I realized I was severely underdressed, and utterly aware of how much this outfit did not suit me as I shifted my eyes to the door.

He cocked his head to the side, but Gwen’s footsteps drew his attention away as his lips pressed together.

“Food rations.” Her hands and arms shook from the weight of the pack. “I also packed the remaining berry tarts,” she said with a wink in my direction.

Ivan grabbed the satchel, hauling it over his head before tugging Gwen in for a hug.

I glanced away. The sight too intimate… too private for me to intrude upon. A hug between a boy and his mother was not something I had the right to witness.

Ivan whispered something to Gwen, her eyes growing wide before returning to their natural state.

“Thalia?” Gwen said softly.

“Yeah? What’s the?—”

Gwen hugged me tight.

I wrapped my arms around her and took in the familiar scent of coffee and apples. My head buried in her neck as I embraced her. I didn’t want to step away. I didn’t want this to end, but she moved away first.

Gwen’s eyes shone bright as she set a sturdy hand against mine. “You be safe, alright?”

I nodded.

“I know you’ve only been here briefly, but you’re welcome here. You have a home no matter where your travels take you or what the fates have in store for you.”

My lips wobbled as I dipped my head low in a curt nod.

“Plus, I need someone to keep an eye on him.” She jerked her thumb toward Ivan, who rolled his eyes as he leaned against the door frame.

A small smile crossed my face as I wiped my cheeks quickly, hoping the kohl I’d applied this morning hadn’t smeared in streaks of black.

Ivan shifted, his gaze lingering on the rising faelight as it ascended above the tree line—the cue to depart.

Steadying myself, I ran my hands over the etched spells one last time. One mission with him, and then we’d rescue Moria. My help for his .

Pausing, my head swiveled back to Gwen. Her eyes glistened like the early morning dew as the faelight shone upon her.

I brought my hands to my face, cupping them around my lips. “Thank you, Gwen!”

Her smile shone brighter than the faelight shining on her as she waved back, her mouth parting as she yelled, “Thalia Carr, do not let the darkness shroud your heart. We will meet again!”

Darkness had already shrouded my heart once. If it happened again, I wasn’t sure there would be anything to stop it from taking it altogether.