Metal screeched around us, our weapons rattled in their sheaths.
He was beyond furious. He was rage incarnate.
And he wasterrified.
“Rubi…” His voice broke. “Please.”
I wanted to rage, too. I wanted to scream and break things, but my body was aching, my muscles drained, and I didn’t want to fight with him.
“Please, Blake,” I whispered. “We can discuss it tomorrow. Just…come lie with me. Let me hold you.”
He leaned toward me as if my voice were a siren’s call he couldn’t resist.
“Please,” I whispered, opening my arms.
“Always,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to my thigh, stomach, and up, until he pressed against my heart.
The serums and healing tonics must have worked well because despite my exhaustion and my recent trials, my body responded to the weight of him. The strength of him. I tested, moving my hips beneath him, and felt no pain. He huffed a breath when he felt what I was doing.
“Rubi, you’re hurt. You can’t…We can’t—”
I cut him off with a kiss and another tilt of my hips. His body betrayed him.
The bedding was soft and warm beneath us as he shucked his pants and undressed us both with gentle care. He pressed me into the furs, whispering soft words as he took me slowly, until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.
Afterward, he wrapped me in his arms and we slept, him still inside me, desperate for the connection we’d failed to achieve with the Soul Pair.
It didn’t matter. My soul was his. No Marks were needed to provethat.
Part III
TheRaveling
52
The morning sun cast a cold, unforgiving light over the field.
Blake had awoken first, leaving to inform the others about Edith. He came back with more healing supplies and took gentle care of me, though his mouth was drawn into a tight line. I dressed in battle leathers, Blake securing my weapons a second time—after I’d already done it.
I grabbed his wrists to stop him, pressing our charred Marks to one another. I could already see the Marks beginning to heal, reverting back to their original colors.
He finally paused.
“We should talk,” I whispered, not brave enough to look up at him just yet. “About the Soul Pairing.”
Blake’s voice was low, calm, but with that sharp edge of determination. “We don’t need to talk. We need to try again. What happened was—”
“What happened,” I interrupted, “was fate deciding for us.”
He stepped forward, closing the distance between us, his body looming in the soft light. He was still shirtless, only in his armored pants. His bare skin was marred with bruises and scratches from the magical backlash, the Marks a reminder of how volatile things had become.
His jaw clenched as he stood in front of me, eyes intense. I would never forget how dangerous it had been for the both of us, but especially for him.
“Fate is a wind, not something written in stone,” he said, his voice tight. “We can choose what we do with that wind. That was us pushing too hard, too fast. We can make the Soul Pairing work, Rubi. We just need time.”
I nodded my head, but the ache in my chest grew with every word. “Yes. And right now, time isn’t on our side.”
I could see he was going to argue again, so I pressed forward. “We can try again, but not until after. First, the Anchors. We were lucky to get the collar off.”
