Saltbound and Bloodsworn (by Allison Franklin) novel Chapter 84

Saltbound and Bloodsworn

Chapter 84 Chapter Eighty-Four

Water brushed against Isla’s toes. She pinched her eyes together. Her loosened palms constricted to fists as her mother sighed.

“Same time tomorrow, I suppose,” her mother said, her voice resigned.

Four days. Isla had been attempting to control the tide for four days. She waited for her mother’s footsteps to recede before she slapped her palms against the moistening sand beside her hips and shoved up to her feet. Each day started the same: her mother dragged her out of bed, waxed poetic about the instincts of a Tideborn, instructed Isla to sit, told her to not let the tide touch her toes, and left. Each day would end the same too: she failed. There was no deviation in her training, no further words of wisdom, no encouragement. Just a disappointed sigh of resignation and the same line, “Same time tomorrow.”

Isla’s bare feet slapped against the smooth stone of the road leading to her refuge. She could hear the monotonous rhythmt of training going on in the arena nearby Since Sylvan chose to make an example of the elite dragon riders, he’d spent much of his time training them how to wear the “elite” title with more distinction. His back was toward her as she strode past. She briefly wondered if his trainees felt the same for him as she did about her annoying, stoic, unyielding biological…

“Isla.”

A rough hand caught her upper arm, and she squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of Sylvan’s concerned voice.

“Did you think I would just let you walk by whilst feeling the anger radiating off you like smoke from an impending volcanic eruption?” he asked, his thumb

smoothing over her skin.

“I’m tired. I just want to go back to the house.”

“Another bad day?” he asked, allowing her to pull her arm free.

Isla scoffed. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t been poking around my head all morning to gauge how it was going.”

“You could feel that, huh? That’s good. It means your wolf is getting stronger,” he said, his voice soft, cajoling in a way that only heightened her ire.

“I’m going to the house,” Isla said, starting to walk again.

“Hey, hey, come here,” Sylvan urged, grabbing her arms and turning her to face him.

“Sylvan, I just…”

“I heard you,” he said, his silver eyes filled with concern as he took a few steps back to lean against a nearby fence, He pulled her with him, refusing to let her walk away. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

Isla sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I can’t do it. Whatever she’s trying to get me to do, I can’t get it done, and she doesn’t change her method. All she does is tell me the same things over and over as if it’ll suddenly sink in.”

“There must be a reason,” he rationalized, crossing his arms.

Isla rolled her eyes. “Right, like you’d know.”

Sylvan let out a humorless chuckle. “There was more to my becoming the notorious ‘Mate Killer’ than genetics, believe it or not,” he remarked. “I had to train, like every other warrior.”

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Chapter 84 Chapter Eighty-Four

Isla stiffed and crossed her armix “Yeah, and I’m sure you picked everything up like a prodigy.”

Sylvan smirked and shrugged his shoulder, unable to argue. “So will you, once you get this lesson down; I’m sure it will all click into place. It’s instinct.”

*Instinct I apparently don’t have.”

“Tell me what she’s asking of you. Maybe I can help, he offered.

“Please, you can’t help because you aren’t a true Tideborn,” Isla mocked in her mother’s pretentious accent with a roll of her eyes.

“Come on now.” Sylvan took her hands and pulled her between his legs. “Tell me

Isla sighed. “She wants me to control the tide.”

“That sounds difficult.”

“No kidding. I have to harness the power of the moon and the ocean, the two most powerful forces on the planet, and she acts like it’s as simple as putting

a stick down in front of a line of ants.”

Sylvan laughed and bobbed his head. “She must want you to learn something from it. She wouldn’t be focusing on it for this long, wasting this much of your valuable training time, if it didn’t unlock a valuable lesson. What does she tell you to do exactly?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in concentration, telling her

he genuinely cared about helping her work through this.

“She has me sit in this same spot and gives me exactly five hours to deviate the tide. She says, ‘Don’t let the tide touch your toes.’ Then she disappears for five hours and comes back just in time to watch me fail,” Isla explained hopelessly. When she looked back into Sylvan’s eyes, they were creased with humor.

“What?”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “Nothing. You know what I bet it is?” he asked, drawing her closer so he could place his hands around her waist.

*Clue me in.”

“I bet you just need a break from your fae training. Maybe if you could connect more with your wolf, the side of your life you grew up understanding, you

could think more clearly. Why don’t we do a training session together?” he prompted.

“You? Train me?” she asked with eyebrows rising to her hairline.

“Some may say I’m well-versed in the topic, yes,” he said with a cock of an eyebrow.

“Don’t they say couples shouldn’t work together?”

“Well, I’m afraid to say we won’t have much choice in that matter, princess,” he said, already pushing off of the fence.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked as they started to walk. “I’m not getting in the arena with you,” she added, already knowing that she wouldn’t stand a chance.

Sylvan laughed large enough that he threw his head back, and she couldn’t help but smile at the fact that she was able to elicit that reaction out of him. “No, I was thinking of something even more basic,” he informed her after regaining his composure.

“Oh, gods,” Isla said on a sigh. “That’s what my mother said too. You’re going to make me do something crazy like track a dragon, aren’t you?”

His laughter was more subdued this time. “No… I was thinking you could track me instead.”

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Chapter 84 Chapter Eighty-Four

Me peck-you?” she asked, the woods outside of the city coming into view.

“Sure. You should know it’s one of the first training tactics utilized by our kind. It forces us to tap into our instinctual sides. It helps us to attune and communicate with our wolf without diving over full control. It’s obvious you had practice being the prey,” he said, giving her a side-eye. She smiled with pride at how she’d managed to outmaneuver most of his best-trained men back when they’d first met, and she attempted escape. “But I doubt you have

much, if any, being the predator.”

They reached the edge of the woods, and Sylvan walked just inside the treeline before he started to strip. Isla smirked as she did the same.

“So you run, and I give chase?” she asked.

Sylvan stood before her, bare as the day he was born. Her eyes skimmed over his physique. No matter how many times she admired him, his physical prowess never once ceased to impress. His finger touched her chin, forcing her eyes up to his. He playfully chucked her in the jaw before he slid the sleeves of her top over her shoulders using his palms.

“In a way. I want you to take me down like a deer,” he instructed, his own eyes trailing over her and losing focus as her top fell off completely. She cleared her throat, and his eyes jerked up, creased with humor. “I don’t want you to catch me. I want you to hunt me. Take me down with the purpose of killing.”

*There’s a difference?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Most definitely. Now,” he said, covering her eyes with the palm of his hand. “Close your eyes and no peeking. Count to ten.”

Isla laughed lightly and shook her head as she started to count out loud. She felt his hand leave her face and the sound of bones snapping, but she did as she was told and kept her eyes closed. As her count grew higher, she let over control to her wolf. By the time she reached ten, she was fully shifted and tracking his scent.

Sylvan made it easy for her at first. His scent was thick and straightforward. She followed it over fallen logs, over creekbeds, and through thick briar bushes. Then the scent vanished. She looked around and held her nose up high in the air. The wind changed, and she caught his scent: muffled and covered by a pine, earthy smell, but there. She charged for it only for it to suddenly split into four different directions. She looked around herself for other signs. A few broken twigs told her which direction was the right one. A tuft of black wolf hair confirmed it half a mile away.

Isla barreled through the woods, her wolf intent on the trail of her mate. Then the scent disappeared again. She felt a tugging at her mind and let Sylvan in.

I said to hunt me, Sylvan mindlinked. If I were a deer, I’d know exactly which way to run. You sound like a horse charging into battle.

Isla growled low and shook her head. She clearly didn’t have enough practice in her wolf form. Her legs were clumsy, her paws heavy-footed as she trodded

over the earth.

Let your wolf over completely, Sylvan suggested. Trust her to do what your human mind cannot.

You’re one to talk, Isla mocked back.

His low chuckle vibrated through her mind and soul. She let out a breath and could feel the moment her wolf took full control. Isla was pushed gently to the back of her own mind. She became a spectator to her wolf’s energy and intent. The sounds of the forest heightened. The scents exploded into various visual trails. The trees of the forest blurred past as her feet carried her soundlessly across the earth. A blur of black caught Isla’s attention, and she screamed for

her wolf to give chase. Instead, it did the opposite: it held back.

Isla watched helplessly as her wolf slowed to a crawl. She dropped down to her belly, her ears twitched with her mate’s movements as he slowed too. He could sense her. That much was clear. But… he couldn’t see her. Her wolf started to crawl; a low rumble of pleasure vibrated through her chest as she came upon an embankment that gave her the high ground. The black wolf stopped. It raised its nose into the air, its head turned in the opposite direction. Her wolf gave no sign. One moment she was on her belly, the next she was launching through the air without a sound other than the rustle of a leaf as it fell

from her paw.

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