“No one knew I cared for you because for some years, I didn’t. That changed when I felt what fate was doing. The bond,” he said. The question punched free of my chest, as if my heart demanded an answer. “When?” “I first felt it when you poisoned me.” His voice was soft, almost wistful, as he said, “The way you raised your wine to me when you should have been fleeing for your half-mortal life.”
