Clementine huffed, but she still twined her arms around his neck in a loose embrace. “So pushy.”
Giving her the affronted look that comment deserved, he replied, “I have beenverypatient.”
Some of the humor melted out of her expression. “You have. You’re a wonderful mate, Emory.”
Blood rushed in his ears. Never, not in all the weeks that they’d been together, had she called him her mate. Clementine had shyly called him her partner when she spoke on the phone with her parents. She’d never objected to him calling her his mate. She’d shared her affection with him freely since day one.
But she’d neversaidit. Not once.
Instinct howled. Urgency was a growing drumbeat in his mind, threatening to drown out every other need.She’s accepted my claim.
Clementine was his, not just in his mind, but in her heart. She belonged to him and him alone.
Not yet.
His cock would slip free of his slit any second, but still, he managed to grate, “Witchbond. Explain.”
“So, we’ve talked a bit about my… stuff and magical theory in general,” she began, speaking slowly like she was picking her words one at a time. “But a part I didn’t explain was that witches aren’t reallymadeto wield as much magic as we do. We have m-paths, but they actually begin to degrade over time, which basically means that as we age, our magic begins to leak out and damage our bodies.”
In an instant, all the blood that had rushed so pleasantly through his veins swept back — a sudden low tide just before the devastation of a tsunami. “Your magic will kill you?”
“Not all witches, but the powerful ones,gloriana,yes. Eventually.” His heart felt like it had stopped beating, but Clementine didn’t look the least bit concerned by her death sentence. “Most witches begin experiencing symptoms around middle age, and that’s why so many find someone to bond with before then.”
“What does this mean?Bond?”He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the panic of losing her had begun to seep in.
Seeing his fear, Clementine made a clucking sound and arched her neck to press a soft, reassuring kiss to his tight lips. “A witchbond is what prevents degradation. Basically, a witch can use another person to carry the magical load for her. The magic cycles through them and back to her, kind of like… kind of like the water filtration system you showed me.”
Her lips rubbed back and forth against his. He felt every word as she breathed them. “A witchbond is for life. It sustains us. It prolongs our lifespans. It makes our partners more powerful. It’s a soul connection.”
The dread began to seep away as he processed what she was telling him, what it meant forthem.“It’s for mates?”
“Most of the time, I suppose, but not always. It’s about who you trust. Plenty of people bond with siblings, friends, life partners…”
Fingers pressed into the back of his neck, drawing him closer. “I know that you think I’ve already claimed you as my mate, but that was the merfolk way. I want to do itmyway. I want to bond with you, Emory. I want us soul to soul.”
He knew that his mate was magically powerful. They’d spoken about her and her sister’s abilities many times. He’d just never considered that the magic he could feel buzzing just under her skin when they touched, the power hetastedwhen he licked her delicious little cunt until she came, was something that could bind them together as mates.
No, more than just mates.
Soul to soul. More than lifemates. Bigger than lovers.
With this choice, he could keep a part of Clementine inside him. He could sustain her with more than fish and seal meat. He could protect her with more than his claws.
He could be her lifesblood.
Him,the defective son of Gali, the fiercest merwoman of her generation, had been chosen to carry the magic of a witch so powerful, so perfect, that no other being compared to her.
Emory’s fingers trembled when he reached back to drag the rope of his braid over his shoulder. He stared down at his mate, his jaw locked, and worked the green scarf loose from where he’d secured it at the end of his long braid.
“Shirt off.”
Clementine blinked up at him, the look in her hazel eyes trusting but confused. “Why?”
He said nothing. Emory merely watched her with narrowed eyes as his clawtips plucked at the knot.
After a moment of hesitation, Clementine unwound her arms from around his neck and began to strip out of her long-sleeved shirt. Her stretchy undergarment went next. By the time she was done, her cheeks were flushed and her breathing had quickened.
Twining the scarf around her wrists, he tried to keep his own breathing steady.Not too tight.
