The tension in her face eased a fraction even as the rest of her body demanded the same thing I desired.
“Faylinn,” I whispered huskily, my voice tinged both with lust and disuse. “Faylinn, wake up.”
My words did nothing to rouse her from sleep. Instead, she pulled my body further into hers so we were completely flush once more. Faylinn’s head fit perfectly under my chin, and I rested there, closing my eyes to breathe in the smell of her.
With a sigh that conveyed both my comfort and confusion, I wrapped one arm around Faylinn’s waist, anchoring her to me, as the other hand cupped the back of her head. My fingertips found her scalp at the base of her spine, and I rubbed small circles into her skull.
If her response to whatever happened was the same as mine, then there was no doubt that her head was pounding the rhythm of a bass drum.
Slowly, incrementally, her body began to relax, her muscles liquefying and fingers twitching as she fell back into a deeper sleep. As my arm moved, I caught a quick glimpse of a tattoo dominating my forearm. It was black, like all other rune tattoos, but had an iridescent shimmer to it similar to the gold I’d seen in the string that connected Faylinn and me. A quick glance at her arm showed a matching mark. The shape was similar to the Bonding Rune that tied me to Gisei, though I quickly noted that mark was now grey and mottled, the ink fading into my skin with each passing minute.
What did you do, Faylinn?I mused, both disappointed and elated that she’d Bonded us together.
Faylinn clearly felt the myriad of my emotions because she fidgeted in her sleep, brows drawn over her eyes.
“Sleep, my love. I will be here.” I let the truth of my feelings for her echo for a moment as I simply relished in the feeling of finally—fuckingfinally—having the fiery, intelligent Rune Master in my arms. That relief, however, was short-lived when the reality of the situation crept into my thoughts.
We were Bonded.
How, I was uncertain. It shouldn’t have been possible—Faylinn had no magic, and I needed a particularly strong Destruction Vessel to keep the rapidly progressing Mage Sickness at bay. Though now that I actively thought about my condition, none of the previously aggressive symptoms were present. Yes, I still had a wicked headache and felt overly exhausted, but I assumed those were remnants of Bonding Faylinn and healing from the egregious wounds that should have claimed my life.
Did she Bond me to save me from death?
Faylinn knew how I felt about Forced Bonding; we’d had numerous arguments in the past due to some of her decisions, and yet, she chose to Bond me anyway without my knowledge or consent.
As frustrated as I wanted to be with her, I couldn’t muster the ire. There was no frustration, no righteous anger, just a sense of complete rightness, which scared me more than the fact that we were Bonded.
She’s not for you. Perhaps these were simply the actions of a friend desperate to save another . . . perhaps she will want to lead her own life—separate and away from me.
My heart sank at the thought. As much as I desired this, desiredus, Faylinn had some explaining to do, and I wouldn’t let myself give in to what I wanted without both that explanation and her complete consent and understanding.
Body, mind, and soul, Faylinn owned me completely.
Once I had her, once I lay with her, there was no going back. She would be mine just as thoroughly as I was hers.
The Bond pulsed in agreement, comforted by my feelings for Faylinn. I closed my eyes, relishing in the press of her body against mine, the beat of her heart in perfect cadence with my own as if we were one being, one entity.
I found solace in her all-consuming warmth, the steady thrum of the Bond pulling me under to the place where my dreams and desires lived.
Chapter Seventeen
Faylinn
The cadence of heavy steps trying to be light as they tapped over stone floors roused me from the hazy point between wakefulness and sleep. A muffled curse bounced around the space, and a small smile of amusement pulled at the corners of my lips as the speaker tried to silence themselves once again.
I bled back into unconsciousness, the warmth of the silk sheets doused in the heady aroma of smoke and leather rasped against my naked skin, cocooning me in safety, before I was rudely awakened again, but this time from the pain that lanced through my mind.
Gasping, I sat bolt upright in bed, clutching my forehead in my hands as they came to rest against my propped knees.
Holy gods above, why does it hurt like that?
Hot-white agony and sorrow like I’d never known invaded every sense until I felt like I’d be consumed completely. Numbly, I tried to separate myself from the pain, to assess my body and mind for injury, but there were none.
The pain was not my own.
That thought should not have alarmed me as much as it did; I would rather this agony belong to me than whoever was suffering so silently.
A pitiful whimper escaped my tightly pressed lips, and I vaguely registered the sound of heavy footsteps as they approached the bed.
