“How are we going to find the mortal?” Seth asks. “I’m happy to go looking, but where?”
“I like the idea of knowing where the mortal mages are. Their support is useless if we can’t call on them. I’ll find the mages – and send them to Eydis’ – Leon knows the way once I get a message to him,” Pax says, distaste dripping from the words.
“And I’ll find Tan and send him to the Spring,” I volunteer. “But for now I wouldn’t mind checking that bubble again. Just to be sure it’s gone, and that we have more room here.”
“It’s gone. I can feel the difference,” Kitten argues, and gets nothing but dominant looks from each of us.
Seth leans forwards, pressing a kiss just in front of her ear. “Can you stand here for a moment, Vexy?”
“Yes, Sethy, I’m hurting, not broken.”
Killian grunts in agreement.
Thane growls with a deep tone that clearly disagrees.
I cut in. “You were very broken, Kitten.”
She moves out of Seth’s arms. “See, fine. Now go.”
We move out in all directions. The vines unfurl from my path as I push towards the original circumference of her bubble. The space we tested way back when we were in the forest behind the White Castle’s stables. Seth climbs up and over the vines. Killian starts hacking them to pieces, and Pax makes his way with a combination of climbing through, over, under, and around. When I can barely see her in the distance, I stop and pull time to get back to her side.
“No bubble,” she says, her smile reaching every part of her expression. The twinkle in her gray eyes, the lift of her cheeks, the little creases, all of it.
“No bubble,” I repeat, cupping her cheeks and stepping in close so I can pull her face to mine and taste the sweet honey of her lips. They heat under mine, warming like a mirror to my power. Like they were made for me.
And for some indefinable reason her soul feels like pure Allure.
Not always Allure, but turning Allure just for me. Each and every sensation that floods into me screams of our connection, of our perfectness.
I nudge my nose against hers, trying to draw back, trying not to fall into this.
This.
Us.
Our lips part, and her soul brushes against mine.
Alive and full and pure. I don’t even know who is breathing for who anymore. Everything in me is moving in time with her, in the same rhythm. To the same beat.
Harmony.
We linger, our lips resting together, until, in the background, Pax clears his throat.
Before I can obey, she pushes up onto her tippy toes.
“Not yet,” she whispers, pressing her lips to mine.
I meet her kiss, delicate and passionate and just brushing the surface of my desires. My fingers hook in her shirt, slip under to skim her skin, then hesitate on the edge of her braies.
“Kitten,” I moan, breaking the contact – if I don’t walk away now, I’m going to have a very uncomfortable ride.
“Mmmm.”
I wait for her bright eyes to open and meet mine before continuing, “No matter where Pax takes you, don’t do anything stupid.”
“Okay,” she says, leaning in to rest her weight against me with her head on my shoulder.
“And vow you’ll come back to me,” I whisper, the words both desperate to come out and fearful of not being echoed. She nods a little, comfortable against me. Maybe that’s for the best; looking at her expression would make this harder. “Because I vow to you I’m yours, and no matter what happens, I’ll find you.”
She looks up, a depth of sincerity in her eyes as she says, “Always, Roarke. If you need a vow, blood oath, attestation, or alsatian, or anything, always.”
I snort at her. “Alsatian is a dog.”
“I know.”
Of course, she knows. She’s playing with me, using words and knowledge and threading them right through my already doomed soul. Oh, Kitten, you’d better come back to me – I need you.
Pax nudges Killian in our direction, and I get the hint. My time’s up.
One last moment with her honey scent. One last slip of silk as my power prods her body like a sad puppy wishing it could erase the past. An alsation, which I now have the urge to source and acquire.
She meets my gaze, a swirl of gray that for just one second tricks me into thinking it’s silver. She blinks – the glimpse of silver gone – reaches up on her tip-toes and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
Please don’t let this be our last.
I step into Roarke’s place, standing before Shadow.
Darkness – that’s all I’ve ever known. I’m good at being the dark, being the shadows, being the depths of other people’s emotions.
I’m not good at this small light in front of me. My light, I know.
My love.
My woman.
Cool air rises from her, teasing at my Shadows as it dances along my skin and leaves tiny droplets of moisture in its wake. My insides shudder, but I lock that down. My needs and wants come after hers. Her body is struggling to heal in a tangle of power with a Saber soul that wasn’t there before.
And… something more. Another thread that wasn’t there before struggles to rise into existence. I fix on it and almost miss another sinking into my chest. My own heart thread shimmers in response. Both of us willing to exist in the Darkness for the other.
So close. So perfect.
But she’s not strong enough. Not yet.
Not for this.
I pull my threads in sharply – making pain stab, then radiate, then throb.
Not for me.
She almost bonded with Roarke when they sang around the campfire. Both threads tried to meet in the middle, tried to fuse, tried to bind. Searching for harmony. I only just managed to stop them, but that was when she was nothing more than a vulnerable mortal.
Roarke’s guard is up,
