“You wouldn’t.” Her squeak came out as the most feeble protest in history.
My lip corners tilted up. “Not only would I, but I would also make sure Zion filled you afterward too. Nothing more beautiful than our woman hanging in restraints and dripping our cum for all to see, but never to touch.”
“That’s—” she sputtered. The redness coloring her cheeks washed down her arms, and her palms seared my chest. But a challenge kindled the forest fire in her eyes, the irises containingso many hues of green they resembled nature’s flames. “Why should I tell you anything, then?”
My lips skimmed the shell of her ear. “Because you always choose the safe option.” Her hum morphed into a vibration drifting down my abdomen. “It’s impossible for me to get tired of ripping confessions from you, but we are about to be late. So unless you want to invite our friends for a show on the roof, you better tell me whatever it is.”
As she mulled over my warning, her face scrunched. They had become the most effective method of convincing her to open up. Without a push, she would close off and bottle everything up.
“Fine,” she huffed, and her shoulders deflated. “You didn’t notice it, but last night, Zion and I, we left in the middle of the night.”
“And?” I quickly pulled on a fresh-out-of-the-laundry hoodie. “That’s not all, is it?”
Kali peeked at the bathroom, the absence of the shower’s pitter-patter a signal Zion had finished washing up. “Remember when I told you I got a silhouette of a blackbird tattooed?” She tapped above her chest. “To remember you by?”
The ink she had chosen to mimic the ones on my back due to a belief my supposed death was her fault. The assumption was so erroneous, I had lost it when I had learned of it.
I leaned against the closet, the wood as dark as my clothing, the hinges creaking from my weight. “Yes.”
“Well, I got another one.” She tugged the neckline of her hoodie down, exposing?—
I blinked.
Under her right collarbone, a silhouette of a raven had joined the blackbird, both of the animals spreading their wings to escape the pile of feathers clinging to their talons.
Instead of boasting a mark of death, her fair skin now displayed…
Gathering saliva to moisten my suddenly dry mouth, I rasped, “Does it mean…”
On one hand, I could count the number of times the ability of speech had abandoned me, and this moment had officially claimed another finger.
“It’s for you.” She re-secured her grip on the thick fabric. “I didn’t want to carry a reminder of how I stabbed you anymore, and as we don’t know what will happen tonight, I wanted to have something that would let me feel you and Zion close to me wherever I end up.” Her gaze dropped to her sock-clad feet, and then bounced back to me. “Dain had pierced his ear to state his connection with Conall, Aanya, and Nissa, and I, well, I chose this.”
She had done this for me. A permanent brand, ink you couldn’t get rid of, yet she had gone through with it. Painted herself in my color, announced to all she belonged to us. Not admitted it when pressed, no.
She had turned herself into a walking statement.
For once in my life, I was glad I was leaning against something. My own two feet failed to hold me up.
“If you don’t like it…” Kali released the neckline, and the thick cotton sprang back to its original place. “It’s okay. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“No.” I caught the fabric, gently pulling it down to reveal the work no one but Dorrian could have done. “Don’teverhide it.”
Gingerly, I brushed the slightly irritated patch of skin. Warmth seeped into my thumb, as if an electric current coursed along the surface of the tattoo.
Cupping her neck, my voice hoarse, I murmured, “Thank you.” And kissed her as softly as I could, mustering the last dregs of tenderness I had left in me after years of leadership.
The way she melted…
It broke my heart.
I could provide her with hot water, proper housing, well-balanced meals, all the luxuries a person could dream of, yet all she needed was a little bit of kindness.
Affection.
Resting my forehead against hers, I inhaled her exhale, her body pressed against mine acting as a barrier shielding me from reality.
“You are something else,” I breathed into her.
