Those feelings would be lost now. After a drought of emotion for hundreds of years, I should be used to that state. Hell, I should welcome it back. Life was simpler and easier that way, certainly.
Yet, I dreaded it.
Fate seemed to be pulling at my arm as I raised it to take the ladle, trying to drag me backward. I resisted, taking the utensil. Carrow took hers as well.
“Drink at the same time,” Cyrenthia said.
I nodded, dipping my ladle and retrieving some of the potion. Carrow grimaced and did the same.
“Don’t be a ninny,” Cyrenthia said. “It’s no big deal to drink a little blood.”
“Frankly, that sounds insane,” Carrow said. “But I’m not from your world, so I’m going to trust you.”
“You’d better.” Cyrenthia scowled.
Carrow almost scowled back—her nose wrinkled just slightly, and her eyes narrowed—but she smoothed her features and nodded. I could feel how on edge she was. The tension vibrated off her.
Did she not want to break the bond?
Of course she did. That was ridiculous.
But maybe . . . just maybe . . . she felt the tiniest bit of regret for what might have been. It all but swallowed me alive.
“Now?” I asked, forcing myself toward the task.
“Now.” She raised her ladle.
We drank, maintaining eye contact. The potion was sweet and sour at the same time, and I swore I could taste the faintest hint of Carrow’s blood. The beast roared inside, me, but I forced it back, aided by the potion that raced through my body.
Magic sparked along every nerve ending, shooting through muscle and bone. When it happened, I felt it, so strong and fierce.
The bond broke, like a great tree snapping in the middle and tumbling to the ground. Loss surged through me, followed by despair.
I stiffened, clenching my jaw.
I must get ahold of myself.
This kind of reaction was unacceptable.
But the bond was broken. I could feel it. The invisible threads of fate that had bound us together were severed, and their absence was like a lost limb.
Carrow’s eyes flickered, but it was impossible to read them. She raised a hand toward my face, and I nearly leaned into her touch. Before she made contact, she closed her fist and lowered her hand. “You look better.”
I caught sight of my reflection in one of the mirrors, and the change was obvious. The weight that I’d lost had returned, and I looked like myself again.
Cyrenthia frowned at us, her gaze flicking back and forth.
“What?” I asked.
“Your bond . . . it is severed, but . . . You must be careful. Do not spend much time together. You must not fall for each other, or I can’t guarantee that fate won’t reassert itself.”
It was like a punch to the gut.
Of course we couldn’t be around each other. I shouldn’t even assume that Carrow would want that. But . . .
To face it.
My future looked bleak without her, an endless dark tunnel that pressed in on me.