Soul Tied.
It can’t be, and yet, I’ve never heard of another connection that would explain what I think is happening, what’s already happened, if my suspicions are correct. I need to get back to The Scorch, and I need to look through my mother’s books that we recovered from The Wells. It’s the only place I’ve ever seen the term referenced as a link between dragons that died out when the Surgers did.
When Lorn mentioned that Aeson could feel my dragon, I chalked it up to the bond because Bonded Mates have been known to sense one another’s emotions or feel a strong connection to their mate’s source of power. But what I’m feeling with Aeson is different. It’s not just a sense of who he is at his core or reading how he’s feeling in general; I felt his dragon within me. I felt it like it was my own…and it wasn’t the first time.
I didn’t realize it then, but after the dungeon, when I was Source drunk, I felt the same thing. I wasn’t thinking about mates, or bonds, or anything like that then because I had no idea that I could trigger any kind of connection without revealing first, but now…now I think there’s more at play here than should be possible…unless…shit…but that would mean…
Out of nowhere, I trip. With a gasp and a squeal, I go careening forward. The only thing that stops me from faceplanting is Aeson’s quick reflexes. He grabs me, sets me on my feet, and holds me until I regain my balance. I tear the blindfold off my face and chuck it at him.
“This is bloody stupid,” I snap, bending down to rub my stinging foot. I have no idea where I lost my shoes, but somewhere between the ballroom and the training room, they disappeared.
“No. What’s stupid is you stubbornly insisting onwalkingwhen I offered to carry you,” Aeson argues.
I throw my head back and groan with frustration. “You were justinsideof me. How are you okay with that level of trust, but the second you tuck your dick in your pants, it all disappears? Make it make sense! Why is it okay for me to see all of yoursecret passages, but the ones winding through King’s Keep are off-limits?”
I pull at the hem of his torn up shirt to make sure it hasn’t climbed up my thighs too high. Lucky for me, the back of his shirt was mostly intact, thanks to the protection of his now shredded suit jacket. I just threw the shirt on backward, and so far I’m not flashing anything I shouldn’t be. Aeson’s pants aren’t in the best shape, but at least we’re semi-clothed as we make our way back to his rookery.
“Do you really want to get into a discussion about trust, Claws? Because I have some questions about other Syphons that I’d love yourhonestandtrustworthyopinion about if you’re up for it.”
This motherfucker.
I roll my eyes and level him with an unamused glower.
“Ask away, Spare. I’ll tell you exactly what I told your brother when he brought up his own suspicions. It’s possible others have survived just like I did, but I can’t say one way or the other if it’s true or simply wishful thinking on your part.”
“Oh, so we’re back toSpare?” he asks with faux indignation. “What happened toAeson, you feel so fucking good, yes, right there, fuck me like the god you are,” he mimics in an exaggerated falsetto that sounds nothing like me.
My cheeks heat.
Crap.
Did I really say all of that…out loud? I mean, I know I hit a point where I went half catatonic and fully incoherent, but I didn’t think I’d let thegodshit spill out.
I shove away my chagrin and cross my arms over my chest as though the power stance will protect me from any more embarrassment. “My bad, I didn’t realize we were switching the pet names up this early in our relationship. I’ll be sure to call you exactly that in front of your father the next time we’re all together.”
Aeson laughs. He closes the distance between us and presses a soft kiss to my lips. I freeze, unsure what to think about the casual and yet intimate act. My insides squirm while also feeling oddly giddy, and the rest of me can’t decide if I’m dubious about this development or into it.
He opens his arms to me. “Come on, I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” he offers while trying to hand me back the blindfold.
My answering look shoutsyou have to be kidding me.
“Thirteen strides that way.” I point directly behind us. “Take a left, fourteen strides, another left, five strides, a right, two strides, a left, eighteen strides, another right, thirty two strides to get to the stairwell where I’ll take eight flights down, swing a right, take thirteen more strides down before I hit another set of stairs, and then I’ll be back in the hallway that leads to the ballroom,” I recite.
Aeson’s stare fills with surprise and then indignation. “How the hell did you do that?”
“It’s called counting, Spare. Not all of us can be wealthy scions who get by solely on their looks,” I taunt with exaggerated exasperation.
It’s probably better to keep things lighthearted instead of pointing out that I was held prisoner for months by the Tainted, often with my senses being spelled to make it difficult to figure out where I was. I got creative in trying to decipher things, especially potential escape routes in case the opportunity ever presented itself.
I turn to continue to make my way down the rest of the corridor, but I’m scooped off my feet and thrown over a wide, hard shoulder. I shriek my protest and a large hand slaps my ass in response.
“I’ll show you counting… One,” he calls out and then spanks me playfully again. “Two…” Spank. “Three…”
I shout an objection, but it quickly morphs into a squeal with each palm against my ass cheeks. I try to flip off Aeson’s shoulder, but he has a firm hold on my legs, and I can’t dislodge myself.
“Four,” he taunts, and I squirm to get out of his hold, but my laughter is sapping me of my strength and making me easy prey.
“Welcome home, Commander Noctis and Ever Noctis,” I hear a robotic feminine voice greet, and I look up and realize that we must have exited a hidden passage that put us right by Aeson’s rookery.
