London’s brows shoot up. “Imprison them?”
I shrug one shoulder. “I mean, that’s what I would do. You know. Just in case. So no one else could have them.”
A small laugh leaves her, soft and almost genuine, but her features tighten again almost immediately.
“Haide,” she begins. “Do you feel Legend on the inside? Here?” She watches me closely, tapping two fingers against her sternum.
I feel him everywhere. In my pulse, in my teeth, in the back of my throat. In the way my breath changes when he walks into a room. But I’m also prone to obsession, and that king is good with his hands. And his dick. So…who the hell knows?
I don’t answer.
Her eyes narrow with interest, but her expression softens. “When my and Knight’s bond first presented,” she begins, voice low, “it was instant chaos. Pure destruction. I was drawn to him instantly…and he wanted to ruin me because he felt the same and he hated it.” She smiles lightly.
Her gaze drifts out toward the violet fog hanging over the hills, but she keeps talking, words rolling like she’s reliving it rather than recounting it.
“It was a pull that never stopped,” she says. “A hunger. A certainty. It didn’t matter how much we fought, something in me kept dragging me toward him. And him toward me. Like gravity. Like fate had a hand around my throat. I guess it did.”
My lungs tighten one slow notch at a time.
Because that’s exactly what Legend feels like to me.
Chaos. Pull. Hunger. Certainty.
Even when I don’t want it. Especially then.
London goes on. “And the dreams started almost overnight.”
That snaps me out of whatever soft, dangerous place I’d slipped into.
“Dreams?” I echo, maybe too fast.
London’s eyes lift back to mine, studying every twitch in my face. “Oh, yeah. The dreams are the most important part,” she says. “That’s how you really know. It’s one of the steps in completing the bond.”
A cold, heavy dread sinks into my gut like a stone dragged down to the bottom of a deep, dark well. I hate it. I hate it because I don’t have dreams, and I loathe it because what the fuck?
It’s not like Iwantto be his…fated mate, right?
I don’t want to want or need something or someone.
But I dowantLegend and I like the thought that I’m here for a reason. That I’m not just a forsaken child of a damned isle.
The admission slams into me without permission. So hard I choke on nothing but my own spit.
No. No, no I don’twantLegend.
I want his dick.
There is most definitely a damn difference.
Right?
Holy shit, maybe I’m a power bank and sex is what fuels whatever powers I may—or may not—have.
I’ve been having sex with Legend and today, my body healed itself.
I need to fuck him again and maybe then I’ll be able to portal!
That would explain everything.
