Chapter 48
MARCUS
Iwake at dusk to the sounds of birds going to bed and Leah’s steady breaths.
My mate is asleep, tucked into a ball, her head resting on my chest. Her dark hair spills over my skin, so warm and silky.
Her hand is clenched around a piece of paper.
I tug it gently from her fingers and read the note I wrote.
Wonder fills me at her presence and at the spill of magic that swirls in the air. She glows, my mate. Somehow, she lives, and her magic is a glorious canopy above us. It drifts—not active, just there.
Her lashes flutter.
I turn, desperate hope clogging my throat as I take in the shadows under her eyes and the bruising around her neck. Our faces are inches apart. Her magic brushes my skin. It seems to be tasting me, and I’m not sure what it will find. I half expect it to rip me apart.
She must hate me after all this.
“Leah,” I whisper. “What have you done?”
I should not be alive.
Her eyes narrow. “I’m so mad at you,” she chokes. She shoves at my chest before her fingers curl and she buries her face in my neck. I clasp her to me as she shakes. “How could you do that?”
She still hates me. It’s what I expected, and yet more terrible than I anticipated.
“I’m so sorry,” I rasp. Centuries of guilt pin me to the mattress.
“I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know. If I had known, I would never have come near you.
I swear it. He killed so many, and all I hoped was that I might yet save him. ”
“No.” Another shove before her tear-filled eyes find mine. “You fool. You sacrificed yourself for me. How dare you?” She bares her tiny, blunt teeth, and hope rises with dizzying swiftness.
“You forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you.” She scowls. “I ate one of those Adam’s apples for you.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Why?” I search her face for answers.
Her mouth trembles. “I wanted a full life, Marcus. I wanted the life my parents died to give me. I had it with you. For a week. I want it forever.”
The heaviness in my chest bursts. “Oh, Leah.” I brush my thumb over her cheekbone.
She looks mad and sad and stubborn, the confusing and delightful mix of emotions that is all mortal, all her.
My love for her fills the space between my organs.
“Of course this is what they wanted for you. You deserve so much more than what you’ve let yourself have. ”
Her smile is fierce and trembling. “I wasn’t sure the apple would work.”
“I thought they—”
“Grant your heart’s desire, only if your desire is pure.”
I clutch her closer, feeling like I’m too big for my skin, like I might burst. “Am I your heart’s desire, mate?”
Her cheeks go pink. “Regrettably, yes. You are. Don’t ever kill yourself again.”
I chuckle, feeling smug as I graze her cheek with mine. “I don’t think I’ll need to, little one. You’re immortal now.”
She goes still. “I am?”
“Feel it?” I can’t keep the pride from my voice. “Look inside yourself.”
She sucks in a breath. I know what she’s seeing. A mate bond that shimmers with a thousand threads, binding us together. It’s every color of the rainbow and it has the strength of steel.
“No power imbalance between us,” I tell her huskily. “Not eighty years. We could have eighty thousand.”
She makes a happy sound before she says, “Not sure I want eighty thousand. I’ll probably get tired of you.”
I growl and surge over her. She’s laughing under me, her magic spiraling upward. It’s then that I catch sight of her wings.
“Leah.”
“What, vampire?”
She’s grinning at me, her dark eyes sparkling, her mouth curved with joy. Joy that I put there. I kiss her.
“Wings,” I rasp. “Real ones.”
“All the dying has gone to your head,” she whispers.
I chuckle but run one finger down the downy softness of one graceful feather.
She gasps, then turns her head. “I felt that. Oh my god.” Her shocked gaze meets mine. “Wings,” she whispers.
I laugh and kiss her again. Her arms twine around my neck. Her hips arch to meet mine.
We shed the remnants of our clothing in a blur. I hold Leah’s luminous gaze as I push into her. She doesn’t shut her eyes. I don’t shut mine. I watch every expression cross her face—awe, hunger, and something more.
“I love you,” I tell her.
“I love you.” She smiles before she arches under me. “I love you, Marcus, but if you don’t start moving, I swear—”
I chuckle and make love to my mate on a bed made of wings.
THE END