I Became my Mate's Concubine
I asked her again.
Ember’s gaze deepened, as though she were looking far beyond my face. Slowly, she reached for a small wooden box on the table beside her. Its surface was worn smooth, and faint carvings of curling vines ran along the edges. She opened it with care, and from the box, she lifted a pendant, a teardrop-shaped crystal of pale gold, caged within silver filigree. Threads of light seemed to coil and uncoil within it. The chain was thin but strong, woven from some metal I did not recognize.
"This," she said, holding it in her palm, "is the Anchor of Breath. It was forged long before I was born. It binds the soul to the body that wears it but not for long."
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