Read Online Shared Between Them by Korey Mae Johnson - Free Book Online
Authors: Korey Mae Johnson
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sear, as if an invisible knife was slicing into them.
Draevan's expression changed to murderous, and he opened his mouth to say something, but a forlorn cry of pain escaped Kyra's lips, and he turned to look at her.
The skin on her arms was beginning to change. While there used to be a small white tattoo spanning up some of her fingers, now the lace-like paisley tattoo began to creep up her skin like a vine, right before their eyes.
“You are bound forever together,” the king finished, and then gestured for his people to rejoice. For a long while, Taric and Draevan were too busy inspecting the arms of their new wife to begin inspecting their own. When they looked down at their hands and forearms, they saw that where their own skin had been seared and pained was a tattoo exactly like their wife's.
“What is this?” Draevan asked the king as the people all around them cheered, happy that they weren't the ones who had to marry them.
“The Binding,” the king replied, as if the answer was all too obvious. When Draevan remained unhappy by the response, he added, “There's magic binding you together now. You all have become of one spirit, and her powers are now shared by you.”
“She cannot turn invisible?” Draevan asked, awed. Somehow they both felt that was the best part of this 'binding' nonsense.
The king looked at him like Draevan was a child fooled by a magician pulling a coin from behind his ear. “She cannot hide from you anymore than you can hide from yourself.” The king turned, then looked over his shoulder as if he'd forgotten something. “Congratulations.”
Chapter Three
It had been a trying day, and all Kyra wanted to do was vomit what pittance was left in her stomach and curl up into the fetal position in a corner somewhere. Her stomach was tied into knots, and she had barely slept for nearly a month. She was exhausted, cold, and damp because the dungeons had less-than-ideal conditions for those who wanted to stay dry.
Her arms throbbed, and her pride? Well, that was long gone. It had been gone since the night she decided to play with fire in the form of the human giant-killers.
“C'mon, honey,” Taric said when she crumpled over before they'd even made it out of the arena. He hoisted her easily into his arms and carried her like a babe up the stairs leading towards the castle.
“Is she alright?” Draevan asked over her head. “God help us if she's taken ill!”
“I don't know. She's cold as ice,” Taric replied, concern saturating his voice. He looked down at her. “What were you thinking about, running away? We told you we'd take care of you from here on out.”
“I'm not…” She meant to argue that she wasn't a slave, that they didn't own her, and a lot of other trifle that, since the binding ceremony, wasn't at all true. Wives, when looked at it in a certain way, were very similar to slaves. They had to do what they were bid; their husbands kept all the rights of their person.
She didn't get to even argue. She passed out. She had never fainted before, but then again, she had never been nearly hung and then married to two human men against her will before. Though the real reason she'd fainted was mainly because she hadn't been given water or food for the last three days because the executioners preferred a clean corpse, and before that, the bowls of gruel she had been eating the last three weeks weren’t the most nutritious meals she'd ever eaten.
When her eyes fluttered open, she found herself lying in a bed . She had never lain in a bed before; and it was just like she'd heard it to be. It was like sleeping on cloud! Even though her head and stomach ached, she could still feel the fluffy mattress under her, pleasantly warm.
It was then she realized she had been… bathed. Her body felt so clean and soft, and she smelled good, fresh.
“ Finally! ” she heard a male's voice above her say. The word was pregnant with relief. “She's waking up.” She felt a
Draevan's expression changed to murderous, and he opened his mouth to say something, but a forlorn cry of pain escaped Kyra's lips, and he turned to look at her.
The skin on her arms was beginning to change. While there used to be a small white tattoo spanning up some of her fingers, now the lace-like paisley tattoo began to creep up her skin like a vine, right before their eyes.
“You are bound forever together,” the king finished, and then gestured for his people to rejoice. For a long while, Taric and Draevan were too busy inspecting the arms of their new wife to begin inspecting their own. When they looked down at their hands and forearms, they saw that where their own skin had been seared and pained was a tattoo exactly like their wife's.
“What is this?” Draevan asked the king as the people all around them cheered, happy that they weren't the ones who had to marry them.
“The Binding,” the king replied, as if the answer was all too obvious. When Draevan remained unhappy by the response, he added, “There's magic binding you together now. You all have become of one spirit, and her powers are now shared by you.”
“She cannot turn invisible?” Draevan asked, awed. Somehow they both felt that was the best part of this 'binding' nonsense.
The king looked at him like Draevan was a child fooled by a magician pulling a coin from behind his ear. “She cannot hide from you anymore than you can hide from yourself.” The king turned, then looked over his shoulder as if he'd forgotten something. “Congratulations.”
Chapter Three
It had been a trying day, and all Kyra wanted to do was vomit what pittance was left in her stomach and curl up into the fetal position in a corner somewhere. Her stomach was tied into knots, and she had barely slept for nearly a month. She was exhausted, cold, and damp because the dungeons had less-than-ideal conditions for those who wanted to stay dry.
Her arms throbbed, and her pride? Well, that was long gone. It had been gone since the night she decided to play with fire in the form of the human giant-killers.
“C'mon, honey,” Taric said when she crumpled over before they'd even made it out of the arena. He hoisted her easily into his arms and carried her like a babe up the stairs leading towards the castle.
“Is she alright?” Draevan asked over her head. “God help us if she's taken ill!”
“I don't know. She's cold as ice,” Taric replied, concern saturating his voice. He looked down at her. “What were you thinking about, running away? We told you we'd take care of you from here on out.”
“I'm not…” She meant to argue that she wasn't a slave, that they didn't own her, and a lot of other trifle that, since the binding ceremony, wasn't at all true. Wives, when looked at it in a certain way, were very similar to slaves. They had to do what they were bid; their husbands kept all the rights of their person.
She didn't get to even argue. She passed out. She had never fainted before, but then again, she had never been nearly hung and then married to two human men against her will before. Though the real reason she'd fainted was mainly because she hadn't been given water or food for the last three days because the executioners preferred a clean corpse, and before that, the bowls of gruel she had been eating the last three weeks weren’t the most nutritious meals she'd ever eaten.
When her eyes fluttered open, she found herself lying in a bed . She had never lain in a bed before; and it was just like she'd heard it to be. It was like sleeping on cloud! Even though her head and stomach ached, she could still feel the fluffy mattress under her, pleasantly warm.
It was then she realized she had been… bathed. Her body felt so clean and soft, and she smelled good, fresh.
“ Finally! ” she heard a male's voice above her say. The word was pregnant with relief. “She's waking up.” She felt a
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