his eyes, hoping but knowing there was no hope.
“I can’t—” She shook her head. “You forced that girl.” Slowly, she turned, her tip-tilted eyes huge in her white face. Tears glittered on her cheeks. “Perverted your Magick.”
“I raped her,” said Erik hoarsely, wanting to die.
“And you raped her mind.”
“Yes.”
Her lip curled, in exactly the way he’d been dreading. “No excuses? No justifications?”
“No.”
She took a tiny step forward. “You’ve been suffering the tortures of the damned ever since.”
It wasn’t a question, but he answered it anyway. “I tried never to think of it, but underneath . . . Yes.”
Prue tilted her head to one side. “Did you send money?”
“I still do. To Ma. For her and my brothers, and for her to give Inga’s family. They don’t know it comes from me.”
Prue wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her robe. “A lot of things make sense now. Inga was the experience that shaped your life, made you who you are.”
“Yes.” He clenched his fists so he wouldn’t reach for her. “When we met, I thought you were a challenge sent by the gods, my punishment, but then . . .” He was such a coward, he couldn’t take the risk, say the words aloud. Erik dropped his head.
The robe swished and small fingers caught his chin. “Then what?” Prue’s eyes sparkled with what looked like fury.
Erik dared to brush her cheek with his knuckles. “I thought you might be my salvation, but I can see I was wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“I can smell the anger coming off your skin. You’re furious. Disgusted.”
Prue flushed. “Of course, I am! How could I be anything else?”
He’d shoved his bags under the bed so she wouldn’t see. “All right,” he said dully. “I’ll get my things.”
“How dare They?” snarled Prue, following some incomprehensible train of thought. “A boy of seventeen!”
“What?” he said.
“And people look so shocked when I say I don’t believe! Hah!”
Erik’s heart flip-flopped in his chest. “Prue,” he said, “what the hell are you talking about?”
“Them! The bloody gods! Has it never occurred to you how unfair it was to place such a burden on a boy, a mere child?”
He stared. “But Prue, what I did—”
She gripped his arm. “Was wrong, wicked. Hideous. I don’t condone it, not for a second. You did it of your own free will, but don’t you see? They used you and poor Inga, your precious Lord and Lady.” She snorted. “I know grown men who’d go mad with a tenth of the power They gave you at seventeen.”
“Prue, you’re crazy.”
“Am I?” She took a restless turn around the room. “You’ve hated yourself all these years, locked yourself in a prison made of rules, a personal honor code so rigid you couldn’t let anyone close. You told me that yourself.”
“Honor? After what I did—”
“Godsdammit! Will you get past what you did?”
Dumbfounded, Erik shook his head.
“Think about it.” Prue’s voice softened as she drew him down to the couch. “The cost was Inga’s life, but the result was an air wizard with iron control, a man morally fit to be one Side of the Great Pentacle.” She gazed earnestly into his face. “You’re the most honorable man I know, Erik. You risked your life for mine.” Her lips trembled as she smiled. “It’s yours now. You might as well keep it.”
Gods, was he going to faint? Spots danced in his vision. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
Prue hesitated and his heart sank. After an age, she said, “It’s strange. I’ve little use for the gods, but there’s a piece of scripture I’ve always loved. The Bridal Gift of the Sister. It’s a prescribed text for the religious education of adolescent girls.” Pink rose in her cheeks. “I’m not always good with words, not like you. Will you listen?”
He nodded.
Prue took a deep breath. “Courage is the gift of the Brother,” she began, “but love is the gift of the Sister. On the night They were wed, the Sister knelt before Him—Brother, Husband, Lord. ‘True love is My gift to You, Beloved,’ the Sister said.”
Slowly, she reached out and grasped Erik’s hand.
“She touched Her starry eyes. She said, ‘True love sees what is—the good, the bad and all that is between. Because love loves.’ ”
Something was rising inside him, something spiky and painful, struggling to be free. Erik tightened his grip on her fingers.
“The Sister offered Her wrists and cruel ropes appeared, chafing Her silky skin. ‘True love can bear anything, endure anything. Love goes on hoping to the edge of forever.