Chapter 44 #2
“Apologies,” Wolfe said with a slight dip of his head.
“Speech,” Dreynthor grated under his breath, the word edged with irritation. His gaze flicked to me, flinty and unamused.
I wondered if he could tell what was going on with us—the bond at work because we hadn’t slept together yet. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but I kept my gaze ahead.
Wolfe stepped forward to take Dreynthor’s place at the center of the circle.
His hand slipped from mine, and the absence hit instantly, a sharp, hollow drop in my soul.
The bond pulled hard with insistence, like something straining against restraint.
And I suddenly felt hot. Hot like I’d stepped too near a raging hearth in the dead of winter.
Wolfe began to speak.
“Tonight is one I’ll remember for the rest of my life…”
I barely heard the rest. I tried to focus on his words, but my attention snagged on his body instead — the breadth of his shoulders, the hard muscle outlined beneath the dark fabric of his jacket, the strength in those long, powerful legs.
I remembered him shirtless, and the image undid me.
I had to look away.
I searched for something steady. Something other than the male in front of me.
Across the hall, I found Arielle. She stood beside Bastian, the two of them caught in their own private world, oblivious to everything else.
The bond tightened again, and this time it had no patience.
I swayed, dizziness washing over me, my thoughts slipping loose.
Then the hall erupted in cheers.
The sound crashed over me, sudden and overwhelming. I blinked, disoriented, and realized Wolfe had finished.
Dreynthor approached once more, a goblet of dark wine cradled in both hands. The silver cup was etched with ancient Fae sigils, shimmering faintly in the torchlight.
“The Chalice of Bounded Souls,” he announced smoothly. “A tradition of the Fae.”
He extended it toward Wolfe.
Wolfe accepted the chalice without hesitation.
His gaze found mine, then he tipped the cup to his lips and drank.
He swallowed once, lowered the chalice, then he extended it to me.
I took it, my pulse hammering as I wrapped my fingers around the cool metal. The sigils etched along its surface hummed faintly beneath my touch.
I lifted it to my lips and drank too.
The garnet-colored wine was rich and warm as it slid down my throat and for a heartbeat, the world felt suspended.
The crowd cheered again.
The cheers lingered for a few heartbeats then the violins rose again.
Wolfe set the chalice aside and turned back to me.
“Dance with me,” he murmured, then he didn’t wait for my answer. His hand slid to my waist and he guided me onto the floor.
The music seem to follow us. Wolfe pressed his palm against my back, and I pressed my head to his chest, seeking closeness. The bond steadied for a moment, soothed by the sound of his heartbeat and the certainty of him.
“I got you,” he whispered in my ear. “One more hour, then we’re out of here.”
“One hour.” My voice came out breathy. I wasn’t going to last that long. I understood how a person could go crazy from this unyielding sensation. I was standing on the verge.
Wolfe moved easily with me. Our guests followed, joining us in our first dance.
It was another beautiful moment I always wanted to remember. With the bond quiet, I allowed myself the freedom to get lost Wolfe’s arms.
Then the song ended, applause followed and the court descended.
Well-wishers circled, offering congratulations, praise, blessings.
The bond stirred again every inch of space between Wolfe and me suddenly unbearable.
We stood with the Bloodsworn and two older Fae females who spoke fondly about Wolfe’s parents.
They offered me so much praise and seemed to genuinely like me, but I couldn’t focus.
I needed air.
Or rather distance.
This thing—the bond—seemed to be more tolerable when I was away from Wolfe, not near him. At least that was what I’d assumed, judging from the fact that I was okay before I arrived at the palace.
I tugged on Wolfe’s arm. “I’m just going outside. For a few minutes.”
Wolfe’s eyes sharpened instantly. He knew. He knew why I had to go. “I’ll go with you.”
“No. I’ll be fine. I just need air.”
He thought for a moment then nodded. “Alright, don’t go too far.”
I nodded and excused myself from the group.
The bond tugged once more as I slipped from Wolfe’s grasp and turned toward the doors.
His eyes followed me but I dare not look back.
People bowed as I went by. I barely managed to smile at them as I went by.
Finally, I made it outside and dragged in a deep, deep breath of the cool night air. But it wasn’t enough to appease the ache that was now ploughing through my chest.
I decided I needed more distance so I made my way through the garden.
My pace quickened and I didn’t stop until the music had dulled behind me.
The gardens stretched wide beneath the night sky, silvered by moonlight and the gentle glow of lantern. Gravel crunched beneath my shoes as I veered from the main path.
At the far edge of the grounds stood a small stone folly, beneath a cluster of cypress trees. It rose from the manicured hedges, its arched entrance framed in climbing ivy. The roof curved in a shallow dome, with its pale stone walls catching the light.
This was perfect. Exactly what I needed.
I stepped beneath the arch and savored the cooler air.
I pressed my palms to the smooth stone and drew in a slow breath. Then another.
The deep breathing steadied the spinning in my head, and even eased the heat beneath my skin but it did nothing to quell the restlessness of the bond’s pull in my mind and body.
I closed my eyes and continued breathing.
Just then, shadows stirred beside me.
Not the gentle shift of night.
A gathering. A folding in the air.
I straightened as the darkness thickened, twisting in on itself before unraveling in a rush.
Wolfe stepped from it as though the night itself had shaped him.
At the sight of him the bond flared again.
“Ziyka,” he rasped, almost teasingly, his eyes riveting to mine.
“Wolfe, I needed—”
“Me.” The look he gave me was daring. Daring me to lie or tell the truth. “You need me. That’s right, isn’t it?”
The air around us sizzled with unspoken need, every stolen glance throughout the night pulling the thread tighter until I thought I might shatter.
My lips parted. I gazed deep into his eyes and I decided to tell the truth.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I want you.”
He stepped closer, closing the distance between us, then he pressed a finger to my cheek. “Need. Want. Two sides of the same coin. Which do you want from me, Ziyka?”
The sounded simple. But it wasn’t. It was the crux of our relationship. The solution to my confusion. I just had to choose one. But I couldn’t pick, so I gave the answer that came straight from my heart.
“Can I have both? I want both. Need both. From you.”
He nodded once. “Yes. You can have both. From me.”
The words barely settled before something shifted between us and the fragile restraint, we’d both been holding splintered all at once.
His hand tightened at my cheek and his breath faltered, then his gaze dropped to my mouth like he’d been fighting the urge for far too long.
Then he lowered his head.
Not slowly, like at our wedding. Like he couldn’t stop himself.
His lips found mine in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs and the world beyond the stone arch disappeared.