Her voice came out husky and quiet. “Where am I?”
“The infirmary at the Rome command center.” Although he sounded calm and in control, his words were rough with emotion. “You’ve been unconscious for two days. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
“The whole time?”
He slid his warm fingers along the side of her face and into her tangled hair. “Where else would I be?”
“I just had the strangest dream, Micah. I was walking along the old Atlantis shore. You were there with me.”
He smiled, unsurprised. “I know. I just woke up from the same one.”
He opened his other hand, and in the center of his palm was the white shell she had been holding in the dream. She stared at that tiny, iridescent heart and drew in her breath.
“Micah, I picked up that shell on the beach. I was holding it when you appeared.”
He tilted his head, brows drawn together. “I picked it up from the sand. I was holding it when you appeared.”
For a moment, she couldn’t speak for the astonishment that poured over her. The realization of what he was saying made her heart pound against her rib cage. “The Dreamscape. We were there, just now.”
His face registered surprise as well, before a look of satisfaction lit his warm gaze. “What’d I tell you? Destiny.”
He set the shell down on the small table next to the bed, then moved in closer to her, bringing her into his embrace as he kissed her deeply. His love for her radiated from his touch and his lips as he moved them slowly over hers.
Phaedra could have kissed him for hours, but through her relief and elation, she recalled the terrible last moments before everything she knew turned white and silent.
She drew back from the pleasure of Micah’s mouth, worry clutching at her. “Where is everyone else? Jenna and Brock, Zael and Brynne. Are they—”
“They’re all fine. Everyone is safe back in D.C., thanks to you. You shielded all of us with your light.” He smirked. “I’m racking up quite a debt when it comes to you saving my life.”
She shook her head. “It’s you who’s saved mine. I don’t ever want to lose you, Micah.”
“Not gonna happen, beautiful. Not ever.” He dropped a kiss on her chin. “Besides, it seems we’ve got fate on our side, after all.”
“Yes, we do,” she agreed, her amazement settling into an acceptance that felt so real, so right.
But there was more that weighed her heart down. She couldn’t dismiss the heavy feeling of dread for what they’d discovered in the Deadlands.
“What about the crystals, Micah? What about the Ancient who’s still alive?”
His face sobered. “I won’t pretend the entire Order isn’t concerned about that. I’m never going to lie to you. Of all the enemies we’ve faced over time, this new one poses a threat beyond anything we’ve seen before.”
She swallowed and nodded, loath to imagine what an Ancient who’d intended to obliterate her and her team in the Deadlands in one fell swoop might be willing to unleash on the rest of the world. “If he’s got the crystals, Micah . . . If he has any idea what can be done with them—”
“I know,” he replied, without any effort to hide the grimness of his tone. “No matter what happens, we’ll confront it together. You and your safety are my primary concern. That’s why I’ll be part of the team here in Rome effective immediately. Lazaro’s already given the okay—”
“Micah, no.” She shook her head. “You need to be wherever the Order needs you most. So do I. Right now, that means D.C.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want to go back with you. I want to help the Order get those missing crystals. Whatever I can do to help, I’m part of this now.”
He scowled as if he might refuse, but instead of arguing he moved up onto the bed with her. “You’re a part of me now, too. I don’t ever want to feel what I did these past two days. I need to know that you’re going to be with me forever.”
She caressed the hard line of his jaw, seeing the sharp points of his fangs glinting behind his lip as he spoke. “I want that too. I want all of you, Micah.”
He growled, low in his throat, before he brought his wrist up to his mouth and sank those diamond-bright tips into his flesh. Then he held the twin punctures out to her.
Phaedra lowered her mouth to the wound and ran her tongue over his blood. The power in that first taste took her aback. His strength flooded her as she drank, renewing her body and washing away any doubt she’d ever had that the bond between them was anything less than soul-deep and destined.
He was the part of her she’d been missing all her life, and as his blood roared into her senses, into her every cell and fiber and particle of her being, she knew that what they shared was eternal.
It was unbreakable.
Their bond, like their love, would outlast anything . . . even time itself.
