Shocked, I stare at him, blinking back and forth between his eyes while gasping for air, searching for an explanation.
He grants it to me with a startling answer that feeds the fear as well as the pulsing anticipation. “We have a ritual to finish.”
“What do you mean?” I squeal when he releases my mouth and reaches for something on the other cot.
When I see what it is, I start shaking my head.
Fixing his eyes on mine, Ulf holds a knife between us. I flicker my gaze between the sharp blade and his severe stare, my breath hitching with each staggered attempt to fill my lungs.
A whole minute passes in the deadly intensity of the moment before Ulf says, “You must shed your blood on the stone.”
“What?” I gasp, a crazed sort of distress creeping around the edges of my brain.
“To join the clan, you must shed your blood on the old stone on the summit.”
I jerk against his grip on my hands, the distress threatening to drown out the desire. “No, stop. Just… pause. It’s too much.”
Ulf withdraws the knife from my view, and the feral intensity draws back, leaving a stark earnestness. “Do you trust me, Elina?” When I don’t respond immediately, he continues, “I’ve been holding the strings to your desire for six months. I’m the one who decided each new step. You thought Asbjörn was the one who knew you better than you knew yourself, but the truth is, I was the one who knew exactly when you were ready for the cane, anal play, and when to pull the plug. I know all your reactions—how you scream with the full force of your lungs when the pain makes you come alive, and I know how those same cries thin when you’ve had enough. I know how your hips dance when you crave more, and I know how your legs shiver when your body tries to tell you that you actually can’t take any more. And I’ve seen fear mingle with desire in your eyes when you saw this knife for the first time. Tell me you don’t want to taste it on your skin—tell me that you don’t want to bear my mark.”
I go quiet while he speaks, my breath calming, my pulse slowing. Because even though his words are fuel to my fear, they also resonate in an instinctive place deep inside me.
“Do you trust me?” he asks again.
I gulp, but nod, nonetheless. Part of me rages at my response. But that’s the part that reminds me how few words I’ve exchanged with this man and how deeply at his mercy I am up here on the mountain. Another part reminds me that he’s been there all along, observing me and calling the shots from the sidelines. I never realized it before, but suddenly it’s bright and clear. He was the driving force behind everything that happened.
I remember the pivotal realization that struck when I sank into the dirt at his feet last night:I was always supposed to be his.
But my fearful brain still rebels against the answer I want to give, so I ask another question to seek confirmation. “When did you know?”
The intensity of his expression softens somewhat, lending reassurance to my nervous brain. “Know what?”
“That you wanted me.”
A smile glimmers in his eyes. “From the very first moment I laid eyes upon you.”
“How?”
“How?” he parrots and glances off to the side while considering. When he looks at me again, the darkness is gone, serious sincerity remaining. “There’s no rational explanation—just like there isn’t with most things that truly matter. Why does the sun shine, why is this mountain here, why are we part of this earth? Why is this invisible bond between us so strong? I can’t explain it. All I know is the way you surrendered to me. You didn’t shy away when I held your gaze even though you tried—you couldn’t. You were drawn to me, the same way I was drawn to you. By an invisible bond that beckoned you to succumb and demanded thatItake control.”
My breaths shudder, emotion welling up. Because his every word resonates deep in my bones. I can’t explain it either. All I know is that I belong here with this strong, terrifying, magnificent man who I don’t know through words and reason, but through quiet glances, fleeting touches, and wordless interactions.
That’s why I finally reply, “Yes, I do trust you.”
“I know,” Ulf says.
“Then why…”
“Because I needed you to know too.”
I draw a long, shuddery breath. A well of emotion rolls up through me, tightening my throat and shaking in my breaths. Tears pool in my eyes, and one spills over. I don’t know why. I think it’s the sheer intensity of the moment.
Stark vulnerability softens my voice when I say, “Can I please have a hug?” Ineedone. I need Ulf to stabilize the flood of emotion he has awakened—the trust that trumps the fear, the desire that overcomes the pain, and the powerful beating of my heart that tells me I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
Ulf slowly releases my hands and sets the knife down on the cot, then slips his hands under me and lifts me up to press me tight against his body. He arranges me in his lap like a small child, and I feel safer than I ever have anywhere as I wrap my arms around his neck and lean my head against his shoulder, inhaling his calming scent.
“Good girl,” he soothes, rocking me slowly, pressing tiny kisses to my head. “I’ve got you, my sweet little deer.” He dips his head to nuzzle his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply to soak up my scent, the same way I do with him. “All mine. Mine to scare. Mine to control. Mine to give and deny pleasure.” He squeezes me tight, and I sense a weight of importance as he breathes deeply and says, “Mine to protect.”
He keeps me there for a long minute, curled up in his arms, wrapped in the sincerity of that last word. Then he lifts his head and holds two fingers under my chin. “Are you ready for the last part?”
