“The bond is a soul connection.” He takes my hands and tucks them against his chest where I can feel the steady rhythm of his heart. “Our bodies house our souls, and the closest physical connection we have with our souls is our blood. It’s the only thing fluid enough that a soul can tether to. That’s why when something stops the heart, whose duty it is to keep the blood flowing, we die, because our souls can no longer hold onto us.”
Ozias turns my hands so my wrists are facing up. “A few arteries carry blood directly to and from the heart—our strongest soul points. The first is in your wrists, at the spot you can feel your pulse. The next you already know about…” He runs a finger along the inside of my thigh and I shiver at his touch, longing to feel the drag of his finger coast higher between my legs. “And the third and strongest is here, alongside our necks.” He points to the spot along the column of his neck and the pulse of the powerful artery that lies beneath. “This is where you connect our souls—this is where you make the bond.”
I look between his neck and his face. He told me where and what these points mean, but my mind isn’t lining up with the execution. “How?”
“You drink from me,” he says, tapping the side of his neck. “Right here.”
My face screws up in disgust. “Your blood?”
“You eat meat, I presume.”
“Yes, but—”
“And drink mares’ blood?”
“Forceremonies, and it’s mixed with the milk, but—”
“And is this not the same?”
I open my mouth. Because in a way, it is a ceremony. In a way, it is the same. I narrow my gaze. “I hate the taste.”
“Someone as bloodthirsty as you?” My narrow gaze sharpens and he smiles. “I promise mine’s sweeter than a mare’s blood.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” I say. “Actually, I imagine you’ve had your fair share of split lips and bloody mouths.”
“It’s like you know me.”
I know what he’s allowed me to, but even with the charismatic, open way he speaks, I don’t truly know Ozias. I know what he’s doing, what he stands for, and that he’s attracted to me as I am to him. But he’s had years of living. So much life that, even if we had eternity, I’m not sure I’d learn about every moment of it. I’m not sure that he’d want to share that with me. I tackle my mind back to our conversation. “So what do I do? Make a cut, take a cup, and tip you over like a teapot?”
Ozias barks out a laugh, his smile genuine and beautiful. “As much as I’m sure there are several people in this world who would like to see just that, it’s more straightforward. If you could conjure your teeth alone, you could bite me and drink directly from the vein. But seeing as that’s a bit advanced for your current skill set…” He opens his hand and lets a talon come forth from his index finger, then he hovers the sharp claw just over his jugular. “Whenever you’re ready.”
My insides are twisting, both in anticipation of the action, and at having to actually drink his blood. “Wait. I’m…bonding with you?”
“No. I’ll stop you before it locks into place.”
My chest is sore from how hard my heart has thrummed today. I feel exhausted, but I also realize he’s putting a lot of faith in me. I know that if I were to follow through and bond him to me, I’d be in control. And here he is, letting me do that. Putting his trust into me. I place a gentle hand on his wrist.
“You’re a good man,” I whisper. Ozias’s mouth draws tight.
“I’m not sure about that.”
“I think…maybe that’s how we’re all taught to feel. That we’re not good enough. Maybe it’s time to say, whoever we are, however we come…that in itself is good enough.”
His smile is tenuous. “I like that, Kaisa.”
My low belly tightens, a delicious, dangerous heat spreading through me. The possibility of us, like he once proposed, churns and tugs in the back of my mind. “I like you, Ozias,” I admit.
“I like you, too,” he says, his golden gaze piercing me straight through. “Are you ready then?”
I steel myself and nod. My insides vibrate, even if my body is motionless, even if the rise and fall of my chest is barely a whisper against my clothes. “All right. I’m ready.” The words come out surer than I feel.
“Come closer.”
My breath is a soft breeze as I rise up on my knees and lean over, bracing my hands on his shoulders, face close to the hand above his neck. Without further ceremony or words, Ozias slices into his skin, his rich crimson blood welling up to the surface. I’m stunned for a second, watching it flow.
“Kaisa.” Ozias’s hushed voice brings me back.
I open my mouth and place it against his skin. The initial tang of his blood on my tongue is a mix of revulsion and ecstasy. I lock my teeth over the wound to keep it open,lips flared out on his smooth skin. Ozias hisses, hands coming up to grip my sides, just below my ribcage. I suck in a deep draught of blood, and I hum. He was right. The taste isn’t the problem. The problem will be stopping the tide of feelings rushing through me. The problem will be stopping when he tells me to.
