But Sin continues, “From what I’ve heard, it’s different with Destroyers. Once we find someone we want to be mated to, we get the undeniable urge to claim them. We crave them, and it’s impossible tostop. From there, we build the mate bond using our own magic.”
I stiffen at his answer, and he pauses, but I want the whole of it. “How do Destroyers build the mate bond, Sin?”
He inhales deeply before answering, “We claim our mate, and they accept it by giving themself over to us completely.”
His answer instantly sobers me.
Leon insisted I tell him I belonged to him. Repeatedly, he tried to pull the words from me. I thought it was the possessiveness, but oh god. He was trying to bind us together as mates.
The realization sends a chill down my back, and I want to cuddle in closer to Sin, to pretend for a while that I’m safe. Until I remember what Sin said to me before the party. That he is fighting to make me scream that I’m his.
I blanch. “You’re not…” I start, trying to figure out how to confirm he isn’t trying to tie our souls eternally without my consent. I might need to borrow one of Sin’s knives and stab him if that’s the case. No wonder Damien is so pissed.
Sin growls against my head, “Don’t even imply that I’d coerce you. The bond must be made willingly on both ends. You’re not mine unless you want to be.”
His answer tones down some of my anger, but I’m still frustrated. Something nags at the back of my head like I forgot to turn something off at home. I try to focus on it, and suddenly, I look back up at Sin, bumping his chin with my head. “I’m going to lose the Olympics. Are you finished with me?”
Sin lets out a low rumble and gently tucks my head back against him. “No.”
I huff, “Why not?”
“Because you’ll just find more trouble,” he answers firmly. “Now go to sleep.”
I frown at his tone. “I’m still not yours,” I mutter. “You don’t get to own me.”
Sin starts tracing small circles on my back. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Nodding against his chest, my eyes finally start to droop as exhaustion pulls me under.
I almost miss Sin’s whispered confession as the darkness overtakes me.
“You’re not mine, kitten. But I think I’m quickly becoming yours.”
Part 3 – Threads of Light
“The prince of darkness is a gentleman.”
- William Shakespeare,King Lear
Chapter 33
Rule thirty-three:Do not, under any circumstance, talk about your feelings.
This might be the worst hangover I’ve ever experienced. My head throbs as I try to pry my eyes open. The room around me is slow to come into focus, the light worsening my headache.
I’m never drinking again.
It takes another few minutes of hangover misery to realize I’m not in my own bed. I freeze, confused, until I notice I’m surrounded by the comforting woodsmoke scent I’ve become so attuned to.
Oh fuck.
This is Sin’s room.
Scrambling up, I ignore how the movement makes me queasy. I’m still in my jammies, which is probably a good sign. The room is empty, and there’s a glass of water on the small table beside the bed.
Okay, Sin isn’t here. A part of me relaxes with that realization, and I drink the water without hesitation. The night’s events play through my mind until finally, I remember trying to sneak into Sin’s room.
My cheeks flush, realizing how stupid I was to come in here.
