CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
EMMERY
In addition to the one Dez had created, there were four bonds.
After Emmery confessed how she’d discovered their incompatibility for an implexus bond, he offered a sad smile and kissed the tip of her nose.
He explained from his knowledge, they likely would have known long ago anyway, and that it didn’t hinder his affections.
She refused to think of her bond with Shade. Refused to let it ruin their night.
With the treae, or allegiance bond, they ran into a few problems. Between the required witness and Dez’s demand to not, under any circumstances, share her tonight, especially as time ticked down until sunrise, they decided to delay it.
Since it was unheard of for Kings to take an allegiance bond, they would have to seek the Council’s approval.
Though Emmery told him they could simply forgo it, Dez assured that, for her, he would do anything.
However, for the other bonds, they both didn’t want to wait.
“The strength bond, or sterke, will allow us to pool magic as a reservoir,” he said. “Most dab a drop of blood on their tongue and agree on a phrase. Then you simply choose a spot for the bond and draw it in blood.”
She fiddled with his fingers cradled in her lap. “I want it over my scar. Over my heart.” Since he’d been her strength all this time, it seemed fitting.
For a brief second, his eyes unfocussed, but he quickly blinked it away. He released a heavy breath and a bit of his sunlight clouded over.
Her chest twinged with worry. “You’re not changing your mind, are you? Is this too fast? Should we—”
“Of course not.” He stood and tugged her up with him, then met her gaze with such unwavering affection the twinge faded. “You don’t know how badly I want this. There’s nothing I want more than you, Em. Just the idea of anyone harming you is unbearable.”
“You needn't worry. I can take care of myself.” Her eyes wandered to his damp shirt clinging to his sculpted shoulders, and she grinned. Not wanting to fuss with his buttons, she ordered, “Now, arms up.”
“Bossy,” he teased. A sinful smile claimed his mouth as she struggled to lift it over his head. When she glimpsed his scars, she lost her breath.
With his two magics, she shouldn’t have been surprised, but Dez wasn’t Hollow or Fallen. Because he was both. The same as her.
A Shadowheart writhed in the center of his chest like it stretched for hers.
Something indescribable and alluring drew her finger, and she traced each circle on his cavae.
Dez’s breath hitched, and he trembled as the thorns wrestled beneath his skin.
Gently, he circled her wrist and brought it to his mouth.
He grazed his teeth along her palm before he pressed a kiss there.
“If you do that, we won’t make it any further,” he said. “It’s taking all my self-restraint not to strip you down right now.”
She peered up at him, a sly smirk on her lips. “What’s stopping you?”
“You, my darling angel”—his fingers found the first button—“are a devious woman.”
She giggled and drew her dagger from the sheath at her thigh.
“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.
I’m perfectly innocent. Practically a saint.
” She emphasized each word with a twirl of the blade, while he worked her buttons.
When he finished with the last, he skimmed his fingers down the exposed strip of skin, savouring every inch until he reached the band of fabric around her breasts.
His eyes blazed like the epitome of night as he tugged it off.
He kissed her cheek, her neck, trailed down to her collarbone, and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only sink into him, his warmth, and his air.
“You can be a saint for everyone else,” he whispered with promise, “but I want all those wicked parts of you. Give them all to me.” He took the dagger from her and nodded at the chalices.
“Do you want to use those? Most do for this and the votai, but—” His gaze devoured her as he nicked his thumb.
“You can put your mouth anywhere on me. In fact, I highly encourage it.”
She giggled again and reached for his hand.
As she licked the blood off his thumb, pleasure shot through her with such ferocity she had to brace herself against him.
The fresh new potency of magic inside his blood was cold and spicy, yet somehow also sweet.
“Does this happen for everyone?” she asked, her voice trembling. “It’s a non-intimate bond, right?”
“It could be because we’re sharing right from the vein, which is why most use the chalices.” He frowned. “But it has to be our blood. For most a single drop, even a mouthful, isn’t enough to elicit a reaction.” He took her hand, the blade in his other. “May I?”
She nodded eagerly and kept nodding as if he’d stolen her every brain cell as he nicked her thumb and drew it into his mouth. Dez kept his eyes on hers, and gods, that was—
Intense. Not just from the tingle in her veins, but the desire pooled between her thighs that grew by the second.
Only when he released her, did she suck in a jagged breath.
His thumb swept over his chest to replicate the position of her scar, then painted hers in crimson, too and layered her blood atop his.
He wrapped her in his arms, their bodies flush, and his indecent arousal hard against her stomach.
It took everything in her not to tear off his trousers and sink to her knees.
The thorns writhed beneath his skin, threatening to break through.
“We need a phrase, right?” she said, her voice brittle. “You pick.”
Dez watched her, his head tilted, all their plans after they completed the three bonds written across his face. “Setta vi eres mi poina, enna va fentama.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed as she savoured his voice. “Say it again.”
That spurred a breathy laugh, but he repeated it, lower this time. “It means ‘be my pillar, and I will be your foundation’.” He kissed the thin skin beneath her ear. “Is it satisfactory?”
“It’s perfect.” After she repeated the phrase in her dreadful accent that lacked Dez’s grace, her chest began to tingle. The blood sank into his skin, as it did hers, and wove a tangle of roses.
No, not roses.
Noxcore.
The flowers wove around his scars, as they did hers, like they could erase the hurt and heartache of the past. Instantly, the dam restraining his power burst, and his magic flooded her, raging and tumultuous, and gluttonous.
The air knocked from her lungs, and she blinked up at him in disbelief.
She’d seen his power in the Sacred Lands, but this was bewildering.
As her power filled him too, he leaned on her, his breaths ragged.
“I knew you were strong, Em, but you’re truly incredible.
” A smug grin claimed her lips and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
“For the votai I was thinking—” He sat on the bench and pulled her into his lap, her knees on either side of him.
“I was thinking of something more intimate.”
“Mmm, how considerate of you.” His erection strained against his trousers and pressed into the soft, aching spot between her thighs. She wiggled her hips and pulled a deep rumbling groan from his throat. Twiddling the blade between her fingers, she gave him a coy smile.
“More blood needs to be exchanged for this bond,” he said. “The votai will mix the colours of our vestiges once we have our ceremony, but right now it will look like any other scar.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Where would you like it? I don’t care as long as it matches yours.”
She sliced a shallow cut on her wrist. “Next to our other bond. On my palm.” She took his thumb and layered his blood atop hers.
Dez nicked a small cut on the side of his neck, tossed the dagger aside, and seized her wrist. He lapped up her blood and hummed in satisfaction. Then he mumbled another series of foreign words into her skin.
“Translation, Dez,” she whispered and leaned in.
He groaned against her hand. “‘I give my blood, body, and soul.’”
Poetic as always. Emmery sucked on his neck, her fingers threaded into his hair, and his hands bracketed her hips to hold her back as the thorns tore through his skin.
He hissed under his breath, and his eyes squeezed shut in pain, but they sank into each other.
Lost themselves. She fought her insatiable hunger to be closer, to touch and meet everywhere, but he kept her away from the thorns, though the space was excruciating. A special brand of torture.
She whispered the words into his neck and her palm tingled like the brush of a million fluttering wings. The blood sank in as their bond formed.
Her lips left a constellation of kisses as she trailed to his jaw, his face, his cheeks, his nose, anywhere she could reach.
Dez released her hand and captured her lips. The kiss was ravenous, desperate, and she quickly lost control, her every muscle coiled as her blood rushed and the wet space between her legs throbbed.
“Molh havan za vania. Una brelle aspretto. Senta el mio,” she breathed into him. “I’m yours, Dez. Always.”
Their bond sealed. The sunlight inside her consumed her entirely, and she lit up like a star, burning for him. It was like seeing the sun for the first time, a glimmer of light heightened to a blinding blaze as she overfilled. As if she’d always been a half vying to be whole.
“Now that you’ve made an honest man out of me”—Dez caught her hand and held it against his cheek—“should I carry you to my bed? Or should I take you right here, Emmery?”
“Here. Please,” she whispered, not wanting to wait a second more. Needing him now. Craving him.