Bound

There he stood at the center of the circles--Blodgeritch's outer, Cavia's generational, my intimate.  Thrice bound.

But his eyes didn't reflect the circles, or the betrayal, or sadness.  No, another emotion dressed them as he watched me.

"Tay," he said softly.  "You didn't understand, did you? Too quick to make judgements, not quick enough to trust your heart.  It's okay," he smiled.  "I'll still be here when you come back."

My eyes widened as his words sank in, then I steeled myself and thrust the knife through my palm.  The spell wrapped me in its thorns and I fell to the ground, slamming my blood onto the circle. Red erupted angrily from the boundaries, and behind me, I heard Blodgeritch and Cavia yell.

Ian gathered me into his arms.

"I found a way," I whispered.  For once, I'd trusted my heart.  "The spell's only meant for one binding."

I felt his answer against my cheek but couldn't hear it.  Only energy, ripping me apart.

___

The prompt for this story is "Show someone physically, emotionally, or intellectually trapped or puzzled."  I love how craft pieces open up whole new stories, don't you?  What is your story for this prompt?  And if you want to read other's takes on it, take a look at our lovely hostess Suzanne Warr's blog-hop links.