‘I don’t speak drivel. I mean every last word I say.’
He took her hands in his, his timbre dropping into the melodic, rhythmic cadence.
‘Bright Core, I crave the radiance of your light,
Not as a cold spark hanging in the void,
Watching the eons bleed with eyes apart,
Like a silent, frozen watcher of the dark,
Witnessing the tides wash the distant shores,
Or the snow-mask settling on the desert peaks.
No, I seek the steadfast, the unchangeable,
The fire and flames of your heat each dawn,
The sweet rhythm of your breath,
The rise and fall of your immortal heart.
I want to wake forever in this saccharine, holy rest,
To hear the velvet pulse of your every sigh,
And so I’ll live always, or otherwise dissolve into the stars.’
Sheba’s eyes welled with tears, and he leaned down to kiss the track of moisture on her cheeks.
‘It’s an ancient Sacran poem. Do you like it?’
She laughed through the moisture. ‘Damn, honey. I love it. Promise that you’ll never stop giving me the wild and the sweet. I want the ferocious devotion, the heartfelt poems, and the sappy romance, the bullshit-free honesty. But most of all, I want you.’
‘As I want and adore you too,’ he growled, his forehead resting against hers. ‘Woman, I will be eternally love-drunk on your portion. My mission in this galaxy, and for eternity, is tokeep serving you with the feral, the sugary, the savage, and the mushy love. It’s all yours, now and forever more.’
Idan came through on his word, securing a massive ranch complete with its own lake, on the emerald slopes of the Dunian highlands.
The rugged property sat on the Northern border of Molan and Rina’s estate, giving them a direct family connection.
The farmhouse sat on a natural plateau, a heavy mix of dark timber and local field stone with rafters that vaulted into geometric peaks.
Inside, the place carried the evocative redolence of cedar and the steady warmth of the fireplace.
For many evenings after signing on the dotted line, they huddled over the kitchen island, sketching renovation blueprints and mapping out the future.
They had plans to gut the rear of the house to add more bedrooms, bathrooms, a second living area, and a massive workshop for Idan’s leather-working studio.
They even mapped out a cantilevered primary suite that hung over the plateau, offering a panoramic view of the valley.
Sheba’s vision was for a country house chic style with oak floors to contrast the dark timber and a culinary space anchored by a monolithic slab of black marble.
She obsessed over the tactile details: textured linens, matte brass hardware, and a stone soaking tub carved from a boulder found at the creek.
Witnessing her excitement, Idan realized she wasn’t just renovating a building; she was constructing a fortress of love where their future family would thrive.
They came to a peace of sorts with Sheba’s work schedule.
