Sela shook the warrior off. At least, she tried to. He did not seem to like for her to resist him, even when he was always between her and where she wanted to go.

She could not think about what right he thought he had to interfere with her will. Not when she watched Karav – her only friend – reach the top of the hill. Once he stepped over, he was gone forever. She started forward, unwilling to let him go. Tieran held her back. He was wired yet calm in action, his grip tight without being painful.

She yanked. He did not give.

Karav crested the hill and started down the other side, his body disappearing over the rise.

She panicked. “Karav!”

Fighting Tieran was like fighting a rock. Before she could strike at him, he had her wrists, wrapped her arms around her, and held her tight against his muscular body. She could not move, could not follow. Trapped against Tieran’s wide chest, with his thick arms wrapped around her, she could only watch Karav disappear. Straining one last time, she swallowed hard, trapped against the savage Karav left her with.

“Let me go,” she ordered him in a hushed voice.

Tieran neither moved nor spoke. She stared at the hill. Karav did not return, no matter how hard she willed him to. It felt as if days passed while she stood on the road, waiting. He had warned her long ago he would not be with her forever, but she never really believed he would leave her. They were supposed to die in battle together.

A faint tickle of water magic passed to her from Tieran, a sensation she had never felt from Karav. It was gone too fast for her to be certain she felt it. It reminded her of the faint magic that came from the north, but it was less possible for the Inlander savage to possess a piece of the ocean in him than it was for there to be an ocean in the middle of the savannah!

Despair crept through her. The sun rose above the horizon, warming the air.

Sela sighed, helpless. Only when the tension left her body, and she yielded to Tieran’s grip, did he move. He pulled her wrists over her head and draped rope over them in one deft move.

She resisted. “Where would I go?” she tried to sound fierce, but her voice trembled.

He whirled her to face him, handling her like he might his boots - with enough care not to damage them but otherwise unconcerned where they landed on his floor. Ignoring her, he wrapped and tied her hands.

Sela looked up at him, afraid of the large warrior, but not wanting him to know how much. He was always far too close to her for her comfort and usually, with his hand around her neck or arm. Karav would calmly tell her he was using his body to intimidate and control her.

It worked too well. Accustomed to the reverent space granted her by Karav and every other man she had ever met, Sela was confused by Tieran’s touch and by a culture where personal space seemed to hold no value at all. Tieran and his uncle and cousin stood close enough to touch when talking, if they were not outright resting a hand one another. For a people known to slaughter outsiders, they were more affectionate towards each another than any other people she had met on her travels.

She studied her new guardian. His eyes were the warm hue of ale, his dark hair tied tightly against the back of his neck. Though his nose was crooked from fighting, his features were heavy and chiseled, and his brow low enough that his every look promised danger. His skin was tanned from the sun. He was not much older than she was. He had no creases in his forehead or around his eyes. His movements were disciplined and steady. He gave no sign he was as troubled by their new circumstances as she was.

There was wildness in him she sensed in every Inlander whose path she had crossed.

“You do not run. You do not open your mouth. You do not go anywhere unless I give you permission,” Tieran said in a calm voice as he worked on binding her. “You do not leave the hold without your hood up and your cloak on. You do not look at others. You –”

“What do you mean, I cannot even look at others?” she snapped, yanking at her hands.

He pulled them close again. “You are not from here. You do not yet understand that when a servant woman looks at a man, she is showing interest.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

He met her gaze, an eyebrow raised. “Nothing, if you intend to go with him to his bed.”

“Just for looking at a man?” she asked, horrified. “What kind of barbaric –”

“It is our way,” he said. “It is now your way.”

“I am not a servant!”

“You are not an Inlander and will not be accepted as an Inlander woman’s equal.”

Sela preferred not to have his intense attention on her. His eyes were the same color as those of the great cats the priests kept, the same great cats that occasionally escaped the king’s menagerie and mauled everyone in their paths. She saw this warrior in much the same light, though instead of the priests caging him, he caged himself. Which meant he freed himself at will. He was dangerous in a way Karav had never been.

She frowned up at Tieran. “I cannot even look at you?”

“You are welcome to, and I will welcome you to my bed,” Tieran said with a cold smile. His movement stilled, and he held her gaze, waiting.

Sela had the urge to run again. Too aware of his size and complete lack of regard for her status as a privileged mage of her kingdom, the niece of a king, she looked down. Karav would tell her this was not a battle she was going to win.

But she was smart enough to outwit this Inland brute. Raised in a household where the activities of everyone, even her prince of a father, revolved around the sacred water mage, she had learned to manipulate and deceive young. Karav corrected many of her vices once she was officially under his care, but she still remembered how to use those around her to obtain what she wanted. A man like Tieran would only lower his guard if he no longer felt she was a threat.

Holding her tongue while she plotted to escape would be her greatest challenge. This world was foreign to her, and Karav’s slipping ability to stabilize her magic left her emotions more volatile than usual.

Sela watched Tieran knot the rope, deep in thought as she plotted against the Inland savage. He pulled up her hood then took the short length of rope he had tied to her bonds.

Had she ever felt this lost and alone?

She glanced back at the hill, praying Karav returned. Tieran was nothing like Karav. She and Karav shared everything. Her whole life, since she was eight, she had never slept a night without curling up at his side.

Her gaze returned to the warrior leading her back to the hold filled with savages. He forbade her from even looking at him! He would not share his food or his life with her. They would not be partners and friends as she and Karav had been.

She rubbed the faded scar running along the meat of her right hand. It was the mark of a mage that had been bonded. Every mage bore one, and Karav had been gentle with her when explaining why she had to do it. At eight seasons old, she had not at all understood why someone wanted to cut her, but Karav was the kind of man who sat with her for three days, waiting for her to grant him permission.

Tieran … she cocked her head to the side. She felt him resisting her, just as she felt the trickle of water magic inside him she had never sensed in anyone else.

Karav said no warrior could resist his mage, but this man was trying. He did not want her any more than she wanted him. Perhaps, if she convinced him to wait long enough for her to create a plan of escape, she could be free of him. He would not follow her, since he did not wish to be bound to her. Then she could flee north, across the Ruby Channel, and return to her home, where she would be protected and coddled by her beloved father once more.

They reached the drawbridge, and she dug in her heels, eyes instinctively drawn to the two wells outside the walls. A small river running far beneath the wells called to her faintly.

“Water,” she said when Tieran pulled her forward. “It calms me. Take me to the wells.”

Tieran ignored her. She gritted her teeth as the wells disappeared behind the walls of the hold. She asked the river below where it went, if it angled up at any point into a stream or lake or larger river. Its answer was too muted. She needed to be closer to hear.

She hated the idea of begging an Inlander brute for anything. But she only needed to beg until she had escaped and was free.

“Will you take me to the wells?” she asked in a voice she hoped was respectful enough.

“Tomorrow.”

Pleased he responded, she would figure out how to manipulate him by the time the day was over. She was good at that with everyone but Karav, who knew better.

As they walked through the hold, she began to consider an idea that had never been possible before Karav’s departure.

What if she chose not to have any mage-warrior at all? What if she were truly … free? Karav had access to her mind, but what if she decided she wanted her mind to be solely hers? Would her father and uncle respect her decision, once she was home? It was not customary, but surely they would not want this savage as her warrior anyway.

She trusted her former guardian, and still, there were days where she was frustrated by his ability to predict and read her. What would a man with no honor do, if he had access to her thoughts?

He would use her magic for his own purposes, or worse, enslave her and sell off magical favors.

Before this day, it had never occurred to Sela that she could be her own person. Not the revered mage treated as a king’s personal trophy. Not the woman whose mind and life were shared with her mandatory protector.

How would freedom feel? Could she control the wild magic within her well enough? She had never tried. Maybe, if she proved to her father and uncle she was capable of handling herself, they would respect her decision.

But would the priests?

No, she thought. Their beliefs revolved around preserving and training mages and their warriors. Her father would bend his will to anything she asked. Could he protect her from the priests? Dared she ask him to?

“Go to your corner,” Tieran ordered as he opened the door to his chamber.

She obeyed and sat, deep in thought about her chances of becoming free from every warrior. Food sat on the table near the hearth. He tossed his cloak before seating himself to eat. Sela left her hood up, so she could observe him without him knowing.

A wave of magic pierced her to the core and freed the wildness in her blood a little more. She shuddered, eyes on her scar. It faded, almost to the point of disappearing. The magic was coming loose within her, a sign of how weak her bond with Karav had grown the past few sennights. That connection, however intimate and unwanted, kept her stable. The waves came more frequently now, pulling her from him, making her magic harder to control.

Doubt entered her thoughts as she struggled with the magic. If this were the worst she felt, she could tolerate the internal war in exchange for her freedom. But if it became too much stronger …

I must learn to control it, she told herself firmly.

At the table, Tieran grew tenser and rose, pacing. The magic was affecting him, too. It was inside him, fighting him to reach her.

He pulled something from a saddlebag then placed it on the table and stepped back. She recognized the tiny dirk glowing with magic. Her heart quickened. She could not let him bind them or she would never be free of the savage.

“The full moon is in four days,” she said.

Tieran said nothing.

“The moon controls the tides. It is the most powerful night for a water mage, and the night you must cut me here,” she held out her hand and drew a line along the scar that was almost gone.

Her ploy worked. Tieran’s gaze was on her hand.

“Karav waited a fortnight. Although,” she added thoughtfully, “if you are not strong enough to wait four days, you can bind me to you now.”

“You think me weak?” he challenged.

“I don’t know you,” she replied honestly. Sensing she had hit a nerve, she continued as innocently as possible. “You did leave the battle early. You may not be the warrior Karav was.”

Tieran’s gaze lingered on the dirk before he replaced it in his saddlebags. His face was flushed as if with fever.

“Stay here,” he ordered her and strode out.

Sela smiled as the door closed behind him. She waited until certain he was not returning right away and crept forward. She searched his bags for the dirk, intent on taking it with her. Perhaps, if she went far enough away with the magic tool meant to bind them, he would not feel the need to chase her. It would solve both of their problems. He would be free of the curse, and she would be free of the Inlander brute.

Sela returned to her corner. Alone, the sorrow began to creep upon her. She drew her knees to her chest and tucked her bound hands between her legs and body. Tears bubbled. She released them without a fight but did her best not to sob, unwilling to draw the attention of anyone passing through the hallway.

She stayed in her corner, hiding within the safety of her cloak and hood, lost in her memories of Karav. A servant brought her food, but she pushed it away, not at all hungry. There were too many uncertainties about her fate, too much emotion. Once she escaped, how did she travel back to the Seat of Vurdu?

Or… did she return to her kingdom at all, if the priests would force her to take on a new warrior? Her instincts whispered her father, if not her uncle, too, would insist on assigning her a new warrior for her safety.

If she did not return home and could travel where she pleased, where else would she go? To the legendary Draco, said to be ruled by dragons? Or to visit the Moon King in the land called Moonbury, whose warriors were renowned for their swords and bravery?

She could travel around for a while, she decided, perhaps even west, to the unknown continent whose shores had been glimpsed by tradesmen but never explored.

Her blood magic was responding too eagerly to the wells outside the walls. Once she learned to control it, she could cross any sea or channel, maybe even the ocean itself. Until then … would she be trapped in the Inlands?

Before leaving the Seat of Vurdu fourteen moons ago, the priests had been preparing her for a journey of a different kind to the coastal cities. There were rumors of war, and the priests were going to use her magic to protect the ports.

That was her assumption. They never really said what they wanted her to do. The idea of visiting the ocean, of the amount of pure power within its depths, caused her to shiver. The magic within her roared to be connected to such a source – when she was ready.

But if she did not escape Tieran before he bound her … she looked around. The Inlands were an independent, lawless place, left alone by every king, a restless expanse filled with warring tribes loosely aligned under a central tribal council that seemed to have little effect on the violence the Inlands were known for. The council acted in place of a noble ruler. The Inlands were surrounded by the kingdoms of Biu and Iliu – and completely landlocked.

Having traveled through two other kingdoms and her own before arriving here, Sela did not know what great purpose she served in this place. They had no ports for her to defend, no seas she could speak to. They did not even suffer from water shortages like the people of the desert. They possessed enough water to survive but not enough to be of strategic interest or to offer any advantage if war reached the people here.

She was of no use to these people!

Why was her new mage-warrior from a land where water held no value? It was a mistake, and all the more reason to leave him. Soon, before the magic in his blood demanded to be sated.

Sela sighed, mind bouncing between images of Karav walking away from her for the final time and a plan to escape. She stopped asking herself where she would go. Hopefully, after she escaped, this answer would appear.

The day stretched on. The sunlight crossed the floor, and shadows changed direction. Tieran did not return until the light began to fade.

When he finally entered his chambers, he did not look at her, though she was certain his instincts were as sharp as Karav’s. Karav did not need to see to know what was in his surroundings. Tieran was sweating and his clothing bloodied, as if he had been at battle, and she frowned to think he had fought without her. Karav always kept her near, and if there were a war going on outside the walls, should she not know, so she could be prepared to flee or fight?

Tieran’s movements were jerky as he pulled off his jerkin. He was a man of control but he appeared to be distracted to the point the jerkin slid through his fingers before he could toss it onto the pile with his other worn clothing. He was still for a moment, breathing deeply.

He had no wounds that Sela could find. The blood belonged to others.

“Mage.” His voice was sharp enough to make her jump. “Come.”

She initially balked, afraid he was going to bind her and ruin her chance to escape. The coiled tension of his body made her change her mind. He had yet to hurt her, but she was taking no chances with him now. Karav had taught her to recognize danger, and this man was a ruthless predator.

Sela stood and approached, pausing at a distance comfortable to her, out of arms reach. Her heart beat faster, and fear fluttered through her.

“How many enemies track you?” Tieran demanded.

His tension and lethal tone made her want to run.

“I do not know,” she said quietly.

He snatched her neck with reflexes too fast for her to predict or counter. She stifled a cry. Tieran pulled her hood back then ripped off the cloak, tossing it. Sela closed her eyes, recalling what he had said earlier. Now was not the time to look him in the eye. He was too close again, the heat of his large hand around her neck and his warrior body terrifying her. The only disadvantage of not being bound: he could hurt her any way he pleased, and he possessed the strength to do it.

She could smell his sweat and the unique scent of a man, earthy yet different than Karav’s, the only other man who had ever been this close.

“How many?” Tieran asked again, this time in a low growl.

He was squeezing too tightly for her to swallow.

“I don’t know, my lord,” she repeated.

“You spent fourteen moons journeying with enemies tracking you, and you do not know how many they are?”

“N-no.”

He drew a deep breath. Rather than lash out at her or squeeze tighter, he softened his grip. “I chopped down two mages and their warriors. Are there more following you?”

Her eyes opened, and she stared at him. His body was close enough for them to touch, if she breathed in deeply, his intent attention on her. She expected to see him near snapping. Instead, the wired tension of his body seemed to have eased, replaced once again by his control.

“You killed a mage,” she whispered.

“I will not ask again,” he warned. His words were softer but accompanied by a nudge as he stepped into her.

“I don’t know,” she repeated, retreating in agitation. Touching calmed him but made her edgy. “There are probably more. But I do not know how many. Karav never spoke of the danger. I knew we were followed everywhere we ever went, but not by whom or how many.”

Sela gave the door a wild glance. She could never make it, not while he held her. She felt the wall bump her back. Tieran’s hand around her neck remained steady, and he stepped close enough for her to feel his body, trapping her against the wall.

“These mages were men,” he stated.

There was no question, and she stared at his chest for a moment before resting her head against the wall to meet his gaze. His golden eyes watched her like the great cats observed the humans they thought of as prey walking outside their cages. Sela tried to move away from Tieran, pressing her back against the wall.

“I do not understand what you ask,” she said and squirmed.

“Mages are not women?”

“Only one mage is a woman. There’s only one water mage,” she said, masking her surprise at his ignorance. “It has always been so. The others are men.”

“This is why they hunt you?”

She nodded, or tried to. The movement was stymied by his hand.

“The Inlands are the only kingdom that is landlocked,” she added. “To another kingdom, I am worth …” She stopped at the mercenary gleam in his eye, too aware that this man prized gold over honor.

A considering look crossed his face.

“You cannot …” she started, alarmed. Her body began to tremble at the idea of being auctioned off to another kingdom.

“Cannot what?” he demanded. “Trade this curse for gold?”

She flinched. “I am not a curse.”

“Those two mages killed twenty of my uncle’s men before I chopped them down.”

“You should not have survived two mages.” As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. Sela shifted, uncomfortable with his body against hers. He instinctively leaned into her enough to warn her not to move again.

“Why not?” Tieran appeared more interested than angered.

“Because mages don’t even kill mages. It’s part of our code.”

“What else does this code say?”

“It’s an unwritten code. It can only be learned, not spoken of.”

“I’ve never heard shit that deep,” he said. “Does every mage make up his own code?”

They did, but this secret was not one she would ever reveal. The sacred mage code was a myth, a tool mages used to protect themselves from others.

She pulled her bound hands between their bodies and gripped his forearm. She felt like crying. She hated what he did! She could not move, could hardly breathe. She shifted again, and he leaned a little more weight against her.

While the tension was still there, he watched her squirm, calming while she grew more agitated. She thought she saw cold amusement flicker through his eyes.

“Stop fighting me,” he told her.

She dropped her gaze to his chest before he could see the anger flaring amidst her fear. He had her pinned against a wall! What threat was she? How was she fighting him?

“I do not follow written laws let alone unwritten ones,” he continued.

“No one can kill a mage. It should’ve been impossible for you to do!”

“And yet I did it,” he said, unconcerned with how important his actions were. “These other mages, what are their magics, if not water?”

“What color were their eyes?”

“They were silver.”

“Wind mages,” she said. “If their eyes are copper, they are land. If silver, wind. If gold, flame.”

It was even harder to breathe with him pressed against her. Sela wanted to scream. Instead, she pushed at him with her bound hands, not surprised to find he did not move.

“I’m not fighting you,” she said, a mixture of panic and anger in her voice.

“Blue for water.” He ignored her and lifted her chin with his other hand, forcing her to meet his gaze.

She tried to move her head but found it, too, impossible. Trapped, scared and helpless, she willed herself not to cry.

“You hate this,” he observed, this time his amusement more apparent.

“It is not fitting for anyone to touch a woman or mage of noble birth!” she said. “Let me go!”

“Then yield.”

“I can’t fight you!”

Tieran held her gaze, waiting.

Sela released her breath and tried to relax. It was almost impossible. Near tears, she struggled to figure out how to appease him.

“Mages are wild. We are not meant to be caged or trapped,” she tried again.

“Your warriors control you.”

“No, they serve us,” she strained again.

“Nay, mage. You serve me,” he assured her. “Now yield.”

“I already have!” she almost yelled.

Like she yielded to Karav. If Karav touched her, she did not resist or refuse him. Was this a mage-warrior custom?

Sela swallowed hard once more and did for Tieran what she would have done if Karav were in his place.

She released her fear and forced the tension from her frame. Tieran was no longer agitated, more curious, as if he did not understand how she did not understand what he asked of her. Her breathing calmed as the moment stretched on.

“Good,” he said.

He released her neck and eased away without stepping away. Sela took a deep breath, relieved to be free.

He touched his temples. “This madness leaves when this … binding is performed?” he asked.

When. As if he had chosen to go through with it. She started to tense again. His body responded, his weight resting lightly against hers. She took a steadying breath and relaxed. He shifted away.

For whatever reason, this level of submission eased his tension. She made a mental note that he was more in tune with her physically than Karav had ever been. Tieran possessed animal instincts. Perhaps, when younger, Karav had as well, or perhaps, he was disciplined enough to hide it where Tieran was not.

“Yes,” she replied. “It is how the ancient mages forced warriors to bond.”

“It grows stronger the farther I go from you.” His tone held a furious note in it, one that made her feel vindicated in some small sense and urgent to flee in another. He held her gaze despite his warning earlier.

“I don’t feel what you do,” she replied.

“Were you ever apart from your master?” he asked. “Did Karav suffer this way?”

“I never slept a night away from his side,” she said sadly.

“You were his lover.”

“Of course not!” she snapped. “When I was old enough to be bound, Karav lived with me and helped my father raise me. I forbade him from going far from me. Many times, he scouted ahead or stayed behind when we traveled to handle the danger, but I knew he was never far.”

Crossing his arms in the space between them, Tieran studied her.

“Did this madness make you kill the mages and their warriors?” she asked, unable to shake her concern.

“I killed them because they were my enemies.”

“But they were mages. And their warriors.”

Karav once told her he could kill a mage and he could kill a mage-warrior – but not both at the same time. They were too powerful combined, for the warriors were unparalleled in their fighting skills and the mages able to kill off attackers the warriors distracted.

How had Tieran killed two mages? Two wind mages, who should have been able to hold him in midair until their warriors cut him to pieces?

Her concern was bordering on panic again. Tieran did not need to be bound to her to feel her tension. He leaned again.

“I’m not resisting!” she cried, frustrated.

He raised an eyebrow. She drew a breath and forced her body to relax.

“You have much to learn of our ways,” he said. “Why does it matter to you who I kill? You fear for your own life, knowing I can kill a mage?” There was a note bordering on arrogance in his voice.

“Killing me would be no challenge,” she retorted. “I am too far from water to be more of a threat than any other woman. This is not true of wind mages. And if you faced them and their two warriors in the same breath …” He had done what entire armies could not.

Tieran was special, and that scared her.

“Remember that, mage,” he said, unable to appreciate his accomplishment in the same light she did. “What happens when I bind you to me?”

“You stabilize my magic.”

His gaze sharpened. The pressure of his body made her sigh.

“You gain the tools you need to protect your ward,” she said. “If I am in danger, you will know. It’s not something I know how to explain except to say you must experience it. We become forever bound.”

He scowled. She hoped his unwillingness would prevent him from coming after her once she escaped. The man who killed mages and their warriors with no effort was not the man who would fail to claim her, if he wanted to. She needed to put enough distance between the two of them to discourage him.

“We will have to leave your Inlands,” she added, wanting to give him as many reasons as possible not to follow through. “We will put your kin in danger otherwise.”

Tieran scowled and turned away. “My tribe has suffered enough.”

“Then do not let them suffer more when you can stop it. We can go far from the Inlands. Maybe even across the Topaz Pass.” She sagged against the wall, exhausted by his interrogation.

“I’ve never left the Inlands, and I never plan to.” Tieran stripped out of his tunic and under-tunic, revealing the thick muscles of his back to her. She turned away, as she did for Karav. A few minutes later, the sounds of him changing clothing ceased, and he strapped Karav’s sword to his back.

Karav’s sword.

Her throat tightened.

“Fetch your cloak,” Tieran directed.

She obeyed. He did not bother waiting at the door but walked out and left it open. She assumed he meant for her to follow. Sela trotted after him, hoping he was taking her to the wells. Her hopes fell when he entered a bustling great hall. She smelled the water in the air among the scents and breathed it in deeply. A glance out the windows confirmed thick, gray clouds that had yet to rain but would soon.

I can’t stay here, she thought in desperation.