Giving up, I return to resting back on him and relaxing. I can hear his heart beating beneath my ear. And I gently place my hand on his chest.
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s that I physically can’t,” I growl at Jonah this time. Lifting my head again. What a load of shit that was. “I’m being serious Mara, Kyan is a…” he growls, annoyed.
“What?” I furrow my brows.
“I fucking can’t say that either, apparently,” Jonah snaps, annoyed. And it seems like it is physically hard for him to speak.
“You know his family came from Salem witches?” I nod. I have heard that over the years, mentions of his bloodline being descendants of witches.
“That makes no sense. You’re worried that if you tell me, the ghosts of Kyan ancestors will come back to haunt you,” I joke.
“No, but that is why I can’t tell you,” he says, making me sit up.
His voice sounds pained, and I can hear him speaking through his teeth. I reach over him, flicking on the small lamp beside his bed. Looking at Jonah, his jaw is clenched, and sweat is beading on his body and face. His pupils are dilated, and I notice his wolf flickering beneath the surface. He really is telling the truth.
“Jax?” I ask as his eyes flicker between Jonah’s beautiful blue to black.
“Ask me,” Jonah says, but something about the way he says it makes me not want to. “Ask Mara; I can prove it,” Jonah says, desperately. His body ripples as he tries to keep himself composed
“You look like you’re in pain though,” I whisper, growing worried.
“Ask,” he repeats.
Kora presses forward, observing, too. She is also suddenly uncomfortable, the same feeling washing through me from her; she is worried for Jonah. “What was the text message about?”
“Dom…” Jonah’s word cuts off, and I gasp when I see black veins writhe under his skin as Jonah holds his hand up.
The black veiny marks move under his skin and up his arm when I notice a large scar on the palm of his hand. His entire body tenses, and the scar ripples and turns black, the veins seem to appear like they are coming from it as they move up his arm and across his body.
“Stop, stop,” I tell him as his teeth clench, and I notice Jax press forward before Jonah suddenly slumps back on the bed.
“You really can’t tell me, so the rumors are true; Kyan has witch blood?” Jonah nods. I feel a wave of guilt wash over me, that he had to go through that to prove a point to me.
“Some things I can say. I can’t tell you everything, not unless Kyan wants you to know. Until then, I can’t speak of it. This prevents me from speaking,” he says, pointing to the scar.
“So it’s like a?” I have no idea what I’m asking. I try to think of what kind of witches possess magic like this, but I frown as I realize I know little nothing about any witches, let alone some with super powers like these.
“Blood bond. Apparently that, I may tell you,” Jonah chuckles, shaking his head.
“How does it work? Does anyone else know?” I ask. All of a sudden, I’m intrigued, and want to understand the situation a little better.
“Basically, it is like a non-disclosure agreement. If I tell you something, Kyan can feel my intentions to tell you, and he can also stop me from telling you. Certain things I already knew which were outlined when the bond was put in place, I thought I wouldn’t be able to tell you, but it seems Kyan doesn’t mind you knowing about our weird bond,” he says while rolling his eyes, and shaking his head.
“So, is it like a mate bond?” I ask, confused.
“No, I can’t feel Kyan when he is in human form unless he wants me to; I am mainly connected with his…” Jonah’s voice becomes strained. And I can’t stand to see him in pain like this.
“It’s fine, don’t keep hurting yourself. So, how many people know, does your dad know?” I ask him.
“Only Lucas knows of our bond and now you.” His breathing is labored, and I feel bad that he has to show me this.
“So you can tell me nothing?”
“But did you really just learn nothing?” Jonah smiles.
“What do you mean?” Jonah holds up his hand and shows me the scar.
Suddenly realization dawns on me…”Wait, Kyan is a witch,” Kora gasps in my head.
“Kyan did that?” I ask Jonah, and he nods.
“So Kyan is a witch, a warlock, or whatever it is?” Jonah nods again, and I don’t know what to feel. I struggle to wrap my head around the revelation.
“I can’t say the words, but yes, that is what he is,” Jonah whispers.
“But he has a wolf, so how does that work?” Jonah presses his lips together, cursing under his breath. “It’s fine,” I tell him. I don’t want to watch him go through all that again.
“It’s not fine; Kyan should be telling you this. He is your mate,” Jonah says with a sigh.
“What can you tell me then besides Kyan, hating me?” I ask him, now wrapping my arms around myself.
“Kyan doesn’t hate you, Mara,” he says softly, something he has told me countless times, but it’s so hard to even hold faith in.
He hops out of bed and wanders out of his room. I sigh softly, running my fingers through my hair. I turn, about to go see where he is, when he returns with his phone that I left on the coffee table next to the couch.
He climbs back into bed, patting his chest, and I quickly lay back down, watching as he fiddles with his phone and logs into his family’s Google account. He pulls up some old video footage.
My brows push together when he hits play; I see Jonah as a boy sitting next to a dark-haired boy holding a baby while they play on the grass, in what I can tell is Uncle Andrei’s backyard.