This perfect, lovely creaturewants me.
An ache more potent than poison begins in my heart.
If the chance of having her this evening does not motivate me, I do not know what will.
Her soul balms. Her fire entices. She is everything I have waited for, everything I have ever wanted.
I love her. The fortitude of her mind, the kindness she bestows, the heart she has offered to someone likeme. I love all of it. She’s smart. Funny. Tender. Bold.
If there is nothing else I believe of myself, let it be that Iloveher. Whether I am worthy or not, I love her. Whether I deserve her or not, I love her.
And love is something that changes people. I can believe that. Even if I struggle to believe I can change, Idobelieve that love is stronger than my sins. I trust that she cares for me. I trust that what I believe of myself pales in comparison to her belief in me.
What I am does not matter.
How she sees me does.
First, I wake the spider.
Then, the others…
Whatever madness comes from them, so be it. It does not matter.
Screw goodness. Screw rightness. Screw forgivable or wicked.
The only thing that matters is my soulmate. The only thing that matters isright now. Being what she needs me to be. Being what she wants. Pleasing her, keeping her comfortable, doing right and goodby her. This cherished being has never forsaken me, never betrayed me, never left me without coming promptly back, like a comet, into my arms.
She has called melove. She has named mehers. She has given me her trust.
She has promised herself to me.
She has asked for my future and my heart.
It is up to me now to make both suitable for her.
Though it is painful to stop looking at her, I fix my dangerous gaze on the stone limbs of the tiny spider in my palm. I focus my intention upon it and reach for a resolve befitting of a king—because that is also what I have been named, and I must choose to take on the helm of that humble title.
I do not want to be uncontrollable.
I do not want to be without discipline.
I do not want to be dangerous.
I do not want to beamonster.
If I must be one at all, I want to behers.
Which means my chain must be in her hands, my will must bend its knee to her whim, my body must be of use…to her.
She has commanded me to undo this.
So, I shall.
The stone cracks; my heart lunges.
Tiny legs flinch, testing themselves as gravel crumbles off, unlocking each, then the arachnid flees off my hand.
“Castor?” Heather whispers, still breathless. Excitement meets me along the thread of our soul bond. “Castor, you did it?”
