chapter twenty-nine #3
When he turns, the love in his eyes is almost too much for me to bear. How can I ever reciprocate that?
He flinches, then pulls his gaze away. “You won’t have to,” he says, staring at a distant point above my head.
“I may be bound to you for the rest of my sorry eternal existence, but you are reborn. You get to choose.” He lifts his left arm, pointing to an intricate glyph on his forearm.
“This is a mating glyph,” he says. “They are unique to each mated couple.”
I lift my own arms up in front of me, only now noticing the golden glyphs decorating them, and there’s a blank space on my forearm where his is. I also notice how smooth my golden skin is. Free of the scars of my past.
“I’m a moonborn,” I say in astonishment, although I probably should have anticipated that. If he were to take my powers, I would first need to have powers to take. And from the number of glyphs covering my caramel skin, I’m a powerful one too. I smile. Seniia and Vilder will be in good company.
I turn back toward him. “What do you mean, I can choose?”
“Reāns, and especially the C’elēn, live for a lengthy time.
That means that sometimes someone will lose a mate, only for that mate to be reborn, say, a hundred years later.
For the one who’s still alive, the bond will be the same, but for the one reborn, the vows will have to be renewed by choice.
” He pauses, his gaze locked with mine. It never wavers, although the profound sorrow in his eyes tells me how much it costs him to say the next words.
“And that choice is entirely up to you.”
Do I want this? I don’t know. I want him, but lust is entirely different from love.
Staring at his full lips, the million different times he’s kissed me in my dreams play through my mind. What would it be like to kiss him for real? For him to reach for me and bring his lips to mine? Because gods do I want him to.
The thought has barely passed through my mind before he grabs ahold of me. Lifts me up.
“Fuck it,” he growls, his mouth crashing to mine in a desperate, breathless claim. “Tell me to stop.” The thought pushes into my mind.
I don’t. Instead, I wrap my legs around him and bury my fingers in his midnight-blue waves. Gods, who have you become, La?na?
A deep moan reverberates from his chest as our tongues meet, his hands getting tangled in my hair, pulling gently. Pressing my body to his, there’s no mistaking his want for me.
The taste of him, his proximity, causes a desperate need for more.
More. A hungry sigh escapes my lips as I graze my fangs down his neck, my body acting of its own accord, the sweet scent of his blood more than I can handle.
And underneath it, the smell of him. Of home.
I bite. Rich blood fills my mouth, and a low moan vibrates through my body.
The need for him is almost painful in its intensity.
I come up gasping. I’m no longer ravenously hungry, but gods do I crave him. When he pulls back, pure instinct makes me growl and reach for him.
More. I want more.
Astēr puts me down gently. “I . . . We . . . We cannot,” he pants.
At least I’m not the only one struggling to control myself.
“I should have thought of . . .” He takes a step back.
“All females need to feed on their bleed. I should have brought you to Seniia . . . It too easily gets out of hand. And not here. Not like this.”
“Seniia?” I say, breaths coming out in short, shallow gasps. “Why not Vilder?”
“Fuck no.” His growl should make me scared, but instead, it makes my toes curl.
My need for him makes it hard to string together a coherent thought. All I want is his hands on me again, but he stands firm. I breathe deep to regain my composure. My thoughts feel thick and sluggish, like wading through honey. I blink, trying to clear the haze from my mind.
What is he referring to? Then it dawns on me—what we almost did, what I almost let happen.
Horror washes over me. Have I lost all common sense?
Was I honestly a hairbreadth away from giving myself to him, a stranger, right here and now?
I scurry away from him. You still don’t really know him, La?na.
What was I thinking? And inside a sacred space nonetheless.
Wrapping his cloak around me, I keep my distance as I look around. The cave is less dim than I remember it. And his arousal. I can smell it. It makes the less sensible part of me want to climb him all over again. That’s the real danger: He leaves me with zero control over myself.
“Your senses,” he says. “The glamour blocked them, but they should come back to full strength now that you have fed. It may be a little . . . overwhelming to begin with. There is no access to elēn inside this cave, but once you get out . . .”
I reach an arm out in front of me, studying the many glyphs. There’re so many. Vilder said a moonborn never has more than twenty-seven, but even without counting, I’m quite sure I have more than that.
“You should get going,” Astēr says. “Seniia, Vilder. You have to release them. If something happens and they move while you are still here, Zerex will show no mercy. I am positive he relied on me stopping you when he agreed to let you in, but now . . . As long as your contract holds, he is bound. He cannot break that.”
“You’re not coming?”
He shakes his head. “You have to leave alone.”
I should be relieved, but I’m not. A large part of me wants him close. Too close. And that’s why you should stay far away from him, a small voice whispers.
Letting his cloak drop to my feet, I step back into the dark tunnel. Casting one last glance over my shoulder, I see him kneeling on the cave floor. Eyes closed, his voice is barely audible as he whispers, “Dear Mah, I hope you know what you have done.”