“I don’t mind yours either, even when you’re growling at me like you might rip my throat out.”
I laugh, and he thrusts into me harder, threading his fingers into mine and lifting my hand above my head. The stretch opens up my chest, allows me to feel every inch of him against every inch of me.
“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he mumbles into my hair.
I press my forehead to his. “We’re bound, Damien. The only way we move forward is together.”
He increases his pace, pounding into me harder and faster until I wonder if the entire village can hear us. And when the cascade of white light sends my eyes closed and head back, he goes with me, emptying himself as he releases a series of shaky breaths.
Afterward, he walks me to the bed and lays us down, holding me to him. The fire crackles, and sleep teases me closer in the warmth of his embrace.
“Did you mean what you said about moving forward together?” he asks softly against my temple.
“Yes. Why?”
“Because I’m going with you into the Darklands, Eloise. When you descend, I’m going too.”
39
The Descent
DAMIEN
“You don’t have to do this,” Eloise says for the fortieth time. We’re back at Catarina’s, and she’s preparing the spell. We’ve been over this time and time again since I first brought up going with her. She can’t tell me no. To do so would be hypocritical. Why should I, as her mate, allow her to die but not be allowed to die with her?
“It makes the most sense. If we fail, we will be together in the afterlife. Plus, if this works the way you’re expecting and you must master a series of challenges posed by Thanesia, maybe I can help. It is said the goddess has a soft spot for warriors and mates. My being there could work to your advantage.”
Catarina returns with an enormous brass bowl filled with something that looks like mud. Eloise sighs. “Catarina, isn’t it better if Damien stays on this plane so that I can follow the bond between us to the land of the living?”
Catarina lifts her chin and sends us both a pronounced frown. “Whatever gave you that idea? In theory, I suppose it could help under certain circumstances, but in this case, you are hoping to convince the goddess to allow your ancestors through the door. You are descending on a magical tether I’m going to put in place. You will follow that back to the land of the living. As long as you are light of heart, the ascent will not be difficult at all. There is no need for him to stay.”
Eloise shifts. “But isn’t it more difficult for you to descend two individuals instead of one?”
She waves a hand. “Negligible. The two of you will do most of the work.”
The dismissal makes Eloise roll her eyes. She’s out of excuses. We do this together or not at all. I shoot her a wicked smile, sharpened on the grit of her own making.
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you love me for it.”
“There is one thing,” Catarina says. “Today you descend into the land of the dead. This journey is no common task. I sense the bond between you is strong, but there’s a way to make it stronger. I could marry you now, before you descend.”
Eloise’s mouth gapes, but I find the idea intriguing. I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of it. After all, during her trials in Night Haven, I promised to make her my wife. Our mating, to me, is a far more important thing. But in her human world, marriage is paramount.
I take her hand. “Will you marry me, Eloise? It wouldn’t be the wedding I promised you—that will have to wait until another time—but I swore if you came to Stygarde with me, I would make you my princess. While I can’t offer you a crown, New Stygarde is a false kingdom. My mother is the rightful queen, and I am a rightful prince. Marry me. Let me fulfill this promise to you before we…” Die. I don’t finish the sentence. It seems like bad luck to say it aloud given the circumstances.
Eloise’s eyebrows climb toward her hairline. “Yes!” she finally says, sounding breathless as if she’s just found her voice. “I will marry you. I don’t care if it’s in a church or if there’s a crown involved. I want this.”
Catarina smiles. “So mote it be. Please join hands.”
I take Eloise’s hand, so much smaller than my own, and sense the rightness of the fit of it inside of mine. Catarina pulls a red silk ribbon from her pocket, wraps it around my wrist and then around Eloise’s. It’s a figure eight, an infinity symbol. She ties it with a bow.
“As your hands are bound together, so too are your lives bound. Each of you flows into the other, no beginning, no end. Bound by love. Two bodies, two souls, now one from this day forth.”
A tear escapes Eloise’s eye, and my throat goes tight with emotion. This was not the ceremony I wanted for her. That one will have to wait. But there is something special about this, about a private binding, about knowing it is complete before we walk the road.
“It is done. You are husband and wife.” I lean forward and kiss her, until Catarina clears her throat and pulls the ribbon from our wrists. She spreads her hands toward the two pallets on either side of her. “It is time. Please.”
