When he lifts me, my breath catches. My arms wind around his neck on instinct, curls brushing his jaw, my pendant glowing faintly between us. He carries me with a certainty that shakes something loose inside my chest—something hopeful, and dangerous.
He sets me at the edge of the tub. Steam rises in soft coils. Candlelight glows against the water, petals drifting like tiny spells waiting for touch. I whisper, “Slade… what is all this?”
His gaze drags over me, slow and warm. “Something you deserve.”
The words settle under my ribs like heat blooming. I reach out—fingers trembling despite myself—and brush them against his cheek. His breath stutters almost imperceptibly. “Show me,” I murmur.
He takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing the center of my palm with devastating gentleness.
Then he helps me undress—not rushed, not hesitant. Just deliberate. Learning. Mapping.Worshipping every inch of skin revealed under candlelight.
When he lowers me into the bath, the water wraps around me like silk. The enchanted salts melt into my tense muscles, releasing a sigh I didn’t realize I’d been holding for days.
Slade kneels beside the tub and rolls his sleeves to his forearms. It shouldn’t be erotic, but gods—it is. His power hums, the room thickening with warmth and something darker, possessive but held carefully under the surface.
He dips his hand into the water and pours it over my shoulder. The heat trails down my collarbone. I shiver.
“Relax,” he murmurs, thumb brushing the hollow beneath my throat. “You don’t have to be anything here. Not brave. Not ready. Just you.”
My voice wavers. “I didn’t know I could feel this calm.”
His fingers trace the line of my jaw. “You’re safe.”
The bond stirs beneath my skin—not violently, but like a heartbeat searching for another. The water ripples. The candles sway closer. Even my magic softens, reaching toward him.
I exhale shakily. “Slade… what is happening?”
He cups my cheek, leaning close enough that his breath warms my lips.
“We are.”
I drag him into a kiss—not careful, not shy. A kiss that answers a question I never let myself ask. His hand slides into my hair, tilting my head, deepening the contact until the world dissolves around the heat of his mouth.
The bond surges—heat rushing across my skin, the air crackling, the ornaments chiming a soft, high note like bells in winter wind. He pulls back only far enough to breathe, his forehead against mine, lips brushing as he speaks. “If we take this further,” he whispers, voice thick with strain, “the bond will snap further into place.”
My heartbeat thrums like a drum beneath my ribs. “Then why stop?” I ask.
His eyes darken—not with refusal, but desire held painfully tight. “Because I don’t want the bond to choose for you.”
Something inside me softens—aching, warm, terrified. “Slade,” I whisper, “I’m not running from you.”
His breath shudders, and he kisses me again—deeper, slower, a promise pressed to my mouth.
Water sloshes softly as he braces a hand beside me, the other sliding along my jaw. My fingers move into his hair. His thumb grazes the swell of my breast beneath the water. A gasp slips from me, swallowed into his mouth.
The bond flares hot. Magic curls around his wrists like ribbon. He breaks the kiss with effort—real effort—breathing unevenly.
“Piper,” he rasps, “I want you. Gods, I want you. But not because the cursepushes or the bond demands. I want your yes when you’re clear. When you’re steady. When you’re choosing me, not a destiny handed to you.”
My chest tightens, full and aching. “I’m not choosing destiny,” I whisper. “I’m choosingyou.”
Something raw flickers in his eyes. Hope. Hunger. Devotion. He leans in, brushing his lips to mine once more—soft, reverent, almost breaking. “Then I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs.
And he stays—kneeling by the tub, kissing me slow, steady, worshipful—until the water cools and my skin hums with warmth that has nothing to do with magic.
Until there is no doubt left in me… I am falling. And the bond isn’t the thing pulling me over the edge.
Sladeis.
