Page 62 of Bond of Passion

Of course! That made sense. “I felt the healing wave go through you, and then everything got so…dreamy and sparkly.”

“Exactly.” He grabbed his phone off the bedside table and started tapping. “Yeah, okay, shit.”

“What is it?”

“I looked up Sleeva’s species. The healing process is said to be euphoric,” he said, and she could attest to that.

She’d never been intimate with another female before, let alone a female sex demon. And now that she was mated to Tavin, she wouldn’t be intimate with anyone ever again. She waited for the reality to bother her, and when it didn’t, when she realized that she was okay with being with only Tavin, she couldn’t decide whether or not that should bother her.

“And when…oh, sure, motherfucking great.”

She crawled across the mattress to peek over his shoulder at the phone screen. “It says that when the power is transferred to a female of another species, it can lead to unexpected side effects.”

“Like mages unconsciously casting love spells during sex,” Tavin read aloud. “Or the desire to make one’s fondest wishes come true.”

“Or bonding,” she said, reading ahead. “Oh, wow.”

He tossed the phone aside so hard it shattered against the wall. “And I thought yesterday sucked.”

Stunned by his sudden outburst and the fact that he thought being mated to her was worse than being tortured, she sat there like an idiot. And then fury all but roasted her from the inside out, and she leaped out of bed. She was still naked, her muscles sore, her skin tender from everything they’d done, but that only added to her rage.

“So this is what? A punishment? A fate worse than death?” She snagged the T-shirt he’d torn off her and slipped it on. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“No!” He shoved to his feet. “It’s just…shit…I didn’t want it to happen this way. This isn’t a roll through an Elvis drive-through wedding chapel and a quickie annulment the next day,” he said, and she had no idea what he was talking about, but she got the gist. “This is for life. You are now stuck with me for life. You can’t have sex with anyone else, or pain will take you down. Do you understand that?”

“Oh, so you’re worried about me? Is that it? Well, don’t be. I’m fine with this.” Truly, her scheme to make him fall for her couldn’t have gone any better. This was far more than she’d planned for: a custom weapon that had fallen right into her lap.

That took the pain out of his cut, as her people would say. She waited for the pride of victory to overcome her.

But it didn’t. What did was confusion. Twelve years ago, she would have given anything to be Tavin’s bonded mate. She’d have been nearly as thrilled three days ago, but for different reasons. Right now, she just needed a stiff drink.

He stood there, his chest rising and falling on deep breaths. “How can you be fine with this?” he asked quietly. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.”

Shaking his head, he tugged on a pair of shorts. And for all she hated him, she couldn’t help but admire his lean, muscular body and the way every move he made was precise and purposeful, like he didn’t waste energy unless he knew exactly what move was coming next. He was honed like a weapon, all hard planes and killing power—no wonder he’d excelled as an assassin.

“So, what happens now?” she asked.

“Between us?”

“We can figure that out later,” she said, studying his fresh scars. They seemed lighter in color and less puffy. Most of his bruises were gone too. And she had to admit that the mate ring looked good on him. Rugged. Primal. Claimed. “Right now, I’m wondering about your health. Sleeva passed on healing energy, and Eidolon said something about mating. Did he mean that the mating bond could heal?”

He nodded. “In a way.” He stretched, testing his arms, legs, and back. “I actually feel pretty good. Sore.” A sly smile touched his lips. “Could be from what we did.”

Her body flushed with heat as it remembered everything they’d done, and she struggled to stay on topic as she watched him test his muscles, “But what about all those people who tried to kill you? Are you worried there may be more trying to exact revenge?”

He dug through one of his dresser drawers, and she got the feeling he was ignoring her. “Tavin? How many more could there be?”

“I don’t know.” He yanked a white and green Dublin pub T-shirt from the drawer. “I didn’t keep track.”

Suddenly feeling vulnerable, she tugged on her boxers, but they didn’t do much against the sudden chill in the air. “You’re telling me it’s so easy to kill people that you don’t even bother counting?”

“No. I’m telling you that I don’t want to think or talk about it.”

“Because you feel guilty?”

He cursed and tugged the T-shirt over his head. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”