Chapter 29 Ice Vine #2
Tremors seize my limbs, fangs bite into my own tongue to keep from sinking into her flesh. My spine contorts like a broken accordion.
“There’s a piece of me—so deep down—that dreams of tearing down this whole world to get to you... And I will lose to it.”
My pupils dilate as I track her every breath. She blinks once, slowly. Then folds her arms across her chest.
I scent no fear, no softness. Just that thrahking silence again.
Every part of the bond is screaming.
To mark her.
To drag her into the deepest part of the forest.
To press her into the snow until she remembers what it means to be mine.
“Say something,” I beg. “Anything, Sael?n.”
She doesn’t.
My spine arches, a quake slices down my back as the shift climbs higher, burning white-hot behind my chest.
My antlers start to fracture and reshape, bones straining toward the ceiling. I catch the flicker in her eyes—the moment she registers what’s happening.
I roar, and the forest answers.
Snow explodes upward in a ring. Trees snap. Hundreds of skelvyn scatter like ash across the sky. (Ghostlike ravens.)
I stagger toward her, breath heaving. “I’m trying to control you?” I growl. “I’m losing control because of you. Nai’thel?n ves kai, etra’kael veskae.” (I am not your cage. I am the god-marked result.)
She backs up a step. I follow.
“You think you’re the only one who’s ever lost something, Lumi?” I gesture to my chest, my pulse visible through the skin. “I have never had anything to lose. Not once. Until I met you.”
“I’ve had thousands of years of nothingness—but the second you walked into these woods, I had everything to lose. Thrav’el?n kai veyr, etra’saev ves tharavin.” (If you run, I will burn the snow itself to find you.)
She opens her mouth, but I’m not done.
“If you knew what I wanted...” I whisper, reaching to tuck a long strand of her hair behind her ear.
“...you’d run. Not because you felt caged—
But because of what it would mean to let me have you the way I ache to.”
She swallows hard.
“I would ruin you so gently the gods would write psalms about it.”
She tries to shove past me, but the second her arm brushes my chest, the bond detonates. Lightning floods every nerve.
I feel her hatred.
I feel her need.
Her head tips forward, and she reaches for me.
“Don’t,” I say, barely holding the line, but of course she doesn’t listen.
Her fingers graze slowly up my ribs. My vision turns red... that’s never happened before.
The beast howls.
I grab the frame above her, wood splinters beneath my grip.
“Keep pushing me away, Sael?n,” I hiss. “And one of us is going to break. And it won’t be me.”
Her breath stutters. Her pupils flare. But she still won’t meet my eyes.
She knows if she does, she won’t leave. Not that I’m going to let her anyway.
Her fingers fall from my chest... and drag across the top of my thighs on the way down—my pulse throbs.
She hasn’t realized that the brattier she acts, the more I want to prove how easily she’d submit to me.
I let her step past me.
“You want to leave still?” My voice scrapes the edge of something feral.
“Go ahead.”
She hesitates.
A broken laugh slips from me.
“That’s what I thought.”
She lifts her chin and meets my gaze. Velorin ael’veskai thar?l. (Even your defiance is sacred to me.)
“You don’t think I will? You don’t own me, Andrik.”
“No,” I breathe, stepping closer. “But the bond does. It owns me, too. It longs to devour us both.”
She stiffens. That little chin tips higher.
“But I won’t...” I growl. “Not until you beg.”
“Not until you say it in Vraks?n—on your knees—and mean every word.”
Her breath stutters. Her thighs shift.
I scent her arousal immediately.
She may not be listening... but her body is.
She pretends to be unbothered and pushes past me again.
I’m already in front of her before she reaches the door.
“You’re not immune to me,” I murmur. “Thrae’virai ves l?r, sael?n.” (Your hunger betrays you, soulbond.)
She rolls her eyes.
I step forward, she backs up. Again and again until her back hits the wall with a soft thud.
I lean in, one hand braced over her head, the other curling beside her waist.
“I can smell it on you,” I whisper. “How badly you want me. How badly you want to stay. Veskae narh ves vaeliss?n?” (You think I don’t feel it when you get wet for me?)
Her lips part, but no sound comes out.
“Let me show you just how un-caged you truly are, Thal’kisha,” I breathe against her neck. “Let’s see which one of us is begging to stay after this.”
A flick of my wrist, and ice rises like a vine from the floor, curling into a dagger that rests against her thigh. It hums with power against her warm skin.
Her breath hitches.
“Tell me you want to leave, Sael?n. Kaelorin ves kaemorin l?rth.” (You’re already mine. Even when you lie to yourself.)
She doesn't say anything. Her chest is rising and falling so fast it looks painful. The ice slices through the fabric. She’s rolling her body into mine before her pants even hit the ground. Her nails bite into my chest.
I bare my fangs, watching her tiny pulse jump beneath her skin. I curl the ice vine higher, a second tendril rises to caress her like a frozen whisper. Tracing her skin inch by inch.
“You wanted to be free, didn’t you?” I murmur against her neck, voice a low snarl. “You wanted to run away?”
She shudders.
“Then go, Lumi.” I release her entirely and step back. The ice flickers, tip still grazing her, right where she’s the softest.
“Leave,” I whisper. “But if you stay—” My eyes lock on hers, soft and savage all at once. “L?ven ael’mor?n.” (Stay, and let me unmake you slowly.)
She stumbles back, breath heaving. She slaps the ice aside and shoves past me.
“Go on then. Prove you don’t need me. Walk away while your thighs are slick, and your knees are trembling for me.”
She makes it to the hallway, each step stuttering, leaving heat in her wake.