I narrowed my eyes. He’d had that answer easily; he had a plan, or at least an idea. “What do you mean?”
“I think our betrothal lessens the aggressiveness of the binding. At the Rocks, the binding didn’t feel as harsh as I expected. I suspect that in the same way natural magic recognizes us as bonded to share magic and location, it recognizes us as a unit here too. If we complete our betrothal—if you take my signet ring—I think you’ll be able to draw on my magic, but neither of us will be able to control the other.”
I pushed my hair out of my face. This was more complex thaumaturgical theory than any I’d learned, but I believed him. Yet…“If we completed the betrothal, will it be harder to dismantle?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“How hard?”
“It could take…years.”
Good lord. “You might be stuck with me for ages.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my voice. How noble of him. He’d strengthen the betrothal if it meant saving the world.
“We’d be saving the Ziz,” he said gently. “And Ena-Cinnai.”
I swallowed through my tight throat. How self-sacrificing.
“It’s a moot point.” I gazed out at the Lersach. All the winds were here except the Maestril, the Trio Winds churning the river into a frenzy, the rare Corisoc blowing as though it never intended to stop. “The Sanhedrin will supply us with the neshem.”
He stepped closer, careful on the slippery rocks. Paz crept up onto his shoulder and cheeped a warning. “If they don’t?”
“We worry about it then.”
“Naomi.” His eyes, his voice were searing. “If they don’t?”
I bit my lip, feeling sick. What could I say? You didn’t put your happiness over the needs of many. “We’d be trapped together.”
“Is that how you feel?” He maneuvered even closer. “Trapped?”
“You don’t want to be betrothed to me.” I smiled bitterly. “I’m a means to an end.”
He watched me. “You started as a means to an end. You did not stay one.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I mean it.” His voice was fierce. His gaze locked on to mine. “Naomi, I don’t think I’d betrappedwith you. I want this betrothal. I’m sorry I lied, I know you might hate me, but I want you so absolutely. Completing the betrothal wouldn’t only be for the binding. I’d do it because Iwant you.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to more than anything in the world.
“I think you want me too,” he said, his voice hoarse.
This was too much. He’d broken my heart, and I didn’t know how to put it back together. “You lied to me. I should hate you.”
He caught my hands and held them between us. We were so close, our bodies inches apart, breathing hard out of anger and hurt and banked desire. The wind whipped around us, pulling atour hair, pushing us closer. I had to cling to him for stability, and the burning in me shifted and bent into a different kind of heat. He brought his face closer to mine, his eyes searching. “Do you hate me?”
What I felt for him was so far from hate it almost circled back to it—it had the same strength, the same intensity. But it wasn’t hate at all. “No,” I whispered. “But you hurt me.”
He slid his hand up my cheek, cupping my face. “How can I make it up to you?”
I didn’t know—I’d never needed to forgive anyone to the extent I did Daziel. But I wanted to forgive him. I wanted to be with him.
“Prove you care.” That was what I needed: for Daziel to show me he hadn’t only been using me and I was more than a pawn in his elaborate plan. I needed him to make me believe he wanted me, over and over again, until my trust healed. “Prove it wasn’t a lie.”
“I do care,” he said. “I’ll keep proving it as long as you need me to.”
I leaned into him, all yearning and craving and hot need. He slid his hand around my neck, lowering his lips to mine. He kissed me, a drugging, intoxicating kiss I fell into with my whole body. Heat slipped through me, winding its way with licks of fire that left me gasping. Kissing Daziel was like fire, like a storm, like ravenous hunger. I didn’t want to stop.
He was the one who finally did, leaning his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry I lied. I’ll never lie to you again.”
