Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
After a few more hours of pain, Thriti announced she was almost done. Zarya whimpered with relief. Her shoulder felt like it was on fire, and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
Thriti explained that an enchanted marking caused more pain due to the infusion of a special substance that would allow magic to bind with it.
“Is that how they add the collars?” Zarya asked without really meaning to. She didn’t have to explain what she was referring to as Thriti’s eyes darkened.
“Yes. It is a similar process.”
Zarya thought of the vanshaj babies screaming as they were branded with their collars. It was painful enough on her shoulder that she couldn’t imagine what it would feel like on the delicate skin of their tiny throats. She swallowed down a surge of nausea. If she had any lingering reservations about the Bandhan, they were just wiped away. She was committed to this. To the rebellion. To everything that had brought her to Ishaan.
Her gaze drifted to her left.
And to Rabin, too.
“We’re done with this part. Now I’ll infuse the ink with the magic to seal the Bandhan,” Thriti said a moment later. “It willhurt.”
“More than this?” Zarya asked.
“Much more.” She winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just do it.” Without thinking about it, Zarya turned to Rabin, seeking his strength. She saw something in his eyes: worry, fear, love .
He’d said it so casually like it had been something on his mind for a while. Had he meant that? She was sure it was a slip, but the moment it had left his mouth, she felt something shift, like a bend in the air. It was like a key turning on a lock she’d been keeping bolted up for fear of being hurt again.
Sitting with him in this room, she could feel the altering of her course. Maybe it was the magic around them. Maybe it was the knowledge they were binding themselves together. He was doing this willingly. Giving up his autonomy for her. And though she had endlessly worried it would feel unbalanced, she realized then that it would never be that way.
They were two parts of a whole. Not master and servant. That was just a technicality—two words for the magic that joined them. They were equal. As Rabin had said so many times, he was her destiny.
After today she could push him away all she wanted, but he could only ever go so far. Everyone was doubting him. Row. Yasen. And with good reason. But they didn’t know him the way she did.
He loved her. One might say it was ridiculous. That they’d only known each other a short time, but they’d already been through so much together. They’d already crossed so many divides.
Love.
Maybe.
It was what she’d always wanted. The stories in her books had been the only thing keeping her whole during her lonely life. And a man like Rabin…well, he was exactly as she’d always imagined. Actually, he was so much better.
He squeezed her hand tighter, and she wondered if he could sense what she was thinking. If he could feel a transformation slowly taking place, the shedding of her old skin to reveal another version of herself underneath, one that wanted to release the past and embrace the possibilities of their future.
“You too,” Thriti said to Rabin. “Get your shirt off.”
She gestured to him, and he reached behind his head, yanking off his kurta in one smooth movement, exposing warm brown flesh. Zarya traced the lines of his body with an admiring look.
“Can you stand?” Thriti asked Zarya. “It’s best when you’re touching. The more the better.”
“Sure,” Zarya said, swinging her legs off the bench with a wince. Her shoulder throbbed as Rabin helped her stand and drew her close.
“Arms around each other,” Thriti ordered. Zarya slid her arms around his waist as he folded her against him. “Close. Close.”
She felt Thriti’s hand on her back as they shuffled together.
“Now hold on.”
Zarya looked up to meet Rabin’s gaze as he squeezed her tight. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to the arch of her throat as Thriti began murmuring soft words. It felt like they were the only two people in this room as ribbons of silver light began to surround them, spinning in wide, lazy circles.
The light reflected in Rabin’s dark eyes, illuminating the slice of his cheekbone and the angle of his jaw, bouncing off the golden flecks in his pupils. She reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear before trailing a finger over his cheekbone.
She remembered during their first meeting when she’d thought he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. But that was nearly too banal a description. He was raw animal magnetism and coalescing shadows all bound together to create this storm cloud of bone and sinew that would pull her apart and put her back together over and over.
He clasped her hand in his and brought it between them as their foreheads tipped together.
Thriti continued to chant as she felt a cool touch of magic against her new marking. And then…agony. Searing, mind-numbing agony. She cried out as she tried to hold still, squeezing Rabin’s hand so hard she worried it might shatter.
But he held on, his gaze never wavering as they stared at one another, lost in an abyss as deep and endless as midnight.
Another wash of pain had her gritting her teeth as she groaned.
Rabin pressed his mouth to her fingers, his jaw hard as he fought off twin waves of pain. “You can do this, Spitfire. I’m here with you.”
She nodded as tears leaked from her eyes, sliding down her cheeks and under her chin.
“You’re so fucking strong,” he whispered as he brought his face closer, and anguish coursed over her in waves. His other hand found the back of her head. “Beautiful. Brave. Magnificent.”
Another twist of pain had her whimpering, and then, it finally eased, draining out until all that was left was a dull throb. She drew in several long, deep breaths, waiting for the worst of the pain to drain away.
“Are you okay?” she asked him.
“Are you?”
She pressed her hands to his bare, warm skin, feeling the vibration of his heart pounding in his chest. “I’m fine.”
“Take these,” Thriti said, thrusting her hand under their noses with four small pills cradled in her palm. “Two each. This should help.”
They nodded and accepted the medicine.
“Did it work?” she asked after she swallowed.
“You tell me,” Thriti answered. “Can you feel anything? You should be able to sense each other now.”
Zarya looked at Rabin again as she squeezed his hand, and then they nodded. She felt it like a second soul was living inside her. She imagined she could almost sense his feelings or thoughts like a phantom shadow.
“I feel it,” she whispered, realizing she was now truly tied to this man forever.
“Excellent,” Thriti said as she began to clean up. “It’s been a while since I’ve done a Bandhan, but I’ve still got it.”
“Thank you,” Rabin said. “How much do we owe you?”
She rattled off a number, and Rabin handed over the coins before tugging his kurta over his head. Zarya slowly worked her arm back into her sleeve and rotated her shoulder to work out some of the tension. It still hurt, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle.
They thanked Thriti and entered the narrow alleyway again, walking quietly with Zarya in front. She couldn’t help but continue looking back at him. Where she’d been drawn to him like a moth to a flame before, now it was like a lion to its prey.
She stopped and turned around as he came up to her, looking down. The paramadhar wasn’t supposed to be romantic in nature, but all she could sense was this all-consuming swell of emotion and desire building under her skin. She’d felt it before, but it was even more insistent now.
“Rabin,” she whispered, and he must have felt the same because his eyes darkened to pools of ink. He wrapped a hand around the back of her head and tipped it for a kiss. His tongue drove into her mouth, and she looped her arms around his waist as he shoved her against a wall, flattening his body to hers. She felt the angles of his solid form lining up with her softer curves, along with the fact he was already growing hard.
She moaned, wishing, wishing they were alone right now. And that her apartment wasn’t currently full of people.
But Rabin didn’t seem to care. He shuffled her into another alley, this one concealed by shadows where it finished in a dead end. When they hit the far corner, he reached down and lifted her skirt to her hips and then, with his hands under her ass, hoisted her up, pressing her against the rough brick wall.
His fingers dug into her thighs, the tips only a hair away from where she ached for his touch.
“I need to fuck you right here, Spitfire. Unless you tell me to stop.”
“No,” she gasped as he thrust his cock between her legs. “Don’t stop.”
He reached between them, pushing aside the fabric of her underwear to find her wet center, his thick finger slipping in.
“Fucking soaked already, dirty girl,” he said with a malicious grin. He pulled out and ran the tip along her seam before circling her clit. She moaned as her head fell against the wall.
His finger dipped into her again, pumping slowly, going deeper and deeper as her hips writhed against his hand. He added a second finger, stretching her with pain and pleasure.
Then he fumbled with his pants before she felt the wide head of his cock pressing into her entrance. Slowly, he inched into her, making small thrusts with his hips as she adjusted to his size, feeling like she was being split apart.
“That’s it,” he said with pride in his voice. “Take every inch. This needy pussy is mine.”
“Oh gods,” she gasped as he drove into the hilt, stroking every sensitive spot.
She clung to him tight as he thrust into her, her legs clamping around his waist. She forgot where they were. That anyone could come around the corner at any moment. The only thing that mattered was him and this coming together. This melding of their spirits.
“Zarya,” he groaned into the curve of her neck as he thrust his hips harder and harder. “Fuck, Zarya. I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you.” He thrust again, hard and with purpose, as though he were trying to imprint these words into the texture of her soul.
“Today we are bound, body and spirit, and I will do everything I can to be worthy of you.” He gripped the back of her neck, staring into her eyes as he fucked her, slow and deep. “Tell me you feel something, Zarya. Even if it’s not love yet. Just tell me you feel something more than just…this.”
She exhaled a soft breath as she felt her release rising in her core. “Yes. I feel something,” she gasped. “Of course I do.”
He smirked, but the triumphant light in his eyes betrayed the somewhat understated reaction. “Then that’s all I need right now.”
He continued pounding into her, the sounds of their bodies slapping together echoing in the narrow alley. It was reckless and probably stupid to be doing this here, but it felt like everything about their relationship was a little bit impulsive and like they were stumbling over broken glass trying to avoid a thousand cuts, but the high—the high was like plunging off a cliff and screaming into the wind.
Rabin pumped his hips again, crushing his lips to hers as she came apart, crying into his mouth as he continued thrusting. A few moments later, she felt him thicken, and then he spilled into her with a moan that rattled through every bone in her body.
When he was spent, he collapsed against her. They stood still for a minute, her legs and arms clamped tightly around his waist as they waited for their limbs to stop shaking. Then he pulled up and rubbed a thumb along her bottom lip before he reluctantly pulled away and let her slide to the ground, her skirts falling around her ankles.
He’d said it. I love you.
Clearly and plainly. It was out in the open and was yet another thing they could never return from.
The words sat in the back of her throat, perched on the edge of whatever came next.
But she wasn’t ready.
So she stepped closer and stretched onto her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his, hoping it conveyed everything she couldn’t quite say out loud yet.